Grave Phantoms (Roaring Twenties #3)(38)

“Please call me Mathilda,” the second woman said.

“Delighted,” Astrid said, shaking both their hands.

After exchanging further pleasantries, Dr. Navarro led them all to the fireplace, saying, “Please, sit with us.” She dismissed the butler in Spanish while Bo and Astrid relaxed together on a long leather sofa facing the two ladies.

“I have known Hadley’s father for many, many years,” Dr. Navarro said. “A great man, very intelligent. But not as intelligent as his daughter. That brother of yours is a lucky man.”

“We spend summers at a small villa in Spain, so we missed the wedding, unfortunately,” Mathilda added.

“Spain,” Astrid said. It sounded warm and exotic. Probably wasn’t gray and dreary and flooding there.

“Maria’s first husband was filthy rich,” Mathilda remarked casually. “Ricardo Navarro was a bastard of the highest rank, but I thank him daily for having the decency to die quickly—and with his enormous will intact—before I was tempted to do the deed myself.”

For the first time, it struck Astrid that the two women were lovers, and her face heated. She wondered if Bo had caught on. Probably long before now. He always had better instincts about people. It also struck Astrid that the two women weren’t unlike her and Bo: two cultures, two classes . . . a union unsanctioned by society. And yet, they were living together in a posh apartment building in Nob Hill. Lecturing in Mexico. Vacationing in Europe.

Pretending they were other people.

If they could do it, could she and Bo?

A dangerous thought, and one that struck a match inside Astrid’s mind.

“Anyway,” Mathilda continued, pushing a lock of delicately waving white hair away from her face. “We finally met your brother a few months back—during a dinner at Hadley’s family home in Russian Hill. Lowe was most entertaining.”

“And he gave us a wonderfully potent bottle of akvavit,” Dr. Navarro said. “But I suppose we have you to thank for that, don’t we, Mr. Yeung? You work with the older brother, Winter, yes? Bootlegging must be fascinating work.”

Bo scratched the back of his neck as he struggled with a smile. “That wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe it, but I’m not complaining.”

“Indeed.” Mathilda gave him an appreciative once-over. “They say noble work should stimulate the mind, but whose mind is never specified. I would imagine you’ve stimulated thousands of minds all over the city.”

The corners of Bo’s mouth curled. “I’ll remind Winter of that when I’m asking for a pay increase.”

The women laughed and raised invisible glasses while Mathilda toasted, “Here’s to noble work.”

Astrid found herself pulled down meandering conversational paths as the two ladies spoke about their career, and how they had lived and worked together in both Mexico City and San Francisco for thirty-odd years, and had finally decided to retire and share this penthouse. “To the eternal disappointment of a few tenants in the building,” Mathilda said with a wink.

“Yes, I believe we met one downstairs,” Bo said. “She had strong opinions about immigrants.”

“Mrs. Humphreys,” the two women intoned together.

“Her husband’s a state senator,” Dr. Navarro said.

“He receives calls from ladies of the evening when his wife is away at their ranch,” Mathilda added. “Why he married that cow in the first place is beyond me.”

Bo and Astrid glanced at each other with twin expressions of delight.

Mathilda shrugged. “Maria owns the building”—The entire building? Good God!—“so they pay us rent, and being able to raise it whenever we damn well please is no small satisfaction, let me tell you.”

“I can only imagine,” Astrid said with a smile.

“Enough about us. I know you didn’t come here to listen to two old ladies gossip,” Dr. Navarro said. “Hadley told me you had something interesting to show us.”

Bo unwrapped the idol. Dr. Navarro slipped on a pair of glasses that hung from a chain around her neck amongst long strings of beads. A small folding table was set up between her and Mathilda, and it was upon this that she inspected the turquoise figure. While she did, Bo gave them a very condensed explanation of how the idol came into their possession, smoothly leaving out all the details about Astrid’s visions. In Bo’s story, in fact, the idol mysteriously turned up on the pier when the yacht crashed into it.

Upon doling out this lie, he gave Astrid a look that said: I know, I know. But how am I to account for why we haven’t returned a priceless artifact to the yacht’s owner?

And she gave him a look in return that said: I am absolutely, positively crazy about you and don’t give two hoots about what you tell them.

And in answer to that, Bo gave Astrid’s legs a bold perusal that sent a quick thrill through her chest.

Unaware of their silent communiqués, Dr. Navarro studied the idol, turning it over carefully before giving Mathilda a turn. They looked it over for a long time, and when they were both done murmuring small exclamations and pointing things out to each other in Spanish, Dr. Navarro took off her glasses and smiled up at Bo and Astrid. “Hadley was correct, as usual. This piece was certainly made in a style that was common in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.”