by Mary Daheim
“I was wondering if Suzanne should go look for him,” Andrea said. “The problem is, we wouldn’t know where to search.”
The schoolhouse clock showed that it was nine-thirty. The phone rang. Judith excused herself and grabbed the receiver from the counter.
“Judith?” said the voice at the other end. “This is Miko Swanson.”
Miko was a Japanese-born widow who lived in the corner house next to Rudi Wittener. Judith realized that she was the only neighbor in the cul-de-sac who hadn’t come outside when the emergency vehicles converged at Hillside Manor. Miko was elderly, but still spry.
“Are you all right?” Judith asked.
“Yes, yes, I am fine,” Miko replied, though she didn’t sound quite like her usual composed self. “But I’m very worried.”
“About what? The fire engine and medics who were here earlier?”
“No, no. It’s the man on the sidewalk.”
Judith’s grip tightened on the receiver. She turned away from Andrea and moved toward the hallway. “What man?” she asked softly.
“I think he fell,” Miko said. “But he’s not getting up. Could you or Mr. Flynn come?”
“Of course. We’ll be right there. Maybe you should call 911.”
There was a pause at the other end. “I don’t want to cause a fuss,” Miko finally said. “So often, older ladies make a nuisance of themselves. I wouldn’t want them to think I’m an alarmist.”
“This is different,” Judith asserted. “This isn’t you with an imaginary problem.”
“That’s so. But I’ll wait until you get here.”
Judith hung up. “I have to help an elderly neighbor,” she said to Andrea, though she didn’t look her guest in the eye. “I shouldn’t be gone long. The front door is unlocked until ten. Did Dolph take his key?”
“I’m not sure. If he’s not back by then…” Andrea raised her hands in a helpless gesture.
Judith was in the hallway, putting on her jacket. “I’m sure he will be,” she said, keeping the anxiety out of her voice. “Why don’t you and Suzanne have a drink?”
“No. I’ll just watch by the window in the front door.”
“Okay.” Judith considered getting Joe, but didn’t want to waste time. She took her cell phone out of her purse and left the house.
Except for the streetlamps, the cul-de-sac was dark. Judith walked as fast as her artificial hip would permit, keeping to the curving sidewalk. As she turned the corner she saw Miko Swanson’s diminutive figure on her front porch. Judith also saw what looked like a big heap of clothing on the pavement.
She froze.
“Judith?” Miko called softly.
“Yes.” The word came out on a gulp.
“Is he all right?” Miko asked in a worried voice.
Judith gathered her courage. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, stepping closer.
As she had feared—almost expected—it was Dolph Kluger, his big body in the big raincoat sprawled across the sidewalk. He wasn’t moving; he didn’t seem to be breathing. Judith wished she had a flashlight.
Cautiously bending down, she studied Dolph’s profile. He looked as if he were in severe distress—or had been. With trembling fingers, she felt for a pulse. The second time in one evening, she thought, a record even for Judith.
This time, the result was far more distressing. She could find no sign of life, no flicker of pulse, no tick-tock from the heart. This clock had stopped. Judith said a silent prayer for the dead man.
Straightening, she fumbled for the cell phone in her jacket and called 911. She had to look up at Miko’s porch to make sure of the address. The old lady was starting down the stairs. Judith waved for her to go back.
“I’m afraid he’s…dead,” Judith said after she clicked the cell off. “You’d better go back inside.”
But Miko stayed on the second step. “Who is it? Not one of our neighbors, I hope!”
“No,” Judith replied. “He’s…a guest at my B&B.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Swanson didn’t seem surprised. “That’s a shame.”
A car passed on the through street, but the driver didn’t slow down, apparently not noticing anything other than two neighbors chatting. The large maple tree in the parking strip helped conceal the women—and Judith thought with a pang, the latest corpse.
“He—Mr. Kluger—mentioned some kind of heart trouble,” Judith said. “Would you mind calling Mr. Wittener? He knows this poor man.”
“The violinist?” Mrs. Swanson shuddered, seemingly more disturbed by Rudi’s music making than the sight of a dead body on her sidewalk. “Oh, my. I’m afraid I’m not very friendly with Mr. Wittener.”
