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“She left a day ago and packed an overnight bag. She mentioned something about taking a boat when she reached Venice. Which means she’s probably at her villa in Nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. France.”
Daisy frowned. “The housekeeper said she left this morning.”
He laughed. “Roberta collects a paycheck from Kiki Tate. She’ll tell people whatever Kiki tells her to.”
“Do you know why she left?”
He shrugged. “Probably to get away from people. The media’s been all over the island lately.”
Daisy sighed. “I wanted to speak with her, but I really want to talk with you, too. Do you have a moment?”
His lazy smile spread wider. “All I got is time.”
“I thought you were Mr. Tate’s protégé. In the same business as he is?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“What is that business, exactly? Shrink-wrapping?”
He laughed. “Nah. You don’t get rich in shrink-wrapping. Frankie started there, but his main thing was passive income. Setting up ways to make money while doing as little as possible.”
Daisy raised an eyebrow. She’d always been skeptical of people who professed to make loads of money while doing nothing; but clearly, something had worked for Franklin Tate. “What kind of passive income?”
“He’s all over. Multiple industries. Real estate. Crypto. Day trading. And he taught me how to do it, too. So yeah . . . it’s the life. As you can see.”
“You owe a lot to him, huh? How did you meet him?”
“Si. I was homeless as a teen, living on the streets. He came through on a tour with his first wife, and I was panhandling outside a café. He and his wife bought me a meal and we got to talking. He’d just moved to Venice and needed someone to help him learn Italian. So I started off as his tutor, and he put me up here. When he learned the language, he started teaching me his business.”
“So do you stand to inherit his business, now?”
He shook his head. “I have my own business, built on the same model as his. I guess his wife would inherit that, not that she’d know a thing about how to run it. She’s not all there.” He tapped his temple.
“It must’ve been a shock for you to lose him?”
The smirk on his face disappeared. “Yeah. I’m sorry about it. Really sorry. He was not the best of men, but he was good to me.”
She cocked her head. “Oh? Why do you say he wasn’t the best of men?”
“Eh. That was the first lesson he told me. In business, you’re not going to make everyone happy. He sure didn’t. I am sure some people felt cheated by him. But it’s a dog-eat-dog world. You do the best you can for yourself, and if someone doesn’t like it, tough.”
“So he had enemies.”
“I’m sure.”
“Do you know their names?”
Matteo let out a short, honking laugh. “Can’t help you there.”
“What about the people who were on the plane with him that night? Any of them?”
He shook his head. “As far as I know, they were all his good friends.”
“HisFrati.”
