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“Exactly. Classic motive number two. Once I’m outta here, learning about hubby is priority one.” He looked at his Timex.
“Jealous spouse,” I said. “Could turn out to be straightforward.”
He crossed his fingers.
“What is it you think I can help you with?”
“Nothing specific, just spread your aura.”
That sounded like tokenism and it made me wonder.
He said, “Anything else you wanna see?”
I opened the double doors to a generous closet. Hanging space to the left, drawers to the right.
Milo said, “Been through it, nothing in the pockets except more condoms. Two packets for each jacket and a couple more boxes in the medicine cabinet. Italian design, Swiss manufacture. Gluten-free and vegan.”
I laughed.
He said, “I’m serious. And maybe the poor guy was onto something because there was nothing interesting medication-wise. Guy didn’t even seem to have headaches.”
I examined the clothing. Not much quantity but plenty of quality.
Three unstructured Brunello Cucinelli cashmere sport coats were paired with brightly colored slim-fit slacks, a black calfskin jacket was coupled with black Stefano Ricci jeans. No ties, no dress shirts but for a Prada wing-collar formal under a navy-blue tux. Both crisp enough to be unused. A handwritten receipt on high-quality paper hanging from a button inside the tux jacket supported that. Handmade forSig. G. Aggiuntaby a tailor in Milan. Thirty-four hundred euros.
The drawers contained black T-shirts, mostly silk, a few linen and cotton; black silk bikini underwear, turtlenecks, cashmere sweaters, fitted polos in the same bright hues as the pants.
In contrast with the limited display of textiles, shoes filled every inch of floor space and two upper shelves. Tennis shoes for exercise and for show, suede drivers, supple loafers, woven oxfords, glossy wingtips, lace-up boots. Four pairs of Chelsea boots. Peanut butter leather, gray leather, crocodile, ostrich hide.
Milo said, “Maybe married women weren’t his only fetish.”
I pointed to a mustard-colored jacket coupled with scarlet pants. “No suits, what the Italians callspezzato.”
“What?”
“Unmatched components.”
“And you know this because…”
“Evaluated a family originally from Rome a while back. The husband was into it, one point of contention was he wanted to dress his ten-year-old son the same way. The wife thought it was vulgar. Like him.”
He looked down at his own contrasting getup.
I said, “Ahead of your time.”
“Live long enough, everything comes ’round.”
“I mentioned it because apart from no business wear, his tux looks unused and he doesn’t own a tie. Whatever he does to make money doesn’t require formality.”
“Maybe he’s Cobbler to the Stars…so far, haven’t found evidence of any kind of job.”
“The clothing’s expensive, so he’s got an income from somewhere.”
“Yeah, alligator boots have to cost three figures…poor lizard. Anything else you wanna check out?”
“What’s behind the closed door?”
“Nothing. Empty space.”