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Again. Judith sighed. “Maybe Rudi or Taryn will come outside when they hear the emergency personnel arrive.”
Mrs. Swanson gestured at Dolph’s body. “Were they here earlier for this man?”
“Uh…no. One of the other guests had a fainting spell. It wasn’t serious. In fact,” Judith went on, “it was Mr. Wittener’s former wife. The group had a little party at my—”
She stopped speaking as Suzanne Farrow came racing around the corner. “What’s going on? Mom heard more sirens. Is it Dolph?” She saw the body and answered her own question. “Oh my God!”
Andrea Kluger had emerged from the cul-de-sac. “Suzanne?”
Suzanne turned quickly to her mother. “Stop! Don’t look!”
“Nonsense!” Andrea snapped, pushing past her daughter. Then she saw Dolph, too, and screamed.
Suzanne was strong, but not strong enough to stop her mother from rushing to Dolph’s crumpled form. “Dolph!” she shrieked. “Dolph! Say something!”
Judith put a light hand on Andrea’s shoulder. “I’m afraid he can’t,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Kluger.”
The emergency vehicles were pulling up—the fire engine stopping across the street, the medics finding space at the curb in front of Mrs. Swanson’s house, the ambulance parking at the cul-de-sac entrance.
Andrea didn’t look up. She kept shaking Dolph and calling his name. Suzanne stood on the sidewalk, holding her head in one hand and clutching at her Nike warm-up jacket with the other.
Judith saw Medic Santos approaching with his kit. “I don’t think you can help this one,” she murmured.
Santos gave her a solemn look before he and his partner bent over the body. One of the firefighters gently tugged at Andrea. “Ma’am?” he said. “Please, could you move away?”
Andrea refused to budge. Suzanne came to her mother’s side, begging her to get up.
“Dolph!” Andrea wailed. “Dolph!”
“Ma’am!” the firefighter shouted at the bereaved woman. “Please!” His face was illuminated by the flashing lights. Judith recognized him by his rust-colored mustache. It was Conley, the battalion chief who had spoken to her at the B&B. “You must come away now,” Conley ordered. “They have to do their job.”
At last, Suzanne was able to pry her mother loose. “Let’s go back inside. It feels damp out here. That silk robe won’t keep you warm.”
“I’ll never be warm again!” Andrea cried, leaning against her daughter. “Two husbands dead! I’m a jinx!”
“Two?” Conley looked at Judith. His expression was puckish as he lowered his voice. “You got the other one in your B&B?”
“That’s not funny,” Judith retorted just as Joe appeared. “Mrs. Kluger was widowed before she married this one,” she added, moving away from the firefighter.
“What’ve we got?” Joe asked in his most professional manner.
Somehow, he must have conveyed his status as a law enforcement officer. Conley seemed to snap to attention. “Deceased male, sixty-five, seventy, possible heart attack. You’re the other half of the B&B…sir?”
Joe shot Judith a wary glance. “I’m Joe Flynn, retired police detective. Yes, I live at Hillside Manor with my wife. You were here earlier, right?”
Conley nodded. “I’m afraid you
ran out of luck with this one…sir.”
“So it seems.” Joe rubbed the back of his head as he gazed down at Dolph. “I don’t believe I met this particular guest.” He gave Judith a baleful glance. “You’ll have to interrogate Mrs. Flynn for details.”
Judith thought Joe looked as if he wished Conley would turn the fire hoses on her. She turned away, ignoring the other neighbors who had come not just from the cul-de-sac, but the houses that lined the east-west thoroughfare. She had no desire to answer questions from anybody at the moment, including the emergency personnel.
Instead, she approached Andrea and Suzanne, who were still standing at the corner. “How can I help?” she inquired.
Andrea kept her head down. It was Suzanne who answered. “Mom wants to know what’s going to happen. Wherever they take my stepfather, she wants to go along.”
Judith winced. “Probably,” she said quietly, “to the morgue. It would be easier if you formally identified your stepfather now. The morgue isn’t a very pleasant place. Further arrangements can be made from Hillside Manor when…you’re both ready.”
