"The two parallel investigations-on the manager of Kevin Matwin's Shoppe and the Italian count. Who is doing what?" Malcolm asked. He sipped his coffee and nodded his thanks to Paul.
Paul glanced at his notebook. "I was responsible for the investigation into the financial situation with Mr. Matwin and his manager, Mr. Jeff Moore. A Shoppe for the Arts: The business is doing well. Solid clientele, excellent work. The reproductions are of the highest quality. Mr. Matwin wants to set up a new lab. Pretty expensive lab, too. He's having difficulty raising the cash at a reasonable lending rate. The only downside-the sale of a series to the Pacific Rim countries showed a loss. I couldn't find a reason."
"Cookies?" Joe asked. "Don't you have any more cookies, Malcolm?" He sipped his coffee, ignoring Paul.
"You ate them all yesterday," Paul said, and continued, "Mr. Moore. He's been the manager of the Shoppe for the last ten years. He's a close friend of Mr. Matwin. He has a good income, but rumors state the good income is sifted through a gambling wife. She mainly gambles in Europe. Difficult to check how much or how often and who pays the debts."
"Interesting. I've never seen a family free of problems when gambling is involved." Malcolm glanced up from his notes. "Joe? Where's he gone now?"
"Probably to the snack machine," Paul said.
"Oops, sorry," Joe said as he returned to the room. "My turn?"
"The count. What do you have on him?" Malcolm asked.
"His family produced quality wine for generations. He owns two travel agencies, both quite profitable, a yacht, anchored in San Remo for most of the year, no girl friends, no close friends… He avoids publicity." Joe paused. "I have a contact in the States who promises to talk to me about Mr. di Monteturro, but only on a face-to-face basis. I'll leave for New York tonight, if that's okay with you, Malcolm."
Malcolm nodded. "Yes, we need as much information about Mr. di Monteturro as we can find. He had just appeared on the scene when the accident at Kevin's villa occurred." He shifted in his chair and turned away from Joe. "That's all for the moment, Joe. Paul, I have something else for you. Please stay."
Paul raised one eyebrow and waited until Joe left. "What's up?"
"Someone has to escort Tanya from Rio de Janeiro back here. I may send you, if you promise not to-if you assure me that you won't-" Malcolm coughed, scowled at Paul. "I don't want you to get involved with Tanya Caldwell."