by Mary Daheim
“No.” Judith couldn’t help it, but knew she sounded apologetic.
“Okay,” Rosemary said. “It wasn’t much, anyway. The body will be removed as soon as the ambulance arrives. It’s on its way now.”
“Good.” She smiled faintly at the trio. “Thanks for your help, guys.” An idea came to her. “Say—don’t you need somebody to sign off on the release of the body?”
“Not really,” Rosemary replied. “This is a law enforcement matter, given the possibility that Mrs. Kluger’s death might be linked to her husband’s. It’s all part of the official investigation.”
“Don’t you want to be on the safe side?” Judith asked—and winked.
“Ah…” Rosemary’s mouth curved into a pleasurable smile. “Yes, I see. Shall I ask Suzanne?”
“I’d ask Ms. Pearson, the maid,” Judith suggested. “If not a relative, she’s a longtime family employee.”
“Good idea,” Rosemary said, heading for Room Four. “I’ll request that when she comes downstairs.”
Judith had a feeling it might take a few minutes for the detective to deal with the maid. She excused herself to Tommy and Mitch before going into Room One.
Estelle’s quarters looked almost as if she hadn’t occupied the room. Her suitcase was open, but nothing had been put away. The bed was made—or never unmade if she hadn’t slept in it. Perhaps Estelle had kept an all-night vigil at Mrs. Kluger’s side.
Judith couldn’t resist. The suitcase was already open, after all. With one eye on the doorknob to see if it moved, she began a careful search through the contents: cotton underwear, tailored skirts and blouses, thigh-high nylon stockings, basic toiletries, a flannel nightgown, Deer-foam slippers, a well-worn chenille bathrobe. There was nothing of interest in the main section or the side pockets.
Judith noticed a zippered compartment on the outside of the suitcase. She wrestled briefly with her conscience. Curiosity won in a landslide.
Inside, she found a large dog-eared manila envelope. The guards on the small brass clasp had been worn away long ago. Judith opened the flap. And paused. Why am I doing this? I swore I wouldn’t sleuth.
But she couldn’t help it.
The envelope contained several items, including Estelle’s passport. Judith flipped through it quickly. The maid had been born in White Plains, New York; her current address was in Manhattan. During the past two years, she had visited the United Kingdom, France, Germany, Austria, and Italy. That made sense, if she’d accompanied Andrea Kluger when she went abroad with Dolph.
There was also a local city map, refolded to show the portion that included Heraldsgate Hill. Sure enough, an X had been marked for Hillside Manor. But a block and a half away, just off Heraldsgate Avenue, another address had been similarly noted. Judith knew at once what it was—the Empress Apartments. Why, she asked herself, would Estelle Pearson mark Olive Oglethorpe’s residence? Had she stayed with Olive until arriving at the B&B? It seemed strange, since Olive worked for Rudi and Estelle was employed by Andrea.
Hurriedly, Judith flipped through the rest of the envelope’s contents: the car-rental agreement made at the airport Wednesday morning; a return ticket to JFK, dated for the previous day; a notebook itemizing incidental expenses; and a checkbook.
Having gone this far down the road of privacy invasion, Judith couldn’t put herself into reverse. She opened the checkbook with the name of the New York bank embossed in gold letters on the faux-leather cover. It was a money-market account with blank checks and a handwritten register showing Estelle’s deposits and withdrawals. The current amount was three million seven hundred forty-six thousand dollars and sixteen cents. Withdrawals were infrequent and comparatively small. But regular deposits had been made on the second of each month and—at least for the past five months shown in the register—were in the amount of twenty thousand dollars.
“Maybe I should have been a maid instead of an innkeeper,” Judith murmured to herself. “I probably work harder than Estelle.”
Then it occurred to her that work might not describe what Estelle was doing. An uglier word came to mind—blackmail.
Hearing voices in the hall, Judith quickly put everything back in the envelope, slipped it into the outside pocket, and tugged the zipper closed. With any luck, Estelle would go straight downstairs. Room One was small, and the only place to hide was in the closet. Judith could never make it under the bed with her artificial hip.
