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“He was on his plane, coming back from one of those gambling trips.”
The man’s face went pale. “That’s horrible. And you’re investigating it . . . why?”
“His ex-wife thinks there might be foul play.”
His eyes gleamed. “Foul play? That’s exciting. Wait . . . you’re a criminal investigator?”
“Private investigator. Hired by his ex.”
He reached across the armrest, extending his hand. “In that case, pleasure to meet you. I’m Alfred. Alfred Long.”
She shook it. “Daisy Fortune.”
“Good to meet you. I’m sure you’ll hear my name batted about during your investigations, considering I’m close to the group. But I promise you. I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t on the plane. Have been in the States for six months. This is my first trip back to Venice in a while.”
She grabbed a pen from her bag. “Would you mind . . . I don’t really have much to go on right now. I haven’t even been to the police yet. Do you happen to know any of the men that might have been on the plane with him?”
“Of course. I can give you some idea.” He took the pen from her and began to scribble some names. “These are the ones he was close to and tended to travel with. You going to interview the wife? Uh . . . Katerina?”
“Kiki? Yes, that’s my next stop, as soon as I get off the plane.”
“Ah. Right. Kiki. Katerina’s her real name. You don’t forget someone like Kiki.” His eyebrows waggled.
Goldie’s description had made Daisy curious enough, but now, she was really curious to meet the woman. “Why’s that?”
“She’s a knockout. Just a really beautiful girl. I remember Tate parading her around, when they first got engaged. He was so proud.” His brow knitted. “The ex doesn’t think she had anything to do with it, does she?”
Daisy shrugged. “Looking into all avenues at this point. What do you think?”
He tilted his head, considering this. “I mean, I guess it’s possible. She probably stood to inherit hundreds of millions. And they were just married a couple months ago. But she doesn’t seem like a rocket scientist, if you know what I mean. To plan a murder? I don’t know if she has that in her.” He shook his head. “Wow. Franklin Tate dead. No wonder the office was in a tizzy yesterday.”
“I’m sure it’s a shock to many people.”
“Well . . .” His lips twisted, as if he was attempting to find the most diplomatic way to phrase his next words. “I wouldn’t say that. Man was a bit of a heart attack waiting to happen.”
“His ex said that he was pretty fit. That’s why she thought it had to be foul play.”
He shook his head. “I guess, compared to some people, he was fit. He spent a pretty penny to keep his body looking good, from the outside—plastic surgery, tanning, all the tricks. But I was at one of the holiday parties he hosted in his villa. Lots of drugs. Lots of alcohol. Sex. Decadence. The man knew how to party, like a fraternity brother. So I get the feeling that all that pretty packaging was hiding something underneath.”
“Interesting. Do you know if he had any enemies?”
“Oh, yeah. Man like him? He made his money off of cheating the hell out of people.”
She paged through her notes. “Says here he made his fortune in the shrink-wrapping business.”
“Right,” he said doubtfully. “That might’ve been where he started, but the man liked to make deals. And making deals is all about what he could do for himself, while doing as little as possible for the other guy. Tate was good at it. He could sell anything to anyone. So I’m sure there were people along the way who felt cheated.”
She stared at the list of names he’d written down. There were six of them. “Maybe even someone he considered his friend?”
“Always a possibility.”
“Hmm.”
“Lots of possibilities. You’re going to need a bulldozer to chip through his list of business associates, friends, and relations. He had a lot, like a spider web, stretching all over the city.”
A sick feeling twisted her gut. She already knew that. The trouble with these rich and important types was that they had a lot of connections. A lot of people they might have crossed. And a lot of people who felt they were so important and above the law, that they’d take the chance in committing murder.
She sighed as she felt the plane starting to lose altitude. She looked out the window as the plane dipped below the clouds and the wings tilted, giving her a very first look at Italy. In a few moments’ time, they would land, and she would be expected to find this needle in a haystack.
