TWENTY-SEVEN

WITHIN two minutes you could hear a cricket chirp in my coffeehouse. A dozen local customers remained, but there was nary a blue uniform (with secret Kevlar Skivvies) in sight.

“Talk about rude,” Esther declared.

“What’s rude?” I asked.

“Gulp, dunk, thanks a bunch?”

“They had police business.”

“Man, I am never dating a cop.”

“Since you’re already engaged to a Russian baker with dreams of being the next Eminem, I don’t see that as a problem.”

“Sorry for the knock, boss. Some days I can’t stop the ‘stupid’ that flows out of my mouth amidst all the wisdom I impart.”

“No offense, but your ‘wisdom’ could do with a little more filtering, as well.”

“Excuse me,” Nancy interrupted. “There’s a Mr. Arnold waiting by the hearth. He’s here to see Mr. Allegro. He says he can’t locate him, and it’s important.”

I sighed, hoping it wasn’t that Andrea Doria competition. That is the last thing I want to deal with right now!

“Goodness, what happened to the party?” Madame cried. “One minute I was reminiscing about an old television program with a pair of very charming vice detectives, and suddenly all the policemen were called away.”

“You were discussing television?” Esther asked, astonished.

Madame patted her hand. “My dear, one cannot survive on the rarefied air of high art alone. Why, there was a time—well before you were born, of course—when I never missed an episode of Mannix.”

“What was Mannix? Sounds like one of those humdrum reality shows. You know, women of a certain age trying to nix men from their lives.”

“Not quite,” Madame replied. “More like women of a certain age nixing humdrum reality to spend time with a Los Angeles hottie.”

“Forget Mannix!” I cried. “We’ve got another issue to deal with.”

As Nancy and Esther returned to the coffee bar, I told Madame about Mr. Arnold.

“He can’t locate my son?” Madame’s hands found her hips. “That’s preposterous. Perhaps he went to the wrong address—”

“No. I did not.”

In a tone of barely contained impatience, Sal Arnold, attorney-at-law, introduced himself, holding my gaze with disturbing intensity.

“I didn’t wish to interrupt your celebration, Ms. Cosi, although it appears someone beat me to it.”

Not the most politic opening line, but Sal Arnold seemed a direct man. The diminutive, forty-something lawyer sported a full, bronze beard, which seemed to stand on end as he spoke, and his jaw jutted as aggressively as his considerable midriff.

“This is about Matt?” I asked.

“It is. I visited Mr. Allegro’s Sutton Place address this afternoon, to deliver a time-sensitive legal document. I was told by his wife’s personal secretary that he no longer resides there, and that they had no forwarding address other than this place of business.”

Madame and I exchanged shocked glances.

He no longer resides there! What happened? Did Breanne throw him out? Or was Matt the one who left?

Whichever it was, my ex-husband’s second marriage appeared to be in trouble.

“I told you something was wrong with Matteo,” Madame whispered.

I turned to Mr. Arnold. “I’m Mr. Allegro’s business partner. I don’t know where he is this evening, but this is his place of business, and I can contact him.”

“Good. Then I can legally turn this over to you.”

He handed me a large white legal-sized envelope.

“See that Mr. Allegro gets this, and follows the instructions to the letter. If he has any questions, my card is inside.”

“Is this about the competition?” I asked. “For the Andrea Doria coffee blend?”

Sal Arnold blinked. “Goodness no—” He tapped the envelope. “This letter relates to a legacy left in the trust of Matteo Allegro and his offspring, by his late father, Antonio Allegro. It’s a dual trust situation that also involves the family of Gustavo Campana, so the matter is rather complicated.”

“Gus?” Madame and I said in unison.

“Good evening, ladies. I’m off.”

“Wait!” I cried as he headed for the door. “We have more questions!”

“The answers are in the letter, Ms. Cosi,” he called over his shoulder. “See that Mr. Allegro opens it as soon as possible.” Then Sal Arnold paused at the door and said something even more mysterious—

“Tell him I look forward to our meeting, which will be quite soon.”