The Seventh Sinner - Elizabeth Peters [13]
“He’s a nonrepresentational painter?” Jacqueline asked, through her laughter.
“You might call it that. I haven’t seen much of his work; he’s very secretive about letting people see it. He says he hates criticism. He does, too. He’s supposed to be studying with Professor Lugetti, but he won’t let the man in to look at his paintings. Michael has a studio at the Institute. Every few weeks Lugetti gets mad and forces his way into the studio, and you can hear the argument all over the building. They stand there and scream at each other for about an hour and then Lugetti stamps out, cursing in Italian, and Michael jumps up and down cursing in English.”
“Lugetti’s temper is a byword,” Jacqueline said. “I’m surprised he doesn’t throw Michael out of the place.”
“That’s what’s so funny. He swears Michael is the hottest talent since Monet.”
“I admit Michael doesn’t sound like the worrying type. What about the others?”
“José and Ted and Dana aren’t Fellows. I suppose they have their private worries—who doesn’t?—but the renewal problem isn’t bugging them.”
“Aren’t they here on some kind of scholarship aid?”
“Dana is pretty vague about her means of support; I think her family is staking her.”
“José is being sponsored by his college?”
“College?”
“He’s a Jesuit, isn’t he?”
“Right. He doesn’t need to worry about money then, does he?”
“No, I suppose not. Not money…And Ted?”
“It’s funny,” Jean said, frowning, “but we never talk about things like that…. I guess he’sgot a grant from the government or something. I do get the feeling he’s been having personal worries. He hardly ever talks about himself, but he’s engaged, to a girl back home. When he first came, he talked about her quite a bit. Showed us her picture, and all that. Lately he hasn’t mentioned her. Let’s see, who else is there? Oh, the Gold Dust twins.”
“Do you call them that? I didn’t think any of you remembered that old advertising gimmick.”
“Ann mentioned the phrase. I think she’s self-conscious about their closeness. They look enough alike to be twins, but she’s a year older than Andy.”
“Isn’t it unusual to have a brother and sister both Fellows of the Institute, in the same year?”
“Well…” Jean scraped crumbs into a neat pile with her forefinger. “I think they’re both talented. But—it’s a practical world, isn’t it? And Dr. Scoville has a lot of friends in the archaeology business.”
“I’m glad to see you aren’t as naïve as you look. How good are the Scovilles, really? Be honest—if you can.”
“I can’t judge Ann’s work, it’s not my field,” Jean said defensively. “But I happen to know Andy’s doctoral dissertation was a really brilliant piece of work. The university wanted to publish it, and they don’t do that with many dissertations.”
“Andy has his doctorate?”
“Yes, he got it at some incredible age—twentyone or twenty-two. But he doesn’t like to be called Doctor. He’s very modest.”
“No academic worries for Andy, then.”
“Oh, no. If anyone gets his fellowship renewed, it will be Andy. Look, Jacqueline, I don’t want to rush you, but—”
“Don’t be polite,” Jacqueline said, in the deceptively gentle voice Jean was beginning to know, and dread. “Just tell me outright you think I’m a nosy old gossip.”
“No,” Jean admitted. “You aren’t a gossip. Something’s bugging you. What is it?”
“I definitely do not believe in premonitions,” Jacqueline said, half to herself. “But there’s an atmosphere…. You get so you can feel it in your bones. Like earthquake weather.”
“Premonitions, intuition—I believe in them, but they’re always based on some real fact your conscious mind hasn’t recognized. Something must have happened to set you off.”
The kitchen light gleamed off Jacqueline’s bronze hair and drained her face of much of its color.
“Your friend Albert, for one thing. It seems he’s disappeared.”
II
Ann and Andy had an apartment in Trastevere.