Part 31 (2/2)
”Oh-you have a hunch?”
”Something like that.”
”We always talk in circles.”
”So let's talk about something else.”
”All right-let's talk about you.”
”Let's talk about you.”
Their pasta arrived. Jordan took a bite. It was delicious. Ragnor knew Venice, and he knew his restaurants.
She took a sip of her wine, studying him. ”I'm an open book. I live in Charleston. I was born in Charleston. Jared and I both grew up with my grandmother, Granny Jay. We have her eyes. I'm short-he's tall. He started dating Cindy in high school. They adore one another.” ”That's Jared and Cindy. What about you?”
”Well, I did leave Charleston to go to Brown. I majored in English and Comparative Literature. I write articles now and then, but mostly I do book reviews, fiction and nonfiction. I'm syndicated, and in the last few years I've done very well.”
”And your personal life?”
She took another sip of wine. ”I told you. I was engaged to a cop named Steven. He was killed. I'm sure you've heard the grisly details-that's why I supposedly went so out of my mind at the contessa's party, seeing real evil in her entertainment.”
”And after his death?”
”I've been working. Don't you want to ask me about my life before Steven? There was a guy named Zachary my first year of college. He was cute-had great hair. Then there was Jimmy Adair. He wanted to move to the wilderness in Montana and rough it. Go back in time. Live in a cabin with no electricity and study wolves.”
”You've got something against wolves.”
”Nope-I'd love to visit him sometime. I just didn't want to live there. Oh-I love movies, too. Well, there you have it Steven came along, and ...”
”He was perfect.”
”You're supposed to say you're sorry, or something like that.”
He shrugged. ”So ... you've been in deep mourning.”
”Something like that.”
”I'm honored.”
”Thanks,” she murmured casually. ”So-just who are you?”
”Ragnor. Wulfsson.”
”Your real name?”
”It is my real name.”
Their main course arrived. They smiled and talked to the waiter. He left.
”And you're really from Norway?”
”Yes. Originally.”
”You've traveled a lot.”
”Quite a bit.”
”Doing?”
”Different things over the years. But mainly, spending family money. Parting with antiques here and there.”
”And learning languages. You must be very bright.”
”No more so than the next man. I travel, and I listen. And take the time,” he murmured ruefully. ”Time-time in a place helps a lot.”
”So you knew the contessa before.”
”I don't really care to go into that.”
”But you think she's evil?” Jordan wiggled her brows, as if half teasing.
”I know she's evil,” he said.
”You think the contessa caused that man to be murdered, don't you?”
”I have no proof.” ”You should tell the police.”
”Oh? And the police will arrest her because I think she caused a man's death?”
Jordan shrugged. ”It would help if you went to the police. Then they might take me more seriously. Though I must say, Roberto Capo-” she broke off.
”Roberto Capo what?” he demanded.
”He doesn't think I'm crazy. You should tell him what you think. Maybe it will matter.
Maybe they'll get someone in there to investigate the woman.”
”It won't matter if they do.”
”Why not?”
”Trust me, she covers her sins well.”
Again, the waiter came by. It was time for coffee and dessert. They both decided just coffee, and it was then that Jordan remembered to ask, ”Have you heard from Tiff?”
His expression became guarded. ”No.”
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