“Of course.”
She came in and sat down. Simon poured himself another cup of coffee and offered her a cigarette. She shook her head, and he lighted it for himself.
“I feel terribly guilty about your husband,” he said. “I might have saved him. I just wasn’t thinking fast enough.”
“At least you tried to catch the men who killed him. The police told me. I wanted to thank you.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more successful. But if the police catch them, I may be able to identify them. I suppose you haven’t any ideas about them?”
“I have none. Filippo was a good man. I didn’t think he had any enemies. No. Never.”
“Did he have business rivals?”
“I can’t think of any. We were quite rich, but he was successful without hurting anyone. In any case, he had got rid of his interests.”
“What were they?”
“He manufactured shoes. It was a good business. But Europe today is an uncertain place. There is always fear — of war, of inflations, of unstable governments. So, we were going to America. Our quota number had just come through.”