agnes had tea with the countess every monday and thursday afternoon, in the countess’s little apartment on 88th street.
agnes could never gauge the countess’s moods, or tell if she had anything particular to say, until the countess had taken the first sips of her tea and opened her mouth to speak.
“i am disappointed in you, agnes, very disappointed,” the countess began, on this particular gray october afternoon.
“about what?” agnes replied after swallowing her small forkful of chocolate torte.
“about the progress of your claim against minerva, of course.”
“there are only three months to go until roselle can be pronounced dead. i thought we had agreed to wait until then before we made any moves.”
“we did agree. against my better judgment, but i did agree. however, something has come up.”
“oh?” agnes attempted to maintain her usual languid manner, but could not help sitting up a little straighter in her chair. “has there been some supposed sighting of roselle?”
“of course not. had there been, i would have summoned you at once, not waited until our regular tete-a-tete.”
agnes relaxed. “well, then?”
“take a look at this.” the countess produced a page of a newspaper from - somewhere. she had always had a knack for concealing items which she could suddenly produce “out of nowhere’.
the countess did not hand the newspaper to agnes but announced. “tomo found this.”
and at the sound of his name, tomo appeared out of the shadows, as he always did.
the countess gave the newspaper to tomo, who in turn handed it to agnes.
“the low plains gazette.” agnes read the banner of the paper. “what am i supposed to be looking at here?”
“the story on the lower left,” tomo told her. “family of slain man, and so forth.”
“ah.” agnes ran her eye over the paper. “continued on page 2.” she turned the single page over and read some more.
“and, that is it?” she asked when she was finished. she looked up at tomo, and them at the countess.
“that is all we know,” said the countess. “i wish to know more.”
“but it is all nonsense,” agnes replied. “and nothing to do with roselle.”
“no, not directly, but it could affect the whole gray empire.”
“pooh! this is nothing. stuff like this comes up every week. every day. simpson and simpson must have a press clipping service, they must have seen it, let them handle it.”
“i am sure they will - on minerva’s behalf,” the countess replied, with the slightest hint of annoyance. “i wish to be informed on our behalf.”
agnes shrugged. “you are the one who has the means to do that.”
“for reasons of my own, i wish you to handle it.”
“fine. any suggestions?”
“i have more than a suggestion. i wish you to contact minerva directly.”
“oh?”
“arrange a meeting. let her choose the place. when it has been arranged, let me know the time and place. tomo will be waiting for you outside and will bring you directly to me to report. i trust you to be able to question her with some discretion.”
“i trust myself to do it too.”
”good.”
agnes stuck her fork back into her chocolate torte. “it shall be done.”
the countess did not smile, but tomo did, ever so slightly.
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