The Villa

that."
    David's hands curled into fists. "They'd know if I'd left the house." He wasn't having his kids interrogated by the police. Not over a worthless excuse of humanity like Avano. "That's all we're going to discuss until I consult an attorney."
    "That's your right." Maguire rose and played what she banked was her trump card. "Thanks for your time,
    Mr. Cutter. We'll question Ms. Giambelli about her ex-husband's finances."
    "I'd think his widow would know more."
    Maguire continued. "Pilar Giambelli was married to him a lot longer, and part of the business for which he worked."
    David slipped his hands into his pockets. "She knows less about the business than either of you." And thinking of her, David made his choice. "Avano had been, for the last three years, systematically embezzling money from Giambelli. Padded expense accounts, inflated sales figures, travel vouchers for trips not taken or taken but for personal reasons. Never a great deal at a time, and he picked various pockets so that it went unnoticed. In his position, professionally and personally, no one would have, and no one did, question his figures."
    Claremont nodded. "But you did."
    "I did. I caught some of it the day of the party and, in double-checking it, began to see the pattern. It was clear to me he'd been dipping for some time under his name, under Pilar's and under his daughter's. He didn't trouble to forge their signatures on the vouchers, just signed them. To a total of just over six hundred thousand in the last three years."
    "And when you confronted him…" Maguire prompted.
    "I never did. I intended to, and believe I made that intention clear during our conversation at the party. My impression was he understood I knew something. It was business, Detective, and would have been handled through the business. I reported the problem to Tereza Giambelli and Eli MacMillan the day after the party. The conclusion was that I would handle it, do what could be done to arrange for Avano to pay the money back. He would resign from the company. If he refused any of the stipulations outlined, the Giambellis would take legal action."
    "Why was this information withheld?"
    "It was the wish of the senior Ms. Giambelli that her granddaughter not be humiliated by her father's behavior becoming public. I was asked to say nothing, unless directly asked by the police. At this point, La Signora, Eli MacMillan and myself are the only people who know. Avano's dead, and it seemed unnecessary to add to the scandal by painting him as a thief as well as a philanderer."
    "Mr. Cutter," Claremont said. "When it's murder, nothing's unnecessary."
     
    David had barely closed the door at the cops' back and taken a breath to steady himself when it opened again. Sophia didn't knock, didn't think to.
    "What did they want?"
    He had to adjust quickly and folded his concern and anger together, tucked them away. "We're both running late for the meeting." He scooped up his notes, slid them with the reports, the graphs, the memos into his briefcase.
    "David." Sophia simply stayed with her back to the door. "I could've gone after the cops and tried to get answers I haven't been able to get from them. I hoped that you'd be more understanding."
    "They had questions, Sophia. Follow-ups, I suppose you call them."
    "Why you and not me or several other people in this building? You barely knew my father, had never worked with him or as far as I'm aware spent any time with him. What could you tell the police about him, or his murder, that they haven't already been told?"
    "Little to nothing. I'm sorry, Sophia, but we'll need to table this, at least for now. People are waiting."
    "David. Give me some credit. They came directly to your office, and stayed in here long enough for there to have been something. Word travels," she finished. "I have a right to know."
    He said nothing for a moment, but studied her face. Yes, she had a right to know, he decided. And he had no right to take that away from her.
    He picked up his phone. "Ms. Giambelli and I will be a few minutes late for the meeting," he told his assistant. He nodded to a chair as he hung up. "Sit down."
    "I'll stand. You may have noticed, I'm not delicate."
    "I've noticed you handle yourself. The police had some questions that sprang, at least in part, from the fact that I'm seeing your mother."
    "I see. Do they have some theory that you and Mama have been engaged in some long, secret affair? That could have been put to rest easily