She looks distinctly uncomfortable. Instead of saying so, she just gives me an awkward smile and starts moving through the room, dusting with a feathered brush.
“Can I ask you something, Lida?”
“Of course, ma’am.” She seems unsure of whether she should look at me when she speaks or not.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Almost six years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It was my first job. I never expected to be here so long. But it pays well and I actually enjoy it.” She flushes with color. “I mean… not that I didn’t expect to.”
I give her a reassuring smile. “It’s good that you’re happy here. I was just wondering… you must have known Don Anton’s ex-wife?”
Lida tenses immediately. “Yes, I knew her.”
“What was she like?”
Lida chews nervously on her lip as she busies herself picking things up and dusting around them. Almost like she wishes she could sweep this question under the rug, too.
I’m about to apologize for putting her on the spot when she starts talking. “I kept my distance,” she says in a soft voice. “I saw her with the other maids. I didn’t want to get on her bad side.”
“She was that bad?”
“She was scary,” Lida admits. “There was something about her… Well, sometimes, it seemed like she had two personalities. She could be sweet and welcoming one moment. But in the next second, she turned dark. Bad things happened when she turned dark.”
A shiver runs down my spine. Of course I understand that—I experienced it first-hand.
“Were you ever in the room when that happened?” I press.
“Only once,” Lida admits. “Don Anton was hosting a cocktail party. Ms. Marina came down in the most gorgeous dress I’d ever seen. It looked like it was made of pearls. She was stunning, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so. She charmed the entire room. She was just so vibrant and lovely.”
“And something changed?” I guess.
She nods. “There was this other girl there. She was young, probably nineteen or twenty. One of the other dons’ daughters. She kept looking at Don Anton.”
“Oh no.”
Lida nods, and I get the feeling she’s suppressed this conversation for so long that it took only the slightest little push to get her to talk.
“I saw her hug the girl goodbye,” Lida tells me. “I saw her face when she did it. Her smile dropped away and she looked…”
“Murderous?”
Lida nods. “Sometimes, the expression on her face still haunts my dreams.”
“I believe you,” I say. “At least that girl got away easy.”
Lida frowns, and I know instantly there’s more to the story. “I heard through the grapevine that the girl fell ill right after the cocktail party. Apparently, she suffered some sort of stroke.”
“What?”
Lida nods. “I can’t be sure it was her—”
“It was her,” I say instantly.
Lida shudders. “I did think I saw her slip something into the girl’s drink before she left. I’ve always convinced myself it was just a hallucination, that I saw wrong. But deep down, I know that isn’t true.”