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19
Judith Chambers’sapartment was in a prewar building on Central Park West. Nina was met by the doorman, who’d taken her to a desk where they checked her name against a list before leading her to an elevator and using a code to send her to the twelfthfloor.
She’d exited into a roomy entry with parquet floors and crown molding. A round table that looked like an antique stood under an understated chandelier. Bright pink peonies sprang in a thick bouquet from a crystal vase at the table’scenter.
Judith had greeted her warmly and led her into a surprisingly cozy living room with high ceilings and a view of the park. Unlike Jack’s modern penthouse where the layout was open and airy, the rooms in Judith’s apartment were smaller and more distinct, the living room clearly separate from the kitchen where Judith disappeared to retrieve theirlunch.
Nina wasn’t fooled. The place might be traditional, but an apartment this size was still worth millions on Central ParkWest.
She looked around while Judith was gone, taking in the ornate sofa and overstuffed chairs, the grand piano at one end of the room, the books lining built-in shelves along one wall. There were a couple of paintings adorning the walls — impressionist landscapes — but they were otherwise surprisinglybare.
She thought about the article she’d read detailing Judith’s decision to liquidate her late husband’s art collection. Had she done it for the money? By all accounts Judith was still flush with wealth. The decision seemed a more mysterious one thanthat.
“Here we are.” Judith entered the living room bearing atray.
She appeared frailer than she had at the park, although it might have been the caftan she wore in place of the coat or the bright sunlight making its way through the apartment’s big windows. She was still beautifully turned out, her makeup applied to perfection, expensive jewelry twinkling on her wrists and fingers, but this time Nina was very aware of her advancedage.
“You’re sure you won’t let me help with anything?” Ninaasked.
“Of course,” Judith said. “I so rarely have guests. You must allow me to have my fun playinghostess.”
Nina smiled. “Well, since you put it thatway.”
“I wasn’t sure if you took your tea with lemon or milk.” Judith set the tray on the coffee table and began removing items from its surface — two diminutive plates, a platter of tiny sandwiches with the crusts cut off, a bowl of strawberries, a silver teapot and two cups with saucers, containers of cream and sugar, a plate with slicedlemon.
“Either is fine,” Nina said. “It’ll be nice to have tea for a change. I probably drink too muchcoffee.”
“I can hardly blame you. There are few things as enjoyable as a rich, dark cup of black coffee.” Judith took a seat at the other end of the sofa. “Unfortunately, I can only have one cup in the morning these days. I simply can’t sleep at nightotherwise.”
“I’ve noticed that I’m more sensitive to it than I was when I was younger.” Nina laughed. “I should probably start transitioning to teanow.”
Judith poured tea into the cups and handed one to Nina. “In my experience, it’s far preferable to let age chase you rather than chasingit.”
“You have a point.” Nina looked around the room. “Your home is solovely.”
“It’s old-fashioned, I’m sure, but I quite like it.” Judith picked up one of the empty plates and placed a sandwich triangle on it, then added a couple of strawberries. No wonder she was so tiny: Nina could have devoured every scrap of food on the coffee table and still been ready for a four course meal. “After my husband passed I found I craved space. I considered renovating but sold half of our possessions instead, although I imagine you already knowthat.”
“I won’t deny that I looked you up after our meeting in the park,” Nina said. “I’m sorry if it was anintrusion.”
“Not at all. I may be ancient, but I know how the internet works, and I understand the desire for information. It’s one I share.” Judith took a dainty bite of her sandwich and finished chewing before speaking again. “Although I imagine you know that words on a screen are only part of thestory.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Nina asked with asmile.
“You’re not here to ask about thephotos?”
Nina put two of the sandwiches on her plate. “I won’t deny that I’d still love to show them, but if I’m being honest, I’m more interested inyou.”
“Inme?”
Nina nodded. “I felt the missing part of your story in the articles I found. They were… flat, especially since I had our meeting in the park as acontrast.”
Judith’s eyes sparkled. “I take it you didn’t find me flatthen?”
“The opposite of flat.” The photos were the catalyst for Nina’s interest in Judith Chambers. Their conversation in the park had piqued her interest, and her research on the internet had elevated Judith to a mystery Nina was dying tosolve.
“I always assume the city’s young people see me as yet another relic of a New York long past, of a world passing even as wespeak.”
“I didn’t see you that way at all,” Nina said. “Even before I learned you were a pinup model in the50s.”
