He was back in five seconds, carrying a framed photo that he handed to Milo. His “girl” was a beautiful woman in her forties, with upswept ebony hair, wide eyes ripe with amusement, and a pointy dimpled chin.

“My only child.” Tranh frowned. “She is married, but only technically. Her husband has been living in Cambodia for seventeen years and has at least two other wives that are confirmed, quite possibly more.”

“Sounds like a peach.”

“Norbert Lam is a lowlife.”

I said, “Phyllis has only been married once?”

“Yes. Big wedding.” Albert Tranh’s expression said a repeat of the experience would be unwelcome. “Ursula murdered, this is unbelievable. So you’re here to learn more about her through Phyllis?”

“Why did Phyllis and Richard stop dating?”

“That.” Tranh sighed. “Perhaps I’ll regret mentioning it in the first place.”

“We appreciate anything you can offer, Mr. Tranh.”

“Hmm … why did they stop? From the little Phyllis told me, she decided that Richard held on to feelings for Ursula and that caused her to—I believe the expression is, she bailed?”

Milo smiled. “Yes, sir.”

“I taught English and American history in Saigon, spent time as a graduate student at the University of Illinois in Urbana. The key, obviously, is to learn idioms. But keeping up is difficult.”

I said, “Could you tell us about your business relationship with Ursula?”

“With Ursula and Richard. They continued working together even after their divorce. Are you familiar with their company?”

“Urrick, Ltd.”

“We are among their customers.”

“What do you buy?”

“There’s no simple answer for that,” said Tranh. “We sell deeply discounted merchandise, mostly domestic overstock and budget imports from Asia. It’s a fluctuating inventory, based on educated guesses about customer demand.”

Irma the maid brought a silver tray holding a coffeepot, bone china cups, and a plate of wafer cookies. She poured for Tranh first, offered us the opportunity to change our minds.

I said, “No thanks.”

Milo said, “Just half a cup.”

Hard to imagine his digestive system had any room to spare, but maybe taking two cookies was exhibiting good manners in service of rapport and I was the rube. I watched him chew energetically and reach for a third cookie.

When Albert Tranh placed his cup on a coaster, I said, “That type of purchasing sounds risky.”

“Risky but exciting, we’re always having to figure things out,” said Tranh. “And we’ve had our disasters.” He smiled. “Would you by any chance be interested in ten thousand, five hundred and thirty-six tiny stuffed red crocodiles that disintegrate when water touches them and end up smelling like week-old pot roast?”

Milo said, “Hmm, let me talk to my people about that.”

Tranh’s smile widened then dropped off his face. “The key is to win many more bets than we lose and for the most part we’ve been able to do that. And I must say Ursula and Richard have helped.”