Death Comes to Lake Como

By G.X. Chen

The third in the series of The Back Bay Investigation, Death Comes to Lake Como takes place a few years after the events of Mystery of Moutai and The Fatal Sin of Love. It opens with Fang Chen and his new bride corresponding with their friend, Ann Lee, while on vacation in Italy. Things quickly turn sinister when a nurse for a wealthy American tourist and a retired cook are murdered.

Ripples of strife left over from the Cultural Revolution in China once again pull Ann and Fang Chen into a complicated murder case. The answers are not easily found by the amateur detectives and take them through a maze of leads across the byzantine network of Chinatown's residents.
Connections one wouldn't expect are brought to light as the investigation deepens, and more innocent people are dragged into a plot motivated by a sinister agenda. Ann and Fang Chen must once again solve the mystery before it hits closer to home than they could've imagined.

Rich with surprise at every twist and turn, Death Comes to Lake Como is an intriguing murder mystery that blends love and friendship with greed and deceit, all in the lush setting of Italy's Lake Country.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G.X. Chen
• Release date: Sep 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370998555

G.X. Chen

G.X. Chen, author of the Back Bay Investigation mystery series and others novels, is a freelance writer, world traveler and amateur photographer. She lives in the beautiful city of Boston with her husband, Steve.

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Death Comes to Lake Como

Copy right 2016 by G.X. Chen

Smashwords Edition

G.X. Chen

Book 3 Back Bay Investigation

Death Comes to Lake Como

Copy right © 2016 by G.X. Chen. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America

ISBN-13: 978-1522792093

ISBN-10: 1522792090

1. Fiction / Mystery

2. Fiction / Asian American

To Linda and Ben

For all the fun we had in Italy

CHAPTER 1

E-mail from Jane Tian to Ann Lee

We finally arrived at our hotel, after two connecting flights from Boston, a train ride from Milan, and a hired car from Como. The Grand Hotel Tremezzo is the most gorgeous hotel I’ve ever been. It sits on the lake against the backdrop of rolling hills, surrounding by lush gardens leading to one of the most famous villas in the region—Villa Carlotta. The interior of the hotel is absolutely lavish: original frescoes and Art Nouveau antique furniture or so my husband told me.

Our room has two French doors that open to a wrought-iron balcony facing Lake Como, overlooking Bellagio, the most striking township in this part of the world. The luxurious green mountains and red-roofed villas make the lake in front of us look like a gigantic oil painting without a frame, breathtaking and beautiful. Behind the mountains in the distance, I can see the summit of the Swiss Alps covered with white snow.

Below the balcony and across the street is the hotel outdoor floating pool, linked to our building by a narrow footpath. There are white pool chairs and blue umbrellas, so I’m sure we’ll be there one day to sunbathe, and for my husband to take his dips.

After unpacking, we went down to get acquainted with our new surroundings. The weather here in July is perfect—sunny and in the low eighties. The sub-tropical plants in the garden are flourishing; but the most delightful spot of the hotel is the terrace where we had our dinner at La Terraza, the main restaurant in the hotel. From our table, we watched the sunlight diminish and the lake turn misty gray. When the lights were lit across the lake, it looked as if hundreds of ancient lanterns were hanging in the trees.

In addition to the incredible views, the food at La Terraza was amazing. The first course of the amuse-bouche was the best piece of pizza I’ve ever tasted—melting cheeses atop paper-thin, crispy crust. My husband ordered a simple pasta dish with tomato sauce, and he told me it was out of this world. Two of us then shared a main course, a whole sea bass, with its head and tail attached. Our waiter painstakingly took the bones away before serving us the filets—extremely tender and tasty.

We’ll start exploring the lake tomorrow. I really can’t wait. There are so many places to go and so much to see, a dream location for nature lovers as well as honeymooners. One of the concierges, a charming middle-aged man, told us that a short walk would bring us to either Villa Carlotta or Cadenabbia Harbor where we could take a ferry to Bellagio and the surrounding towns.

But enough about me. How’s my little Alex? Does he miss me? Probably not, since he’s with his favorite aunt. Please give him my love, and thanks again for taking care of him.

***

E-mail from Fang Chen to Ann Lee

Jane and I landed in Milan around noon yesterday. She was so tired that she went straight to bed. I, however, went sightseeing—I really can’t sleep during the day no matter how tired I am. The last time I was in Milan, I didn’t get to see the Last Supper because the refectory that housed the famous painting had been closed for restoration, so I was eager to pay a visit this time around.

