“Why not? I might have sold it to a certain other collector for its full value, but Kenneth was my good friend. And he had recently done a substantial favor for me … no, I will not tell you what that favor was. Also, I confess I paid less for the box than the twenty-five thousand Kenneth paid me.”
“Where did you get it?”
“In Manila.”
“Who did you buy it from?”
Ozimas smiled and shook his head.
“This certain other collector you mentioned,” I said. “Someone here in San Francisco?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
He hesitated, but only briefly. “Margaret Prine.”
“Oh? So you know her, then.”
“I have sold her a few items in the past. Items Kenneth already had or was not interested in owning.”
“She’s an avid collector, I’ve been told.”
“Quite avid. I am sure she would have been eager to have the Hainelin box if I had approached her with it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“So she didn’t know before the party that you had sold it to Kenneth?”
“Not unless Kenneth himself told her.”
“How long before the party did he know you had it?”
“Perhaps a week.”
“And you gave it to him that night, around five o’clock?”
“Yes.” Amusement decorated his face again. “Do you think Margaret Prine might have murdered poor Kenneth? Because she wanted the box for her own collection?”
“Stranger things have happened, Mr. Ozimas.”
“Yes, but Margaret Prine? No, no, the idea is too amusing.”
“Hilarious,” I said. “Would you like to suggest a better candidate?”
“I believe I will leave such speculation to you.”
“How about Kenneth’s widow? What’s your opinion of her?”
“A very attractive woman. Very clever. She propositioned me once, you know.”
“Did she?”
“Do you find that difficult to believe?”
“No. Should I?”
“I don’t think so. Not that I’m irresistible, of course; it was merely that she considered seducing a man of my tastes a stimulating challenge.”
“Uh-huh. Where did this happen?”
“Here in my home. Kenneth asked her to drop off some papers while she was in the city shopping.”
“Did you take her up on the offer?”
“I was severely tempted, I admit,” Ozimas said. “But I have certain scruples; I do not make love to the husbands or wives of business associates.”
“You’re a gentleman, you are.”
Another of his laughs. He was a guy who liked to laugh; he had a terrific sense of humor for a crook and a satyr.
I asked him, “Would you say Mrs. Purcell is capable of murder?”
“Aren’t we all, given the proper circumstances?”
“Would Kenneth’s money be her proper circumstances?”
“I hardly think so. He gave her as much as she wanted while he was alive, allowed her to go and do as she pleased.”
“Does that include affairs with other men?”
“Oh yes. Kenneth had affairs, too. Theirs was an open marriage.”
I asked bluntly, “Did he have an affair with you?”
The laugh again. “No, no. He was a confirmed heterosexual. He considered homosexuality an aberration and a sickness.”
“But you and he still got along?”
“Yes. Ours was a business relationship. One does not have to like one’s business associates to have a mutually satisfactory arrangement.”
“You mentioned that he had affairs. Any woman in particular?”
“I don’t know. He seldom discussed his female friends.”
“How about Mrs. Purcell? Any man in particular?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Eldon Summerhayes, maybe? You know who he is?”
“Of course. Was he one of Alicia’s conquests, you mean?”
“Yes. Was he?”
“I really couldn’t say. You might ask her.”
“Would she tell me?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“How well do you know Summerhayes?”
“Mostly by reputation. He despises me, I’ve been told.”
“Is that so? Why?”
“Because I am wealthy, and a bisexual, and a Filipino.”
“Have you ever had any business dealings with him?”
“None. I despise him as much as he despises me.”
“Would you say he’s honest or dishonest?”
“A little of both. Aren’t we all?”
“Not necessarily. How did he and Kenneth get along, do you know?”
“If you are asking if I consider Summerhayes capable of murder,” Ozimas said, “the answer is yes. My candid opinion is that the man is capable of anything.”