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.” Primo crossed himself.Victoria felt a surge of sympathy.“I’m so sorry.”“Thank you.”She waited a respectful moment before asking, “What do your aunts and uncles do for a living?”“My oldest aunt is a nun, the other siblings are married with families.”“And your uncle?”“Uncle Basilio and his wife have no children.He owns a television studio near Secaucus.” Primo folded his hands on the checked tablecloth.“He calls himself Bruce.My father was displeased with that, his brother denying his Italian name.”“Our names are important to us.”Primo stood.“If you’d like, I’ll make tea.”Victoria nodded.She counted up the number of days she must continue taking the doxycycline.Three more.It had seemed an interminable amount of time.Three days from now she’d be in a better frame of mind to withstand the blandishments of these young men.In the meantime … Well, she’d never ridden in a Bentley.Primo returned a few minutes later with tea and oatmeal cookies he’d found in her cupboard.Victoria hoped he hadn’t noticed the flour moths flitting around in there.He set the tray down and Victoria poured.“Tell me about your uncle’s television station.”“Uncle Basilio, that is, Uncle Bruce, produces and broadcasts live music and drama.”“What kind of drama?”“Made-for-TV movies geared to preteens.Ten- to thirteen-year-olds.”“That seems an awfully specialized audience.”“That age group is a huge market, Mrs.Trumbull, with access to a lot of disposable income.Uncle Bruce’s channel carries more advertising than most TV channels.”“What kind of movies does he show?”“Vampire and horror movies.”Victoria set down her mug.“Vampires? Horror movies?” She loved vampire movies.“I hope I haven’t offended you, Mrs.Trumbull.”“No, no.Go on.”“Vampires are big business these days.Preteens love fantasy, magic, slimy creatures crawling out of sewers.That sort of thing.”“Are you familiar with any of the actresses in your uncle’s movies?”Primo shuddered.“I haven’t seen any of his television shows for years.I’m much too old for vampires.”Much too old? Victoria sipped her tea.“Does the name Dorothy Roche mean anything to you, Primo?”He shook his head.“I’m afraid not.”“Could you find out for me, without alerting your uncle, if she performs in any of his movies?”“Certainly, Mrs.Trumbull.” Primo took a small leather notebook from an inside pocket of his uniform jacket, uncapped a black-and-gold fountain pen, and noted the name.“If she does, can you get a photograph of her?”Primo made another note and put his pen and notebook away.“I gather this should be entirely confidential?”Victoria nodded.“How successful is his studio?”“Very successful,” said Primo.“My uncle’s income from the studio didn’t match my father’s, but it yields him three or four million dollars annually.”“Three or four million?” Victoria was aghast.“Your father earned more than that?”“Three times what Uncle Bruce earns, twelve million, more or less.Uncle Bruce was jealous of my father.”A bee flew in through the open door and made its way into the cookroom, where it bumbled against a windowpane.“That’s a honeybee,” Victoria said.“Bring me a glass.I’ll trap it and you can let it out.”Once the bee was released, she asked, “Is your uncle connected with the mob?”“I don’t know,” said Primo.“My father dealt with the mob.Most construction companies in New York and Jersey do.Uncle Bruce isn’t in construction, though.”“The mob has control over many entertainment facilities, I understand.”“I suppose you’re right,” Primo said.“Uncle Basilio recently got involved in some kind of side business that seems to bring in as much as his television studio.”“Mob connected?” asked Victoria.Primo shrugged.“I have no way of knowing.He’s secretive about the business.But he makes sure we know how much money he’s making.Vulgar, my mother says.”“How is your mother?” Victoria asked.“My father’s death is a terrible shock, of course.But she’s a very strong woman.And she’s got Umberto and me.”“Were you close to your father?”“I respected him.He trained my brother and me to take over his business, but we weren’t close like father-sons.”“Tell me more about your uncle.”“Uncle Basilio always competed with Father.He wanted a bigger house, a more beautiful wife, more money.It goes on and on.” He stopped, his expression clouded.“Not anymore.” He sat up straight.“The fact that he has no children is a terrible blow to his ego.”“And your aunt, what about her?”Primo looked down at his cooling tea.“Aunt Maria Rosa.She’s all right.”“You don’t sound enthusiastic.”“It’s this way, Mrs.Trumbull.” He paused.“It’s … that is … Uncle Basilio, Uncle Bruce…”Victoria nodded.“He’s involved with another woman,” Primo blurted out.“I should think you’d be upset with your uncle rather than your aunt.”“My aunt won’t confront him.”Victoria wasn’t sure what to say.She asked, “Do you know who the other woman is?”“I saw him with her at a restaurant, but I have no idea who she is.” Primo finished his cookie and washed it down with a few more sips of tea.“Aunt Maria Rosa was the most popular girl in Uncle Bruce’s class.I’ve seen photographs of her when they got married.Amazing green eyes.She was quite beautiful.”“But?”“Well, she’s kind of let herself go.”“She knows about the other woman?”“Oh, yes.She knows all right.”“Where are you staying, Primo?”“At the Harbor View, Mrs.Trumbull.” Primo stood.“I’ve booked a suite there for three weeks.”“July into August? That will cost a fortune.”“Mrs.Trumbull, we are hunting down my father’s killer.No expense is too great.” He followed Victoria into the kitchen.“The car and I are at your disposal.”Victoria smiled [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]