CHAPTER 49
It was a grey, overcast Friday in Lausanne, the day Mark came to bury a duchess and a host of indelible memories.
Landi's limo had picked him up at Geneva airport and whisked him the sixty-odd kilometres to her family estates in the vineyards overlooking the town of Vevey and Lake Geneva, and up to the small chapel set beside the family tomb on the high ground.
By their looks, the mourners in the chapel obviously belonged to Switzerland's Francophile upper-crust strata, where wealth and nobility guaranteed an invitation. They'd come to Lausanne ostensibly to pay their last respects to her, but also – as Mark later leant from Landi – in deference to the power and influence that her octogenarian father still held over most of them. Seeing the old man's wizened face, hard eyes a
