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I nodded. “Well, I was hired by Ms. Sophia Erepto for a rather, how shall we say, sensitive matter. And you two look like you’ve got a real bead on everything that goes on around here.”
“Quite right, quite right,” Opera Glasses tutted. “About time someone recognized it.”
“A sensitive matter?” The ghost with the towering pile of curls gave me a sly look. “Whatever could that be, my dear?”
I shook my head, still smiling. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Ma’am. Nothing would get past you. I bet you know everything that goes on in this place.”
“No one listens to us.” Opera glasses shook her head.
“What could we possibly know?”
“That’s the youth of the day,” Opera Glasses said with a little too much vindictive pleasure. “No respect for their elders. Can’t tell them anything.”
I tilted my head to one side and batted my doe eyes, trying to play it up. I might be square into forty, but other than a few lines around my eyes and mouth, I still had the stuff. “I’d really appreciate any help or advice you could give me. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble,” said Hair Tower.
“No trouble at all,” agreed Opera Glasses.
Hair Tower glanced around, like she was worried we’d be overheard. “Sophia is trying to take control of the family, the dear girl.”
“She’s a cutthroat, that one. Vicious,” said Opera Glasses.
“That she is, that she is,” Hair Tower agreed.
“A real blessing to the family,” Opera Glasses continued.
I didn’t let my smile fall, but it might have gotten a little strained around the edges.
“But Manos, the dear boy, he’s been angling for clan head since before Magda was even sick. If she hadn’t been so powerful, he might have tried to topple her off the throne himself.” Hair Tower shook her head. “That’s the youth today for you.”
Opera Glasses heaved a sigh. “No patience.”
“And now the idol is missing,” Hair Tower said with more relish than was strictly comfortable. “And no one can take over.”
“Oh, my.” Opera Glasses tittered behind her hand like a little, nervous girl. “It’s going to be a disaster.”
I jumped in before the conversation went stampeding off again. “That’s what I’m looking for. Do you know who has the idol, or where it might have been placed?”
“Oh my, deary, not us.” Hair Tower smiled, and the expression had a few too many teeth for comfort. “We’re just a pair of dotty old ladies. What could we know?”
Opera Glasses tapped one finger to her pursed lips. “Though, if I cared about such things, I might go and speak to Clarice. She’s usually in Magda’s wing. She might have seen something.”
“Clarice. And who is that, exactly?” I wanted to trust them, but they seemed to be taking a little too much glee in helping me. And that was usually a bad sign.
“She was a maid here, once, dear. Never moved on, the poor thing. But she sticks to the oldest wing. That way.” Opera Glasses pointed down the hallway. “Take a left at the main intersection. Look for the draperies on everything, you can’t miss them. It’s depressing.”
“Probably best if the idol is found. We don’t want another civil war on our hands.” Hair Tower sighed, brushing non-existent dust off her dress. “Could get crowded around here.”
I looked between them, warily. “Is… is that what happened to you?”
Opera Glasses shrugged. “Technically, it was a coup.”
“Can’t blame her, really,” Hair Tower said on a shrug. “She needed to consolidate power quickly, and she had more support among the younger set.”
“Too right,” agreed Opera Glasses. “I would have done the same thing myself.”
Okay, I needed to skedaddle and find that idol, because it sounded like if I didn’t, there were worse things coming than me probably losing my job.
