And although it must have been shocking to see the woman dead, she hadn’t even had the trauma of needing to console hysterical children. From her account, they hadn’t been badly affected. It appeared the entire household had maintained levels of calmness that would have put seasoned first responders to shame.
Falcone shook her head.
There was more to this. She was convinced of it. However, she had realized that Ms. Vale was unlikely to provide any of the answers. She hoped that the children would fill in the gaps, and that their reactions and behavior would help her make sense of this disturbing situation.
“May I speak to the little girls?” she asked. “I will only take a few minutes, just to establish some basic facts, if they are not feeling too upset.”
The au pair seemed excessively relieved that the interview was over, for the time being at any rate.
“Of course, of course.” She jumped up from her chair, her face flooding red.
As she followed her along the spacious, tiled corridor, Falcone was personally convinced that the au pair’s reading of the situation would prove to be false—or at any rate, inaccurate. She was sure that her visit to the children would wrench the whole situation back to reality.
Falcone’s only child was a daughter who, at the age of seven, was only a little younger than these two girls. She loved her girl beyond words and had seen how that love was reciprocated. She could only imagine the horror that her child would have endured if she had watched Falcone fall to her death.
There would be tears—of course there would, and Falcone knew that she would struggle not to break down herself, while witnessing the misery and devastation of two little girls whose world had changed forever, while offering words of comfort that could only provide empty consolation.
As she headed toward the bedroom doors, Falcone felt a flash of anger at the fact that this situation was somehow being misrepresented. If the au pair had caused this to happen, and through her actions, these two girls had been robbed of their mother, Falcone resolved that Cassie Vale would suffer the full wrath of the law.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Detective Falcone tapped on the elder girl’s bedroom door and waited for her to respond.
This was Nina’s room. In here, scared and alone, probably tearful, was a little girl whose world had suddenly and brutally changed. Whatever Falcone did, nothing could bring her mother back. She closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing the horror of the situation and containing it inside her. She prepared herself to handle the questioning with all the tact and sensitivity it would require.
The au pair stood behind her, nervously shifting from foot to foot.
Falcone considered telling her to go back to the dining room, but decided against it. She wanted to see the girls’ reaction to Ms. Vale first, as it might provide her with valuable insight.
“Come in,” a small voice replied.
Falcone stood aside and allowed Cassie Vale to open the door. As it swung inward, she took in the scene.
A beautiful, doll’s house bedroom—spacious, well decorated, perfectly tidy. Toys placed on a shelf too high for any child to reach. That fact snagged Falcone’s attention for only a moment before she focused on the two girls, who were both in this room.
Dressed in cream-colored nightgowns, they were sitting side by side on the bed, and had been reading a picture book together. They looked up as the two adults entered and Falcone was immediately struck by their calmness and composure. It was completely out of place—almost eerie, she thought.
The au pair cleared her throat nervously.
“Nina and Venetia, this is Detective Falcone, who has come to ask you a few questions.”
“Good evening,” the girls chorused in unison.
They appeared to be at ease with the au pair and did not seem afraid, but Falcone had already established that their reactions were far from normal. What she didn’t yet know was why.
“Good evening, Nina and Venetia,” Falcone said gently.
She turned to Cassie. “I will take it from here, if you could please go and wait in the dining room.”
When Cassie had closed the door, Falcone walked over to the bed.
“May I sit with you?”
She perched on the edge of the bed so that she was on the girls’ level.
“I am so sorry about your mother,” she said.
Now that she was closer, she could see that the girls had, in fact, been crying. Their eyes were red and their faces tear-stained. So perhaps they were very introverted, or had been taught not to display emotion in public.
“We are sorry, too. It was a great shock, and we are traumatized,” Nina said calmly.
From her choice of words, Falcone realized she was unusually eloquent for her age.
“Can I talk to you on your own, and then talk to Venetia on her own?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Venetia stood up and left the room and again, Falcone noticed there was no reluctance, no hysterics. The girls seemed impeccably disciplined.
“Can you tell me what happened this evening?” Falcone asked.
She waited while Nina, frowning, took some time to think before answering.
“We all had supper with Nonna, who had recently arrived,” she said, speaking loudly and clearly, even though Falcone was right next to her on the bed.
“Then Mama said we would have tiramisu with Nonna in her room, before bed. She went to get the tiramisu. We decided to go too, in case she needed help, so we followed her. I saw her at the top of the stairs, and then she suddenly slipped and I heard bangs and crashes and knew she must have tumbled the whole way down. It was awful. I didn’t know why that could have happened or if she was all right. I shouted for Cassie, who came quickly.”
“You didn’t run to your mother?” Falcone asked.
“I felt too scared to go down. I was
