I HAVEN'T ANY CODE

Andrea and I had the most beautifully fast drive into Italy last night. He let me listen to Chet Baker's music over and over and over again. Darling, he absouletly adores the way I love to repeat something to no end, once I've decided I can't get enough!

Well, the drive was so wonderful that we drove right straight on into Rome and checked into HOTEL EDEN. We arrived so terribly late or early, whichever way you'd prefer to see it. Anyhow, Andrea still was asleep this morning when I went down to the front desk and asked that they contact the HOTEL DE CRILLON in Paris for any cablegrams I might be in receipt of and need read. After a few cups of coffee in the breakfast room the young conciegre approached me with a rather severe sort of smile and asked where I'd like to begin.

There simply were scads and scads of cables, that I rushed through them looking only for the most imperative ones, as darling, I did not have time to read all 143!

A cablegram from the nice Inspector Clouseau read:

LADY JACQUELINE. FORGOT TO HAVE YOU IDENTIFY BODY OF DEAD BROTHER. WAS YOUR LIMP CAUSED AT SCENE OF GROTTES? PLEASE CONTACT AT YOUR CONVENIENCE. INSPECTOR CLOUSEAU.

Darling, did I not tell you I found him to be an odd little man? Is that not too much that he forgot what he summoned me to the station for? That, my darling, is why I always say you must make absolute certain to always look your most fashionable best. It makes a man forget that he may want to scold you or worse, pin you to some rotten question you'd rather not answer, you know?

My only mistake was choosing to wear those damn YSL heels, which stand 4" tall instead of the Christian Louboutin shoes I had planned on wearing in the very first place. I know better than to ever hesitate my first fashion instinct. Now, I'm afraid the Inspector may even be a bit more confused should he be assuming that my twisted ankle happened the night of the grottes. Which of course, you know darling, it most certainly did not!

Inspector Clouseau is in possession of a dead brother which he forgot to get an identification of while Andrea and I were there, let alone OUR STORY? Are you dying laughing, or what? Well, darling, he'll have to do a much better detective job than what I've witnessed so far before I even begin to ponder a decision at my convenience of when I shall grace that gawd awful station again.

First, the last thing I want to do is identify a MURDERED Armani suit, as I've just been witness to too many tragic fashion deaths of late, that I can't possibly bear another. How I do wish people would learn to take better care of their clothes for gosh sakes. And not only that, but I'm still reeling with thoughts of Fiona not only having MURDERED my beautiful Chanel suit, but that she had the audacioty to steal it from me! Darling, have you ever heard such a thing? Fergodsakes, if you can't afford to buy your own couture outfits, don't go out in public.

There was no word from Harry. I do so hope he is all right.

And darling, having left all 42 pieces of my luggage in Paris, I was forced to drive the Martin over to Pucci and purchase several new summer dresses. Oh, I also picked up nine new pairs of sandals, as I wanted one in every colour. And also, I'm trying to act reasonable, as being in Italy there are so many damn stones one must walk, that I just don't think heels will serve me well should Andrea and I have to spend our entire time here doing 'getaways'. A lady must always be prepared for life's little surprises, you know.

Pull on your gloves, darling, before you read this latest news: When I jumped in the Martin this morning to run over to Pucci you'll never suspect what I found in the passenger's seat. The damn bloody gun that Frank had been waving about in the bistro yesterday. I could have sworn he still was holding it as we sped away. And tied round the gun in a deliciously divine red silk bow was the PENIS SONG! I hadn't the time to figure out its code nor did I care, so I popped it in the trash along with my heels and tied the red ribbon round the car's antenna, as it was such the perfect match and I've hidden the gun in my little black bag, yes, darling, my Grace Kelly bag, why of course! I do so hope the gun won't come in handy, but all with what I've had to go through lately I think it best I keep myself loaded.

Andrea and I are dining at the Giardino dell'Eden, it's the most spectacular open air restaraunt, and the ONLY place to be seen for lunch. It's straight right on the hotel's rooftop so we can view all of Rome.

Do let me know if you hear from Harry.

I'm in yet another mad rush, darling, as I want to make it up to the room before Andrea wakes, so I can decide which colour of sandal will look most smashing today, you know.

All of Rome shall be looking MY WAY.

Ciao-

-Jacqueline