The refectory turned museum reopened in 1999 after more than twenty years of overhaul and renovation, so it’s natural that the tickets are being sold weeks even months in advance. You can imagine how disappointed I was when I learned there weren’t any tickets available. Instead of leaving, however, I planted myself in front of the clerk, a middle-aged woman, pleading and begging until she gave in and assigned me one of the evening slots. I wasn’t going to leave without seeing the painting, one the treasures of Milan.

The Last Supper, painted on one side of the walls of an ancient convent, is astoundingly beautiful—even if it has lost more than 80 percent of its original colors due to wear-and-tear over the past centuries. I can only imagine what a splendid artwork it must’ve been when Leonardo da Vinci first painted it. The fact that he treated the wall as the canvas in order to obtain the perfect images—dry paint as it’s called, using the same method as if painted on a canvas—allowing him to make the amendments easier but also made the painting extremely difficult to preserve. I bet he didn’t expect five hundred years later future generations would line up every day to see his work.

While waiting for my turn to see the Last Supper, I wandered through the Parco Sempione, a delightful park that’s bigger than Boston Common and Public Garden combined, to see the famous Duomo di Milano, one of the largest and most striking cathedrals in the world. It’s a splendid Gothic structure; majestic outside and amazing inside, with three thousand marble statues decorating its outer walls as well as its interior. The construction of the cathedral began in the fourteenth century but wasn’t completed until the nineteenth. The renovation immediately followed never seems to end—today, it’s still in working progress. This time I climbed hundreds of steps up to the top, catching the view of the city and glimpsing of the golden statue of Mary on its highest spire. Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, one of the oldest shopping malls in the world—and a rare architectural gem—is less than a stone’s throw away from Duomo. It has dramatic cathedral ceilings and stunning glass domes. I shall take Jane to the mall when we’re in Milan again next week.

This morning, we took a local train to Como, the biggest city in the region, a half hour away from Milan Central. I hired a car from our hotel that took us from Como station to Grand Hotel Tremezzo via long and winding country roads. I always consider myself a good driver, but I was nervous when I watched the driver navigate the narrow paths built for horses rather than motor vehicles. The roads were so narrow and contracted that he had to stop every time a car approached from oncoming traffic; but I have to admit, it was a pleasant ride because of the views around the lake.

Our driver is a local resident who shared with us many A-list celebrities from the United States had bought villas along the lakeshores. With the most scenic views flashing by, Jane and I couldn’t tear our eyes away from the windows of our car. The Italians called Lake Como Three Sparkling Emeralds because it is sparklingly green and splits into two branches near Bellagio.

When we reached our hotel, I saw a woman get into a car look a lot like one of the city council candidates from Boston. She and her opponent’s campaign posters are everywhere in Chinatown now.

The grandeur of our hotel took Jane’s breath away. It’s so gorgeous I found myself wondering if it’s a real lodge or a movie set with it bygone décor and moneyed clientele—there are more Armani dinner jackets and Ferragamo shoes in its restaurant than on the streets of Boston.

***

Ann Lee wore a smile on her lips as she was reading her e-mails. Alex, who had a beautiful white coat, a pair of big, sorrowful eyes half-covered by his long and curly hairs, had ditched his favorite spot on the couch as soon as he saw her, following Ann wherever she went at a leisure pace, waiting to be fed. When Ann sat down to check her e-mail, he settled at her feet, looking up at her expectantly, only dropping back down to the floor when he realized there was no hope for a second meal. The dog belonged to Jane, Ann’s roommate after graduate school and before she was married to Fang Chen, Ann’s best friend and crime-solving partner. A biologist by training, Ann became an amateur detective alongside Fang Chen when one of their friends Shao Mei was murdered five years ago. Jane had left the dog with Ann when she and Fang Chen departed for their honeymoon after an outdoor wedding on Cape Cod with Ann as her maid of honor. Alex, a Pekingese with a mellow and well-behaved demeanor, was the perfect pet for a small apartment in the city.

Ann moved to her current home soon after Fang Chen and Jane had become engaged. The rent was reasonable and the location, near Downtown Crossing in Boston, almost perfect—less than a twenty-minute subway ride to Cambridge where her lab was and a ten-minute walk to Back Bay, where Jane and Fang Chen lived, on the fashionable Newbury Street. Having roomed with at least one roommate since college, Ann was happy to finally have an apartment of her own.

