“Of what?”
“Predominantly female clientele, plenty of opportunity for a man on the prowl. The prices ensure a well-heeled clientele.”
“Yeah, I saw that.” He whistled. “Happy hunting ground, no obligations. Which takes me back to plenty of potentially pissed-off husbands and boyfriends besides Doug so maybe Meagin wasn’t the primary.”
He started the car, had made it halfway to the station when a text beeped.
He sped up and handed me the phone.
I said, “Claudio Aggiunta, Gio’s brother. He’s in town, wants to meet A-sap at your ‘precinct.’ ”
“Text him back.”
Immediate response.
I said, “Being driven over from the Peninsula.”
“Good, we’ll get there first.”
Chapter 15
We stood outside the station as Milo worked his phone, researching Claudio Aggiunta.
Senior vice president of the shoe company, in charge of European and Asian sales.
I said, “The bulk of their market.”
Milo said, “Important guy, so the brains in the family... looks like an older version of Gio.” He showed me a headshot of a gray-haired man with a lean, seamed face and piercing blue eyes. A couple of additional clicks. “Here’s one of his wife, looks like Sophia Loren... four cute kids... wanna go out on a limb and say he’s the good son?”
Before I could answer, a black BMW 7 pulled up and a chauffeur rushed around to open the rear passenger door.
In real life, Claudio Aggiunta was short — five-five or so — with a fuller face than in his corporate photo. Since posing, he’d grown a full gray beard and let his hair grow longer. Eyeglasses in tiny gold frames perched atop a generous nose.
No spezzato here; steel-gray suit, blue-checked shirt, black alligator loafers. The blue eyes were less arresting in person, dull and sagging under heavy lids, bottomed by dark pouches. More than just acute stress. Someone frequently under pressure.
Milo said, “Mr. Aggiunta? Milo Sturgis. This is Alex Delaware.”
“Claudio, thank you for responding so quickly.” Soft voice, barely accented.
“So sorry to meet you under these circumstances, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Brief nod. Briefer handshakes.
No one spoke until we entered the elevator and Claudio Aggiunta said, “When we received your message and found out you solve murders, we knew the worst. Then we called your coroner and they confirmed it. They would not give us details, said to call you. So...” Resigned shrug.
The elevator dislodged us and Milo led the way to one of the smaller interview rooms. Square table, three folding chairs, hostile lighting that seemed to chill the space.
Stark space, sour-smelling and drab. No sign Claudio Aggiunta noticed. He stood there, arms hanging limply, until Milo motioned him to a chair.
He said, “My parents are suffering — very bad trauma.”
“Understandable,” said Milo. “Again, so sorry.”
Two smallish hands rose and waved. “Extreme trauma. My wife and my sisters and all our children are with them. I am the least useful in such a situation so I booked a flight as soon as I could.”
“Would you like some coffee, sir? Water? Something to eat?”
Claudio Aggiunta touched his gut. “No, thank you, Lieutenant. The time change... the situation. Could you please tell me what happened to Gio?”
“He was found shot to death in the backyard of his house on Sunday morning. It probably happened several hours before, in the darkness.”
“Guns,” said Claudio Aggiunta. “A robbery? One of those American things we hear about?”
Milo said, “Nothing appears to have been taken, so not likely, sir. There was a second victim found with your brother.”
“Who?”
“A woman named Meagin March.”
Claudio Aggiunta’s head shakes were rapid but restrained. Running on reserves and striving to conserve movement. “Who is this person?”
“Someone Gio was intimate with.”
Aggiunta’s eyes narrowed and his mouth set, rippling his beard. “And? What else about her?”
“She was married.”
No reaction. “Was she older than Gio?”
“She was, sir. Was that Gio’s pattern?”
“As far as I know it was,” said Claudio Aggiunta. “Over the past seven years it was. Does that sound odd? The fact that I am able to put a number on it?”
Milo said, “It is pretty precise.”
“I can be precise because it was a precise event, Lieutenant. Seven years ago, Gio was rejected by a younger woman. He was twenty-two, studying architecture in Pisa, she was eighteen, the daughter of a family close to our family. The two of them were like this” — hooking one index finger around the other — “since they were children. Playing together, always together. The plan was they would marry and raise a family. I am not referring to an arranged marriage, we are not barbarians. Gio and Donatella told us that would be their destiny. Then Gio went to Pisa and Donatella remained in Firenze to finish scuola superiore — what you would call high school. Two months later, she met another guy and told Gio it was over. His reaction was severe.”
A long, deep breath seemed to cave his chest before he exhaled audibly. “Gio took sleeping pills, he was hospitalized, it was a terrible time for the family. He recovered but Donatella was not impressed. She married the other guy soon after. It caused a split in our families. After that, Gio said he’d only be attracted to mature women.”
Milo said, “This other family, how far did the hostility—”
Claudio waved that away. “No, no, no, not possible, like us they are not barbarians. And we repaired the split. Quickly. Donatella’s family blamed her, they were on our side. We do not hold on to anger. Donatella was young. One cannot plan someone else’s life. Gio claimed to understand.”
I said, “Claimed.”
“How can one be sure what goes on in here?” Patting his own heart. Exactly where his brother had been shot.
“In the end, Donatella’s life was not happy. Her marriage was a disaster. What you would call domestic violence. She tried to reconnect to Gio but he had no interest. She moved to Iceland. Works in a hotel. I think.”
Another wave. “So nothing to do with her or her family is an issue. They are fine people.”
“I’m sure they are,” said Milo, opening his pad. “But if you could give me their name?”
Claudio glared. “We do not want you disturbing them. There is no reason.”
“I won’t contact them unless my investigation points me that way.”
“It will not,” said Claudio.
Milo said nothing.
“Fine, fine, Lieutenant. I am confident so I will tell you: Barone. They are in the leather business. Suppliers of skins and hides. Our families have worked together for generations. Other than Donatella it is only the parents and they are elderly.”
Milo scrawled. “So after Donatella, Gio was attracted to older women.”
“Yes,” said Claudio. “Unfortunately, there were other changes, as well. He dropped out of school and traveled around the world. With no plans. With a backpack. China, Tibet, Nepal, Bhutan, Egypt, Jordan, Israel, Morocco, Tunisia. For three years we heard little from him, then he returned and announced that he wanted to get serious and join the family business.”
Long sigh.
I said, “That didn’t work out.”
“We tried. Everyone tried — Gio tried the hardest.”
“But...”
“He had no genuine interest in shoes. In anything, really.” Placing his hands together, he lowered his head. A sinner in a booth, preparing to offer confession.