“I’m sorry, I should have been clearer. What I meant was, were you married, did you have any other family?”

“I had a wife. Until she got tired of everything going downhill.”

“Any children?”

“No. That was a good thing. Or maybe not. All my father’s money went to his grandchildren—my sister’s children.” Mellani produced a smile, but there was bitterness in it. “You know why? This is funny. My sister was a very screwed-up person, very anxious. Both her kids are bipolar, ADHD, OCD, you name it. So my father … he decides that I’m fine, I’m the healthy one in the family, but they need all the help they can get.”

“Are you in contact with your sister?”

“My sister is dead.”

“I’m sorry, Paul.”

“Years ago. Five? Six? Cancer. Maybe dead isn’t so bad.”

“What makes you say that?”

Again the bitter smile, drifting into sadness. “See? Questions. Questions.” He stared down at the tabletop as though he were trying to discern the outlines of something in murky water. “The thing is, money meant a lot to my father. It was the most important thing. You understand?”

His sadness was reflected in Kim’s eyes. “Yes.”

“My therapist told me that my father’s obsession with money was the reason I became an accountant. After all, what do accountants count? They count money.”

“And when he left everything to your sister’s family …?”

Mellani raised his hand again. This time he mimed the slow descent of a car into a deep valley. “Therapy gives you all this insight, all this clarity, but that’s not always a good thing, is it.” It wasn’t a question.

• • •

Emerging from Paul Mellani’s dreary office half an hour later into the sunny parking lot gave Gurney the jarring feeling he got coming out of a dark movie theater into daylight—a shift from one world to another.

Kim took a deep breath. “Wow. That was …”

“Dismal? Desolate? Morose?”

“Just sad.” She looked shaken.

“Did you notice the dates on the magazines in the reception area?”

“No, why?”

“They were all from years ago, nothing current. And speaking of dates, you realize what time of year this is?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the last week of March. Less than three weeks to April fifteenth. These are the weeks every accountant should be crazy busy.”

“Oh, jeez, you’re right. Meaning he has no clients left. Or not very many. So what’s he doing in there?”

“Good question.”