“Some sleuth,” she muttered to herself, listening at the door. “Why am I doing this?”
Because you have to, came the answer. Because you’re you, and you can’t change at this stage of your life. You were brought up on fair play. You always seek justice. You can’t quit now.
Estelle’s muffled, angry voice faded in the stairwell. Judith crept out into the empty hall. Apparently, Tommy and Mitch had departed. The only other person left—except for the dead Andrea—was Suzanne.
Judith knocked at Room Four. There was no response. A chill crawled up her spine. Not another body. But she was being irrational, she told herself. That would make Estelle—or somebody—a mass murderer. Judith had gotten to the point where she suspected everybody and anybody.
“Suzanne?” she called, knocking again. Still there was no answer. With a heavy sigh, Judith opened the unlocked door.
Suzanne was sitting on the bed, her rigid back turned, her eyes fixed on the mirror over the old oak dresser that had belonged to Aunt Ellen before her marriage fifty years ago.
“Suzanne,” Judith repeated, but this time more quietly. “What can I do for you? I feel absolutely terrible about what’s happened.”
Suzanne didn’t speak. Judith wondered if she was in some kind of trance. Slowly, she approached the bed and stretched out her hand, brushing the young woman’s arm. Suzanne felt feverish.
“I think you should see a doctor,” Judith said. “You’re on the verge of an emotional and physical collapse.”
Suzanne didn’t move. Indeed, she scarcely blinked.
Reaching into the pocket of her slacks, Judith removed the bracelet. “Here,” she said softly. “You were right. This belongs to you. I’m sorry I hassled you.”
Suzanne still didn’t move, but her eyes shifted in the mirror image. She gasped as she saw the bracelet in Judith’s palm. Sucking in a deep breath, she sprang like a cat and snatched up the bauble with a fierce gesture, like an animal wresting raw meat from a rival predator.
Suzanne slipped the bracelet on her left wrist and turned it slowly. Her face softened and her body relaxed visibly. “Thank you,” she said in an almost humble voice.
A weary silence filled the room. Rain was running down the twin windows with their pale yellow voile curtains and daffodil-patterned valances. Usually, the room—like all of the guest quarters at Hillside Manor—seemed cheerful and comforting. But on this gloomy autumn afternoon Judith found the springlike motif false, even mocking.
Self-consciously, Judith cleared her throat. “You know,” she said, “I was in love with a man who belonged to someone else. Guess what? I still am—and after over twenty years of waiting, he belongs to me.”
Suzanne frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.”
Suzanne turned to look at Judith. “No. You don’t understand.”
“I know love when I see it,” Judith said softly.
“Oh, yes.” Suzanne’s mouth twisted, a bittersweet expression on her face. “But not the kind you think. Rudi is my brother.”
Judith was flabbergasted. And embarrassed. “Oh, dear! I’ve made a fool of myself. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Suzanne said doggedly. She seemed to have gotten control of her emotions, though Judith felt she was still in a fragile state. “Rudi’s wonderful. He’s so talented and so ambitious…he’s everything I’ve never been.”
Tactful questions eluded Judith. “I’m confused,” she admitted. “Was Blake Farrow Rudi’s father?”
“No.” Suzanne couldn’t look
at Judith. “His father was Dolph Kluger. Dolph was already married, you see, when my mother met him and fell in love with him. I suppose the police may find all this out. Not that it matters.”
“It matters to you,” Judith said. “That is, I sense that your family situation has been…difficult.”
“Define difficult,” Suzanne said with a faint spark in her eyes. “Some people would say I had a wonderful family. We were well-off, respected.” She bit her lip. “Still, I’ve always felt like a freak.”
“You’re not a freak,” Judith asserted. “But I think you’re lonely and unfulfilled in many ways.”
Suzanne’s gaze locked with Judith’s. “You’re very observant. That’s why I was so glad to finally find Rudi, but it didn’t happen until after Mom married Dolph.”
“Did you know Rudi existed?”
