Pile carpet in spotless cream, French windows overlooking the water, an open staircase to the second floor, Angelique looked around appreciatively; this was much more promising than the tatty student apartments where Teddy's friends usually held their parties. Spoiled children, all of them, running around on their daddies' money, playing at being poor. Angelique knew poverty, and a 'charmingly bohemian' walk-up in the Village wasn't it.
She scanned the room further, expecting very little, but hoping to encounter someone marginally more useful to her than Teddy himself had turned out to be. No interest at all in his father's uranium concerns, if he didn't reveal something tangible soon she would be forced to write him up as decent ransom material and nothing more. Not that she'd mind— their assignations had never been particularly satisfying, professional interests aside, and she was sure the experience would teach him more than Columbia had, it might even be good for the boy.
"Oh, hello!" Angelique was interrupted in her train of thought by a perky blonde with a tray of coupe glasses, "so glad you could make it Edward, and who's this?"
"Christiana," Angelique summoned a smile, docile as a housecat, and accepted a whiskey sour. The liquor at least, was smoother than the stuff she'd resigned herself to swilling with Teddy's miserable fellow graduate students.
"Charmed," said the girl, a faint, English accent coloring her words, "please, make yourself at home."
In time, Teddy slipped off to the patio with a few other people. Angelique knew from experience that he wouldn't be back for twenty minutes at least, laughing and smelling of marijuana smoke. It was horribly lax of her, but she hadn't gone with him after the first few parties. He never said anything of interest, and his friends were somehow more insufferable when high. She watched over the shoulders of two men engaged in a chess game, but one of them missed two perfectly clear checks within 5 minutes, and other was hardly any better. She drifted away in disgust and set about investigating the rest of the apartment.
She found herself studying some photographs on the wall. Silver gel on high gloss paper, professionally mounted. Quality materials notwithstanding, the framing was naïvely pedestrian and the subject matter banal. A few sailboats at dock, a lone skyscraper, a revoltingly quaint shot of a windmill. There were few enough portraits mixed in that Angelique paused over each of them until one stopped her short: a young man in profile, undressed from the shoulders up at least, fair hair, a weak chin. Good enough looking, Angelique supposed, even if she didn't quite see the appeal. She smiled, this was shaping up to be a much more rewarding evening than she had anticipated.
"Oh, do you like them?" Angelique whirled to face her hostess.
"Very much, they're lovely. You have quite the collection."
"Thank you, I took them myself."
"Did you? How marvelous!" She surveyed the pictures again, taking care to look suitably impressed, "why, you must have traveled a great deal."
"Here and there." The girl took a sip of her drink, sadness surfacing beneath the brittle cheer in her eyes, "I used to serve quite often as my father's traveling companion. His research took him all sorts of places."
Of course. Everything fell into place, this must be the little chippy who took down Gervaise Ravel. Angelique should really thank her for the favor; some might be surprised by how little she felt in the way of solidarity with Ravel, but Angelique was a member THRUSH, not the NOW. There was nothing wrong with removing the competition.
"I see. That must have been very interesting for a young lady like you, seeing so much of the world. What does your father do now? Has he retired?"
"No, actually he was killed on one of our trips together." She paused, dabbed at her eyes, "I'm sorry, it was years ago now, I should be... don't let me bring down the party."
"Not at all, my dear. It was tactless of me to ask." Angelique settled her hand lightly on the girl's shoulder, "I'm ever so sorry. Come, let's speak of happier things. For instance," she let a glint of mischief into her eyes as she gestured towards the photo, "who is this?"
The girl laughed and blushed slightly, "oh, just a friend. If you must know, he turned out to be a bit of a cad. We don't talk regularly anymore, and I'm sure he'd be cross if he knew I had it up, but I think it's one of my best pictures."
"Oh my girl, I know quite enough about men like that. All image," Angelique nodded toward the photo, "no substance. It's a shame he didn't appreciate you when he had the chance." She steered the girl towards an empty divan, "You're very talented, and I can already tell that you and I are going to be great friends."