mentioning that Rosamanti was four hundred years old. This map was created when the villa had been here for about seventy-five years. She thought of Pietro’s ancestors farming here, tending animals. A family quite isolated, living in the shadow of Tiberius’ villa. She wondered what the Lombardis were like. Were they wealthy landowners, or hardworking farmers? Her thoughts turned to Elena Lombardi—Nonna. If Nonna was Pietro’s grandmother, how come she had the name Lombardi?Sarah shrugged. Thinking of Nonna reminded her of the little envelope she found yesterday. She reached up to the shelf and pulled it out. Again she read the title and saw the letters E. L.—Elena Lombardi? Of course!
She carefully opened the envelope and slid out several sheets of flimsy writing paper, folded neatly. In a copperplate, old fashioned, script, Sarah recognized the words Elena Lombardi, and Villa Rosamanti Lombardi. Under that, she saw 19 Dicembre 1928. The rest was in Italian. Frustrated, Sarah scanned the pages. On page three there was a hand drawn map, and under that Sarah saw what looked like a set of three instructions, each one numbered as Indizio 1; Indizio 2; Indizio 3 .
“Why didn’t I learn Italian at school instead of French?”
Exasperation was getting the better of her naturally curious nature. She turned her attention to the map. It was basic, to say the least, but she was able to recognize the places easily. Villa Rosamanti was marked, as was Villa Jovis. Not far from there, another Villa was marked—Villa Lysis. Puzzled, she wondered why Lysis had not been marked on the older map. Examining further, she saw that Nonna had also marked Grotta Azzurra. She meticulously folded the thin paper, and put it back in the envelope. She would have to be patient and wait for Pietro to return.
With a long exhale, she resigned herself to researching the mystery at Villa Jovis that Felicity French would deftly solve by discovering clues, one by one, to reveal the truth. Searching through the bookshelves in Nonna’s drawing room, she found several books, both contemporary and old, on the antics of Tiberius. She took them down from the shelf and, scooping up the seminal work of Suetonias that she had left on the table, she went upstairs to her writing room. Moving the laptop aside, she spread out the books and, with her notebook open and pen poised, jotted down notes and ideas that would end up in the latest Felicity French mystery.
* * *
Orange light cast a warm glow through the open window signaling that it was time to go and milk Geraldina and ensure the animals were safe for the night. She felt pleased with her day’s work. It was hard going, reading through the depravities of an Emperor who had been dead for two thousand years, but here on Capri, he was very much alive. His mark was everywhere on the island and included the baths at the entrance to Grotta Tiberio, where he apparently lounged and relaxed in the lap of luxury. But the infamous, sinister side of Tiberius made him unlikeable to a normal person, spoiling, for her, a piece of remarkable history.
And so, in Sarah’s imagination, Felicity French, the modern, sassy Private Investigator, would stumble upon another dark secret of Villa Jovis. It would involve a well-known movie star, a major sporting identity, drugs and money laundering. Sarah plotted out the mystery, set the clues, and created her characters. Her heroine, Felicity French, would put her life perilously on the line to track down the crooks and turn them over to the law. Danger, intrigue, an attractive sleuth, sleazy offers from arrogant celebrities, sex, drugs and plenty of action. Perfect!
Putting down her pen, she looked at the mind map on the pages in front of her. There it was, in dot points from the first chapter, to the last. She had drawn sketches of her characters, noted their physical attributes as well as their foibles, fears and weaknesses. She also sketched out a rough map of