In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

Signora sustained a cheerful banter. On the Turner prize,
"Maybe we should turn one of our empty rooms on and off! Ula?
Sandro? Which room?" About the new director of the Alvin Ailey
troupe, "Ailey's 'Revelations' are as good as Balanchine or Graham,
don't you think? But then you are not so fond of Balanchine, Sandro.
Graham's histrionics are an inspiration, but not the bare feet, eh, Ula?"
"Balanchine was a Nazi."
"I believe he was Russian. As you must know, Ula, the Russians
and the Nazis were enemies."
"Not that kind of Nazi," Ula sneered.
"You are not so fond of discipline, are you?"
Ula rolled her eyes and stabbed a pea.
Signora forged on about the mysterious disappearance of
Gerhard Finkenbeiner, genius inventor and manufacturer of the
modern quartz crystal glass harmonica. There had been an article in the
culture section of the paper about it.
"Have you ever composed for glass harmonica, Penny? You
know, they thought the vibrations were driving people mad! Progress,
first mad, then dead. What do you think about this, Penny? More peas?
I must insist that you do not endanger members of my household
during your stay. Peas, anyone?"
And she offered second rounds to every one, even though that
was the maid's job. That would keep them busy.
After coffee and pastel mints, they moved to the salon for
"conversation." Alessandro walked over to the bar, a baroque marble
table crowded with bottles and glasses, and poured himself a Black
Label. Ula's mask flickered momentarily when he raised his tumbler to
see if any one else was game. He downed it in one gulp and
immediately poured himself another. And another.
The stack of X rays was in the empty chair, reserved for the
guest of honor, the silent witness, the skeleton in the closet, the ghost
in the machine. Its flesh was fast getting drunk at the bar.
"Basta!" The signora ordered without turning around. "Sederti!"
She pointed a pearly talon. Alessandro stumbled into his designated
seat between Ula and the X rays and sat there as composed and regal as
a pharaoh.
"Ula, do tell us about Ng Van Hung."
Silence.
"He is your lover?"
Silence.
134