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Her mouth widened to an O. “No. Are you sure?”
Daisy nodded.
She patted her heart. “Oh,mon Dieu.Excuse me.”
She looked around, then approached another man at a nearby table. After conversing briefly, she turned and motioned Daisy out to a narrow hallway behind the casino.
“Do they know how it happened?” she turned and asked, eyes rimmed with worry, still patting her chest.
“The official cause of death was a heart attack. But his ex-wife wanted me to confirm that. I’m a private investigator.” She shuffled through her things and pulled out a business card, since the woman looked skeptical.
“Confirm that? What else could they possibly think happened?”
Daisy gave her an innocent shrug. “I don’t know. Since you were there on the plane, I was hoping you could tell me what you remember? Apparently, a lot of people were very drunk and don’t remember much.”
“I wasn’t drunk—I’d just gotten off of work. Butoui, they were quite sloppy. Mostly Americans, I think. I knew Frankie—he came in here all the time, big spender. But this was the first time we ever got to talking. He told me he wanted to show me his private plane. I said sure, because he offered to drive me home afterwards, and I didn’t want to pay for a cab. We stopped atLe Blancbecause he told me he wanted to try to recoup his losses, and he thought I could give him tips.”
“Le Blanc?”
“A fancy casino. In Nice. For fancy people. Invitation only, big hush-hush, important place You know? He thought he fit in with them, but he stood out. He said he could make his money back. I told him he was wasting his time, but he didn’t believe me.”
“And what happened?”
She scoffed. “What I thought would happen. He lost even more money. He was making foolish bets. I think he was betting money he didn’t even have. He didn’t care. He was crazy.”
“Okay . . . and then what happened?”
She shook her head in disdain, signaling things had only gotten worse. “Ugh. Then I got to his plane, and I realized it wasn’t even his plane. He talks a lot, about how rich and important he is, but in reality?” Her nose wrinkled. “Not true. It is all a smoke show.”
“Yes, I know. He used to own the plane, but he sold it because he wasn’t using it as much,” Daisy explained.
She snorted. “If you want to believe that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I meant that it’s all a lie. He pours me champagne, tries to tell me it’s the expensive kind. I know how the expensive kind tastes. That was not it. He shows off his ‘custom’ blazer but I saw the place where he cut the tag out, probably from some department store chain. He’s a nice enough man, but he tells the tall tales to make people think he is more important. Big man. Typical American.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Daisy asked.
“It was that night. I know what he wanted, but I wasn’t interested. He tried to get me into his bed. I said no. And then I left, got my own cab, before the plane took off.” She lifted her hands. “That is all. The last time I saw him, he was lying on the bed in the plane, trying to get me to kiss him. I told him it was not happening, and then as the cab drove away from the airport, I saw his plane taking off.”
“When you left, was there anyone else on the plane?”
She nodded. “A few men were partying with some loose women. They were doing lines of coke in that conference room. I didn’t pay much attention to them. That is not my thing. So I said goodbye to the captain, and the flight attendants, and went on my way.”
“So Franklin Tate didn’t argue with anyone or say anything to you that night that made you think something was wrong?”
She shook her head. “But now that I think about it, it makes sense, if someone killed him. He was nice, a big flirt, but also a liar and a cheat. And maybe he crossed the wrong person, who came back for revenge. But if they wanted his winnings, they’d be disappointed. I’ve never seen a man lose so much money in such a short period of time.”
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “You said he did that a lot, though.”
“Oui, I’ve seen him lose, yes. He was never much of a gambler. Always taking too much of a risk, unnecessarily. He’d lose fifty, a hundred thousand in a night. But that night . . .” She gritted her teeth. “He was doing really terribly. He was down five-hundred thousand.”
Daisy blinked. “And he didn’t seem upset about that?”
“Oh, he did. But in a joking way. He told me he wanted me to keep him company so he didn’t go off and commit suicide after having lost so badly. He said I should lick his wounds.”
Daisy cringed at the mental image. “So he was in a good mood the whole time?”
