Read Online London by Carina Axelsson - Free Book Online Page A

Bazaar … According to my source, there was absolutely nothing in the brief about Johnny’s childhood. What Harper’s Bazaar did specifically ask for were a few good new portraits of Johnny, as well as some shots of him working. They have plenty of photographs from his early days in their own archives.”
    My mind was running in circles as the information buzzed through my head. So Gavin hadn’t been asked to shoot the old photo for the Harper’s Bazaar job. What was it about that picture that I was not yet seeing?
    That thought promptly raised another one. How had Gavin gotten hold of the photo in the first place?
    Of course, the most obvious answer was that he had snapped it at Johnny’s house when he’d taken Johnny’s portrait. But then why wasn’t it in a silver frame, like the other photos I could see in the background of some of Gavin’s pictures? And why was there a manila envelope underneath it? And if he had snapped it at Johnny’s house, had someone shown him the photo? If so, why?
    â€œAxelle? Is everything okay?” Charlotte asked.
    â€œI’m sorry. Yes, Charlotte, everything’s fine. And you’ve been a huge help. It’s just…your information got me thinking about other things I must look into.” As I smiled and tried to slow the thoughts whizzing through my mind, Emily knocked on the door and entered with my peppermint tea and a biscuit for Halley.
    Changing the subject, I asked, “Charlotte, what can you tell me about Johnny’s childhood? And his sister, Georgiana?”
    â€œJohnny’s childhood? Hmm… Well,” she said as she turned to her computer and googled him. (At least I presumed that’s what she was doing.) “I know that his parents were a bit grand—although of slightly diminished means. Johnny himself likes to come across as edgy and bohemian, but he can be quite posh when he decides to be. Apart from that, I know he suffered some early tragedy—deaths in his family…”
    She was momentarily quiet as she read her screen. “Yes, here it is. His parents and twin brother died when he was young. How sad. How he’s managed to overcome so much, I don’t know.” She turned away from her computer and continued.
    â€œI know he went to Central Saint Martins, and of course, his mother was a real fashionista before the term even existed. As for Johnny, I think the word ‘partying’ probably sums up his early adulthood. He was constantly in and out of clubs, but still designing all the time. When he started really applying himself, the business grew, and today he’s considered a pillar of British fashion. He’s mentored a new wave of designers, including Jorge Cruz. If he continues as he has, he’ll probably get a knighthood or an award from the Queen.”
    As I finished my tea, Charlotte leaned across her desk and said, “And that’s why you need to tread carefully, like I said earlier. If you are working on a case, then as your modeling-detective agent”—she smiled at her job description—“I’m asking you to please remain tight-lipped and totally discreet until you’re absolutely sure of your facts. I need hardly to tell you that fashion people often have huge egos. An accusation of any kind—especially a false one—will not be taken lightly. Okay?”
    â€œYes,” I answered, and I meant it. The last thing I intended to do was jeopardize my detective career with an ill-informed accusation. In the gossipy world of fashion, I’d be more untouchable than polyester within about a minute.
    She paused for a moment, then continued. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
    I nodded, pulling myself together. “Georgiana.”
    â€œRight. She’s a bit of a dark horse—and by the way, everyone calls her Georgie. I don’t know her very well. She keeps out of the spotlight. She