Andrea’s head jerked up. “I’m going with Dolph.”
Suzanne looked at Judith. “You can’t change her mind. I never can,” she added in a pitiful whisper.
Judith frowned. Andrea Kluger was used to having her own way. That had been apparent from the first phone call to Hillside Manor. “She’d better change,” Judith said, speaking as if Andrea wasn’t there. Which, in a sense, she wasn’t. Judith realized that the Widow Kluger was still with Dolph. “I should tell Rudi and Taryn what’s happened.”
Judith moved down the cul-de-sac without looking back. She’d glimpsed a patrol car—the patrol car—approaching from the south face of Heraldsgate Hill. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to the cops. Judith would let Joe handle his former colleagues.
The Wittener doorbell chimed, grating further on Judith’s nerves. As renters, Rudi and Taryn apparently hadn’t had the nerve to change the bell’s sound, which was Herself’s version of “How Dry I Am.”
After a few moments, Taryn appeared at the door. She was still wearing the ecru peasant blouse she’d had on for the cocktail party. “Oh, hello,” Taryn said in a whisper. “Is something happening in the street?”
“I’m afraid so,” Judith replied. “May I come in?”
Taryn made a face. “Ah…no. Rudi’s gone to bed. He has a rehearsal tomorrow. I don’t dare disturb him. I hope those sirens didn’t wake him up. He’s only been in bed for half an hour. It often takes a while for him to settle down.”
Judith felt awkward, but she had no choice except to blurt out the facts. “Mr. Kluger has died.”
“Oh!” Taryn cried, and swiftly put a hand over her mouth. “How?” The question was again a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Judith answered, making sure she kept her voice down. “Maybe it was a heart attack. You will let Rudi know, won’t you?”
“I—” Taryn stopped, her hands rubbing up and down her hips. “Not tonight. He’d be so upset. He worshiped Dolph. Oh, dear! And to think he was here less than half an hour ago!”
“Here?” Judith’s gesture took in the house.
“Yes. He stopped by about nine, or a little after.” Taryn paused. “Rudi didn’t go to the hospital with Elsa and Fritz after all. Elsa told Rudi it wasn’t necessary—they were making too much of a fuss over her.” Taryn paused again, frowning. “Now that I remember, when Dolph was here, I didn’t think he seemed like himself. At the time I supposed it was because he was upset about Elsa.”
“He was fond of Elsa?”
Taryn was starting to back away. “They’d known each other for years, when Rudi and Elsa were together. In fact, Elsa was Dolph’s pupil at one time. I must go.” She closed the door quietly but firmly.
Judith descended the three steps from the porch, gazing out into the street. The medics were packing up, preparing to leave. So were the firefighters, although Arlene seemed to have cornered Conley. Judith hurried toward the B&B, noticing Carl standing on his porch.
“One of yours?” he called out.
Judith paused. “Yes. A Mr. Kluger.”
Carl merely nodded. Unlike his wife, he wasn’t one to pry.
Judith felt like a jinx. That’s what Andrea had called herself. She’s not the only one, Judith thought, going inside. She doesn’t know the half of it.
The Kasakis entered the house just after Judith had hung her jacket in the hallway. She went out to meet them, expecting a deluge of questions. But they smiled cheerfully, informed her they’d had a wonderful dinner with a fine view of the bay, and wished her good night. Maybe, Judith thought gratefully, the Japanese didn’t pry, either.
Joe returned five minutes later. “Hey,” he said, looking sheepish, “sorry I was a jerk.” He kissed her temple. “I always expect the worst.”
Judith was too tired to wrangle. “Forget it,” she replied, leaning against him. “Frankly, I don’t blame you. For some reason, I was on edge all evening. But at least Dolph wasn’t murdered.”
“That’s right,” Joe said, nuzzling her neck. “The medics thought it was a heart attack. They ought to know. Let’s go to bed.”
Judith hesitated. “I feel as if I should stay up until Mrs. Kluger and her daughter get back.”
“They’re together, they’ll be fine. You look beat.”