She came to appreciate the privacy of living on her own even more after she had met Alan at a company retreat about a year ago—and with whom she had become romantically involved shortly thereafter. An advertising executive working for a major media company in the city, Alan Rourke was four years older and an outdoor enthusiast who loved to play and watch sports. Since they started dating, he and Ann had been spending at least one day a week—either Saturday or Sunday—hiking, jogging, or swimming, depending on the season and the weather.

***

E-mail from Ann Lee to Jane Tian

Alex and I are spending some quality time together. We’ve taken a walk in the Public Garden after dinner and are now snuggling on the couch while watching TV.

Lake Como sounds like a heaven on earth with its striking scenery and luxurious lodgings. Please take a lot of photos to go along with historical towns and fishing villages so you can show me when you get home. I hear the lake is the deepest in Europe, and one of the most beautiful.

The weather in Boston has been perfect since you left—sunny and warm but not humid. In two days’ time, Alex and I will join Alan for a weekend retreat to the Cape. We’re thinking about taking the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard.

Alex sends his love. He’s absolutely looking forward to running on the sandy beach.

***

E-mail from Ann Lee to Fang Chen

I’m so envious—I’d love to see the Last Supper in person, too! A few years ago, I saw a photo on a book jacket in the library. I remember trying to figure out who’s who because I was fascinated by the biblical story behind the painting when Jesus had dinner with his apostles in Jerusalem before his crucifixion. I thought if I could locate the bag of silver, I could at least make out Judas the traitor; but it was so badly discolored, I failed to find the ill-gotten silver no matter how hard I tried.

Yes, I saw the campaign posters of Annette Jin and Mark Kao in Chinatown. Even though I can’t vote as yet, being a permanent resident, I do like to see a woman—called me biased if you will—to be elected as a city council member representing Chinatown. There have been few female city council members while half the population in the city is women.

Leave it to you to find one of the most luxurious hotels in Italy—you should fit right in, I’m sure, with the clientele who love luxury brands and modern comfort as much as you do.

CHAPTER 2

E-mail from Jane Tian to Ann Lee

We took the ferry this morning from Cadenabbia Harbor to Bellagio since it has nonstop service while the ferry from Villa Carlotta (the dock is right across from our hotel) has to stop somewhere before reaches Bellagio. Just as the concierge said, the walk to Cadenabbia Harbor took only about ten minutes. We walked along the promenade connecting Tremezzo, the small town where our hotel is, to even smaller Cadenabbia, while watching a family of five swans glide gracefully on the lake. The three swan chicks—one of them already turned white while the other two were still in their babyhood gray outfits—followed their parents paddling along happily and energetically. There were already people out and about, feeding fish—mostly trout—over the iron railings or walking and running around the lake that was so calm and peaceful.

Speaking of the lake, it was glittering under the sun like a jeweled necklace as the ferry took us across at a leisured pace. Everything seems to move at a much slower pace in Italy than in America. Bellagio, the diamond atop three emeralds, is a picturesque ancient town (see the attached photos). The only drawback is the stony stairway, dotted with little shops, from the harbor to the town square where a twelfth-century church, Chiesa di San Giacomo, sits silently on a steep hill. The stairs are made of cobblestones. You know I hate cobblestones, even when wearing a pair of ballet flats; but my husband loves it, telling me the stairway’s part of the charm of the medieval town. To tell you the truth, I could do without it. The beautiful lake at the bottom of the hill is good enough for me.

It was almost a quarter past three when we were back at our hotel. I was so thirsty I went straight to the hotel bar, called the T bar, to have afternoon tea while my husband headed for the outdoor pool. After several hours of laborious walking and hiking, I was ready to enjoy some creamy pastries and finger sandwiches.

While in Bellagio, I’ve noticed the tourists in the region are mostly Europeans and Americans. From the moment we left our hotel to the moment we returned, I only ran into one Asian family; but at the T bar, which has the most spectacular view from a lakeside terrace, all three customers were Chinese. I knew they are Chinese as soon as I heard the two women in front of me talking. They’re speaking Mandarin, the same language we speak. I was fascinated only because one of them was dressed elegantly and expensively. I almost thought she was French until she opened her mouth. From where I was sitting, I could see her back and partial profile, attired in a beautiful, short-sleeved, floral linen shirt and a pair of white Capri pants. Her emerald Hermès Birkin handbag matched her equally striking pea-green jade earrings. I was so intrigued that I could hardly take my eyes off of her—I’ve never seen such a stylish Chinese woman before.

Opposite her but facing me was an older woman who looked to be in her sixties. She was cheaply and casually dressed, the total opposite of her companion,