“Sector 38?” He looked convincingly blank.
“A gambling satellite.”
“I often go to Vegas II for a quick weekend, but I don’t recall patronizing a casino in that sector. I don’t know what trouble you’re referring to.”
“Do you play roulette?”
“No, it’s a fool’s game. Randy’s fond of it. I prefer blackjack.”
Randall Slade didn’t look like a fool. He looked to Eve like a man who could knock anything out of his path without breaking stride. Nor was he her image of a fashion designer. He dressed simply, his black suit unadorned by any of the studs or braids currently in fashion. And his wide hands had the look of a laborer rather than an artist.
“I hope you’ll be brief,” he said in the tone of a man used to giving orders. “Mirina is upstairs lying down. I don’t want to leave her for long.”
?
?Then I’ll be brief.” Eve didn’t object when he took out a gold case containing ten slim black cigarettes. Technically, she could have, but she waited until he’d lighted one. “What was your relationship with Prosecutor Towers?”
“We were friendly. She was soon to become my mother-in-law. We shared a deep love for Mirina.”
“She approved of you.”
“I have no reason to believe otherwise.”
“Your career has benefited quite a lot through your association with Angelini Exports.”
“True.” He blew out smoke that smelled lightly of lemon mint. “I like to think Angelini has also benefited quite a lot through their association with me.” He surveyed Eve’s gray suit. “That cut and color are both incredibly unflattering. You might want to take a look at my on-the-rack line here in New York.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.”
“I dislike seeing attractive women in unattractive clothes.” He smiled and surprised Eve with a flare of charm. “You should wear bolder colors, sleeker lines. A woman with your build would carry them well.”
“So I’m told,” she muttered, thinking of Roarke. “You’re about to marry a very wealthy woman.”
“I’m about to marry the woman I love.”
“It’s a happy coincidence that she’s wealthy.”
“It is.”
“And money is something you have a need for.”
“Don’t we all?” Smooth, unoffended, again amused.
“You have debts, Mr. Slade. Large, outstanding debts in an area that can cause considerable pain in the collecting process.”
“That’s accurate.” He drew smoke in again. “I’m a gambling addict, Lieutenant. Recovering. With Mirina’s help and support, I’ve undergone treatment. I haven’t made a wager in two months, five days.”
“Roulette, wasn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“And the amount you owe, in round figures?”
“Five hundred thousand.”
“And the amount of your fiancée’s inheritance?”
“Probably triple that, in round figures. More, considering the stocks and holdings that wouldn’t be converted into credit or cash. Killing my fiancée’s mother would certainly have been one way to solve my financial difficulties.” He stubbed his cigarette out thoughtfully. “Then again, so would the contract I’ve just signed for my fall line. Money isn’t important enough to me to kill for it.”