When they entered Marco Fellini’s office, Yoko was struck by the brightness of the room. Light flooded in from banks of tall, narrow windows on two walls of the room, a large, high-ceilinged space that occupied most of the building’s second floor. The windows on the north and east walls had their blinds raised to admit maximum natural light. How fortunate none of the windows would admit direct sunlight, except perhaps for an hour or so, during mid-summer sunsets. Direct sunlight certainly would damage the finish and fabrics on the fine antique furniture so artfully grouped about the room. Marco’s assistants, Iona Duncan and Jessica Ware, rose simultaneously from chairs behind mahogany desks that sat at right angles to the north wall and faced the doorway Yoko and Zoran had just passed through. “Hello, may I help you?” Iona said. She looked nervous. “I assume you are the detectives who want to talk to us?”
