Page 37 of Magnus
Those two members of the police force had refused, or simply didn’t have any further information, to confirm or deny that they had or would be speaking to Francesca Fuller later today.
Magnus had suggested he was taking Angus to the park after the police left. Sapphie had insisted on accompanying him, stating that the fresh air would be good for her and Angel. Magnus had remained vigilant throughout the whole of their time strolling through the park.
Angel had insisted on taking Henry with them in his case, much to the interest of other people in the park, who were there with their own children or walking their dogs. The perpetual scowl Magnus kept on his face was enough to ensure all those people were kept at a distance.
Quite what the spider had thought of being taken for a walk, Magnus had no idea.
Nor did he have any interest in knowing, he acknowledged with an inner shudder.
When Sapphie announced that afternoon she was taking a nap with Angel, Magnus had gone into his study to make some phone calls.
One to the police, who admitted, after checking the incident report on the nursery and Sapphie’s ex-apartment, they did now intend to question Francesca Fuller in connection with the three incidents. They had also said they couldn’t give him any more information on a case that was ongoing, despite his own involvement in said case.
Magnus had consoled himself with the fact that the situation had now been classified as a case.
He’d also spoken to his twin in Paris, explaining to Fergus that he was a little preoccupied with other things at the moment and that perhaps he would like to come back to England for a while and take over the London office for Rufus.
It turned out he hadn’t needed to tell his brother anything more than that to get his agreement, because Linus had already called Fergus and told him about Sapphie and Angel.
Gossiping little shit.
Magnus had also sent Rufus a text message confirming that Angus was now happily staying at his apartment with him. He was pretty sure his cousin wouldn’t appreciate an actual telephone call on his honeymoon.
After that, Magnus had fallen down the rabbit hole that was the online information on the Carlucci family.
On the face of it, Roman and Patrice came across as warm and caring people. Patrice was on the fundraising committee for several charities, all of which her husband generously donated to. They regularly attended balls and dinners in connection with those charities and others. Patrice lunched several days a week with other members of those committees. Roman played golf on those days with his business cronies. No mention was made of the rumors of Roman’s involvement with the Mafia.
There were pages and pages of photographs and articles in the newspapers when their only son and heir died in the helicopter crash. But, as Magnus had previously thought, there was barely a mention of Sapphie as Marco’s widow or Angel as his daughter.
BeforeSapphie had taken Angel and fled the country, at least.
After that, there had been another flurry of publicity over the Carluccis’ heartbreak at the abduction of their granddaughter by their emotionally unstable daughter-in-law.
That was the only reference in any of those articles or news reports that even speculated as to how Sapphie had felt when her husband died so suddenly. Not a single one of them had questioned howshemust have felt at finding herself completely alone, and a single mother, in a country that wasn’t her own.
Instead, it had been the Carluccis’ heartbreak over their son’s death which the media had initially concentrated on. Quickly followed by their distress when their daughter-in-law, a young woman they were now claiming was mentally unstable, had disappeared with their granddaughter immediately after their son’s funeral.
Sapphie was many things: courageous and strong, capable and protective, as well as an amazing mother to Angel. The one thing she most certainly was not was mentally unstable. Nor did Magnus believe she ever had been.
“Bastards,” Magnus muttered, still furious on Sapphie’s behalf all these hours after reading those damning reports.
“Who are we talking about now?” Sapphie prompted as she placed the child monitor on the coffee table before dropping down onto the couch opposite the one where Magnus was sitting. “Could I have one of those?” She nodded at the glass of whisky Magnus was holding.
“Of course. And the bastards I was referring to are your ex-in-laws,” Magnus bit out as he rose to his feet before crossing to where the decanter sat on a side table. He poured some of the amber liquid into a second glass.
“Thanks.” Sapphie took the glass from him, taking a sip before shrugging. “They’re a product of their generation and social standing?—”
“Don’t you dare start making excuses for them,” he said. “Their son might have just suddenly died, but you had just lost your husband too, and Angel her father. A little bit of emotional support at the time for the two of you from the Carluccis might have been nice, rather than them accusing you of mental instability and trying to take your daughter away from you.”
“Can we not talk about this right now?” Sapphie turned away to look out the ceiling-to-floor windows at the view of the bright lights of London’s nighttime skyline. “I’m just so weary of it all.” She sighed before taking another sip of the whisky. “Weary, full stop, if I’m being honest,” she added in a heavy voice.
Magnus could see that. And he didn’t like that almost-defeated expression on her face one little bit. “Hmm, I’m not sure I should have given you that whisky,” he mused, still standing beside the couch. “I wouldn’t want your decision-making to be impaired in any way.”
She tilted her head back in order to be able to look him in the face. “What decision-making would that be?” she prompted warily.
“Our mother taught all of us?—”
“Your parents are still alive?”