“I am,” Judith admitted, then ran her finger along Joe’s jawline. “But not too beat.”
Joe grinned, the gold flecks dancing in his eyes. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Arm in arm, they headed for the back stairs.
Thursday morning was cloudy, though the weather forecast promised that the sun would break through by midday. The Theobalds, who had to catch a late-morning flight, came down for breakfast at eight o’clock. The Kasakis arrived a few minutes later, but apparently the Blisses were sleeping in. Around nine-thirty, Judith heard Suzanne thumping in her room, no doubt determined to keep to her exercise routine no matter what tragedy befell the family.
Judith was waving off the Theobalds when Joe came into the entry hall and kissed her cheek. “I’m off,” he said.
“Off? To where?” He was dressed in his oldest clothes, a flannel shirt and faded jeans that were just a trifle snug around the midsection.
“I’m not doing real work today, remember?” Joe replied. “Bill needs some help with the plumbing under their kitchen sink. You know he’s not exactly a handyman.”
“True.” Renie’s husband was brilliant when it came to intellect, but just looking at a wrench gave him an anxiety attack. On the other hand, Joe wasn’t much of a repairman, either. “Why didn’t Bill call Carl? Carl’s good at that sort of thing.”
Joe scowled. “And I’m not?”
“Well…you’re not very patient when things don’t go right.”
“Hey,” he said, heading out the back way, “Bill and I work as a team. We’ll be fine.”
If, Judith thought, Joe and Bill were a team, the score could end up Sink 48, Husbands 6. With season-ending injuries. But she smiled and wished him luck.
Suzanne entered the dining room just as the Kasakis finished breakfast. “Coffee and a bran muffin for me,” she said. “Yogurt, if you have it.”
Judith had yogurt in a half-dozen varieties, but only blueberry muffins. She apologized.
Suzanne shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to make do. By the way, I called the morgue this morning. They say we’ll have to have an autopsy. I don’t like that.”
“I don’t blame you,” Judith replied. “Does your mother know?”
“Yes.” Suzanne bit her lip. “She’s all for it. She insists Dolph never had any heart problems. He thought he did, but the doctors never confirmed it. Frankly, my stepfather was something of a hypochondriac.”
“He seemed like a man who enjoyed life,” Judith remarked, realizing that Suzanne seemed very loquacious this morning. Maybe Dolph had somehow kept her tongue-tied.
“Very
much,” Suzanne replied, studying the varieties of yogurt Judith kept in the refrigerator. “I’ll have the blackberry, please. Yes,” she continued, “Dolph had a great appetite for life. That’s probably what brought on the heart attack. Often there’s no warning. I own a health club, and I coaxed him to exercise there, but he wouldn’t do it. He insisted the only muscle he needed to exercise was his brain.”
To Judith’s surprise, Suzanne sat down at the kitchen table instead of in the dining room. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable out there?” Judith inquired, pointing to the swinging half doors that led to the guests’ eating area.
Suzanne shook her head. “I’m fine right here. I was raised with too much formality. Even breakfast was served in the family dining room. I have my own place now. I can eat on the floor if I want to.”
“You were brought up in New York?” Judith asked, pouring coffee for Suzanne and for herself.
“No,” Suzanne replied. “Not in the city, I mean. Our home was in Great Neck on Long Island. A brick Tudor with eighteen rooms for the three of us. Even as a kid, I thought it was wasteful. Why did we need that much space? In China, twenty people squeeze into boxes smaller than one of our garages. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Is that where your mother and stepfather still live?” Judith asked, sitting down across from her guest.
“Not anymore,” Suzanne said. “Mom sold the house after Dad was killed. I was in high school by then, but I boarded. She moved into a Manhattan co-op, but she never liked it. The fact is, Mom didn’t like living alone. When she married Dolph, they bought a brownstone not far from Central Park. It’s nice, two stories, but I prefer my little place in the Village. My health club’s only two blocks away.”
“Very convenient,” Judith noted. “How long were your mother and Dolph married?”
“Almost ten years,” Suzanne replied, scrutinizing the blueberry muffin Judith had put on a plate. “Is this low-fat?”