Jessica Ware for professional advice on his business, or were they simply attractive…how do you say? ‘Go-fers?’”
Sophia Fellini allowed a small smile. “Gophers? I tend to think of them as ‘weasels,’ Mr. Zeissing.”
Zoran grimaced. “I was referring to their position with regard to your husband’s business, Mrs. Fellini.”
“In terms of position, I’m sure they assumed whatever position Marco wished. Marco didn’t much care for missionaries.”
Yoko decided she’d better get this interview back on course. Raunchy talk didn’t go down well with Zoran. What was Sophia thinking? Had she tried to chase away thoughts of her sudden widowhood with a snifter or two of cognac? Although Yoko didn’t know Sophia Fellini well, she hadn’t expected crude talk from her. Was this the shock of her husband’s death talking?
“We appreciate your frankness in volunteering information about your husband’s extra-marital affairs, Sophia, and we’ll certainly explore that topic later. Right now, it would be helpful if we consider other aspects of your husband’s life. Let’s talk about your husband’s business, how he made his money.”
Zoran picked up the cue. “Did Marco sell objets d’art on consignment, or did he buy things on his own and sell them through his gallery, or privately through his connections, or at public auction?”
Sophia sighed. “Mostly, Marco bought pieces for which he knew he had a buyer, or more than one buyer. He rarely accepted consignments, unless he was certain he knew someone who would buy the item. He was very shrewd about such matters.”
“Therefore the items in the gallery are items that he misjudged, art that did not sell as he expected? Costly things that buyers turned out not to want?”
“Not at all, Mr. Zeissing. Sometimes it simply took customers a short while to convince themselves of what Marco already knew: they wanted the piece and would buy it. The point is, my husband was a good student of human nature, as well as of the value of antique collectibles. He understood that most collectors would not actually pay their money for something unless and until they were allowed to perform their own little rituals of purchase, like pretending they needed to ‘sleep on it.’ Of course, sometimes Marco would buy associated art, knowing that specific clients were quite likely to buy that item too, once they saw it.”
“Did anyone ever complain after a purchase? Were any of his customers dissatisfied?”
Sophia Fellini paused for a moment, then said, “I can’t recall a single instance of an unsatisfied customer, Detective.”
“Not even one? For any reason? Please consider the question carefully.”
“No, not one,” the widow snapped. “That’s why I have trouble believing that my husband was murdered, you see. Who would want to kill him? Not anyone he did business with, certainly. He did have some kind of dispute with someone who claimed that Marco had obtained a piece illicitly, but every art dealer runs into those lunatics now and then, every dealer, I assure you. You just have to learn how to handle them.
“Marco would never buy anything that didn’t have impeccable credentials. His reputation in the art world was absolutely without blemish. It had to be.”
“Elaborate, please.”
“It’s the nature of this business, Mr. Zeissing. One unhappy customer, someone who had purchased a piece of great value, only to discover that it wasn’t as valuable as he thought, could destroy my husband’s business. There is not an infinite number of collectors of very high-priced items, Detective—and most of them know each other and all of them are jealous of each other and all of them talk. All the time.”
“Yes. I see why your husband had to be very careful about the items he offered for sale.”
“Let me give you an example. Several months ago, Marco was approached by another Swiss gentleman….”
“Excuse me,” Zoran interrupted. “You said
Sophia Fellini allowed a small smile. “Gophers? I tend to think of them as ‘weasels,’ Mr. Zeissing.”
Zoran grimaced. “I was referring to their position with regard to your husband’s business, Mrs. Fellini.”
“In terms of position, I’m sure they assumed whatever position Marco wished. Marco didn’t much care for missionaries.”
Yoko decided she’d better get this interview back on course. Raunchy talk didn’t go down well with Zoran. What was Sophia thinking? Had she tried to chase away thoughts of her sudden widowhood with a snifter or two of cognac? Although Yoko didn’t know Sophia Fellini well, she hadn’t expected crude talk from her. Was this the shock of her husband’s death talking?
“We appreciate your frankness in volunteering information about your husband’s extra-marital affairs, Sophia, and we’ll certainly explore that topic later. Right now, it would be helpful if we consider other aspects of your husband’s life. Let’s talk about your husband’s business, how he made his money.”
Zoran picked up the cue. “Did Marco sell objets d’art on consignment, or did he buy things on his own and sell them through his gallery, or privately through his connections, or at public auction?”
Sophia sighed. “Mostly, Marco bought pieces for which he knew he had a buyer, or more than one buyer. He rarely accepted consignments, unless he was certain he knew someone who would buy the item. He was very shrewd about such matters.”
“Therefore the items in the gallery are items that he misjudged, art that did not sell as he expected? Costly things that buyers turned out not to want?”
“Not at all, Mr. Zeissing. Sometimes it simply took customers a short while to convince themselves of what Marco already knew: they wanted the piece and would buy it. The point is, my husband was a good student of human nature, as well as of the value of antique collectibles. He understood that most collectors would not actually pay their money for something unless and until they were allowed to perform their own little rituals of purchase, like pretending they needed to ‘sleep on it.’ Of course, sometimes Marco would buy associated art, knowing that specific clients were quite likely to buy that item too, once they saw it.”
“Did anyone ever complain after a purchase? Were any of his customers dissatisfied?”
Sophia Fellini paused for a moment, then said, “I can’t recall a single instance of an unsatisfied customer, Detective.”
“Not even one? For any reason? Please consider the question carefully.”
“No, not one,” the widow snapped. “That’s why I have trouble believing that my husband was murdered, you see. Who would want to kill him? Not anyone he did business with, certainly. He did have some kind of dispute with someone who claimed that Marco had obtained a piece illicitly, but every art dealer runs into those lunatics now and then, every dealer, I assure you. You just have to learn how to handle them.
“Marco would never buy anything that didn’t have impeccable credentials. His reputation in the art world was absolutely without blemish. It had to be.”
“Elaborate, please.”
“It’s the nature of this business, Mr. Zeissing. One unhappy customer, someone who had purchased a piece of great value, only to discover that it wasn’t as valuable as he thought, could destroy my husband’s business. There is not an infinite number of collectors of very high-priced items, Detective—and most of them know each other and all of them are jealous of each other and all of them talk. All the time.”
“Yes. I see why your husband had to be very careful about the items he offered for sale.”
“Let me give you an example. Several months ago, Marco was approached by another Swiss gentleman….”
“Excuse me,” Zoran interrupted. “You said
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