FORTY-SIX

“MR. Rolf,” I gently began after politely introducing myself, “your wife is worried and upset. She sent us here to question you. After what happened to her father, she wants to know why you visited him this afternoon.”

Hunter blinked in surprise. This was not the conversation he was expecting.

“How does she know I did?”

“Sophia and I both saw you come and go on the surveillance recording. You were with Gus Campana for over an hour, and you were the last person to see him before he was stricken.”

Hunter lifted his chin. “Are you accusing me of something—” A faint chirp interrupted him, and Hunter checked his smartphone before putting it back in his dinner jacket. “I was discussing business with my father-in-law, that’s all.”

“The jewelry business?”

I doubted that. My mind raced back to the argument Matt and I overheard at the shop. Hunter had sounded desperate to speak with Gus, but not about precious gems—

“I have something far more valuable—information,” he’d said. “News that Gus will surely want to hear . . .” It was about “a man in Rome . . . who was aboard that sinking ship . . .”

“I think you went to tell Gus about a man in Rome,” I said, “a man who was aboard the Andrea Doria when it sunk. Who is this man? And why did you need to tell Gus about him so urgently?”

Hunter slapped his hands on the table and leaned into my face.

“Why does Sophia want to know this now? She turned deaf ears when I brought her this information. Now I fear it is too late.”

“Too late for what?”

I saw Hunter’s jaws working. “Not your concern. I’ll discuss this only with my wife, not strangers.”

Matt was already simmering about the demeaning “Bean Man” remark. Now he pushed his chair back and stood.

“We’re not strangers. I knew Sophia long before you entered the picture. And Gus Campana is my godfather. I’ve known him—”

“You know nothing, Mr. Allegro. Nothing.”

Matt balled up his fists. “No? Then why don’t you enlighten me.”

I jumped between them, backing Matt off with a firm hand. Then I faced Hunter.

“I won’t keep you from your wife much longer. Just tell me one thing. What was your business with Eduardo De Santis?”

“Eduardo? Why?”

“I’m a businesswoman, Mr. Rolf. De Santis is well-known in this city. I’ve always wanted to make him a client—supply his venues.”

“There’s nothing there for you.”

“Why not? What are you doing for him?”

He threw up his hand. “It will be news in a few days, anyway, so you might as well know. I was commissioned to procure a large number of gemstones for Mr. De Santis and his investors.”

“For?”

“A luxury resort in Dubai called Ra’s Paradise. Their nightclub will have a gem-encrusted sun illuminated by laser lights.”

“How did you get involved with this project? Was it through Mr. De Santis?”

That chirp again. Hunter pulled out his phone, checked the screen, and frowned. “I really must be going—”

“Have you been friends with Eduardo for long?”

Hunter crossed his thick arms, then uncrossed them again—a nervous gesture that made me think I was going to hear less than the truth.

“I met him six months ago, on safari in Africa. Eddy is not a very good shot. I gave him a few pointers. That’s the end of it.”

I remembered Sophia remarks about her husband’s shady business practices—“What are you peddling now? Blood diamonds? Smuggled Russian amber? Pilfered European heirlooms? Contraband jade from Myanmar?”—and doubted that was the end of it.

“So gem hunting is the only job you’re doing for De Santis?”

“It’s what I do, Ms. Cosi.”

“But you’re handy on safari, too. Have you hunted since that time in Africa?”

His placid blue eyes suddenly turned to ice. When his phone chirped again, Hunter Rolf didn’t bother to check it.

“I have had enough of these ridiculous questions,” he declared. “Now if you will excuse me, I am going to join my wife.”