“Not really.” Suzanne sighed, and again looked at Judith. “I sensed there was something—or somebody—in her past that she was hiding. There were strange phone messages and letters and things like that. Then Rudi came back from Europe—he’d studied over there for a while under one of Dolph’s colleagues—and I happened to meet him at a charity benefit for the New York Philharmonic. I looked into his eyes. They’re so blue, you know. And I felt something come over me. Not physical attraction, but some sort of bond, as if I’d always known him.”
“Of course,” Judith murmured. “His eyes are very like your mother’s.”
“Yes.” Suzanne turned the bracelet on her wrist. “Rudi knew. That is, Dolph had told him that he—Rudi—wasn’t Dolph’s only illegitimate child. In fact, Dolph bragged about it. I honestly think he felt he was doing the world a favor by begetting children who might inherit his musical abilities.”
“But Dolph didn’t play, did he?”
“Oh, he played several instruments,” Suzanne said. “But he didn’t have the talent to become a professional. Instead, he had the ear—and the ability to drive other people to become successful.”
“That’s a talent, too,” Judith said. “I gather you and Rudi became close after your first meeting. How did your mother take that?”
“Mom was very upset,” Suzanne replied. “I was twenty-five at the time. I wondered why they hadn’t legally adopted Rudi after they got married, since he was Dolph’s son. But Rudi was too old, and making a name for himself. He’d chosen Wittener because it was Dolph’s mother’s maiden name. Furthermore, Rudi didn’t want that kind of publicity. People who serve on symphony boards can be very conservative.”
“Did your father, Blake Farrow, know about Rudi?” Judith asked.
Suzanne looked sad. “No. Mom met Dolph in Europe when she was still a teenager. She came back to Connecticut, where she’d been raised, and went to live with an aunt who had a summer home in Maine. She had Rudi there and put him out for private adoption. Somehow, she erased him from her life. Even later, there was no bond between Mom and Rudi. Anyway, a couple named Brown had adopted him, but they died in a car accident when he was fifteen. Rudi had been a child prodigy, but the Browns weren’t musical. Mom knew about the family, and contacted Dolph, who took over Rudi and his career. That was when Rudi changed his name. He felt Rudi Brown wouldn’t cut much of a swath in musical circles. But Mom still kept her distance from Rudi. Maybe she considered him as excess baggage, a huge mistake from her past. Mom hated mistakes.”
“Was your mother talented?” Judith asked.
Suzanne laughed sadly. “That was ironic. She was tone-deaf.”
“Suzanne,” Judith said as gently as possible, “what happened to your mother?”
Suzanne’s face crumpled, but she didn’t cry. “A broken heart. Truly. She couldn’t live without Dolph. He was her only real love.”
Judith knew of husbands and wives who had died within months, weeks, even days of each other. But they were usually elderly. Andrea Kluger had been no more than sixty. Still, she had loved Dolph since she was a teenager. First loves could be lasting loves.
“Was she in good health?” Judith inquired.
“I think so.” Suzanne looked out toward the nearest window. “She wouldn’t eat much and she had trouble sleeping after Dolph died. But then Mom always was a poor sleeper. And she wasn’t really into food.”
A noise in the hall startled both Judith and Suzanne. “I’d better see what’s going on. You stay here,” Judith urged. “I’ll be right back.”
Renie was standing outside of Room Three. The door was open.
“Ambulance guys,” Renie said. “They’re taking Andrea away. How’s Suzanne?”
“Talkative,” Judith said in a low voice. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Arlene came back.” Renie frowned. “Nobody was home at the Wittener house. Arlene did everything but break and enter.”
“Where’s Arlene now?” Judith asked, avoiding the morbid activity that was going on inside the guest room.
“She went home,” Renie replied. “Carl told her some of their kids were coming for dinner.”
“Let’s move,” Judith said. “I don’t need to see another body wheeled out of here.”
The cousins slipped into the narrow hallway that led to the smallest of the guest rooms, Room Two. Judith took the opportunity to tell Renie what Suzanne had disclosed.
“My poor brain!” Renie exclaimed. “I can’t keep track of this crazy crew! Rudi and Suzanne are half siblings? Andrea’s second husband is really Rudi’s father? That’s nuts!”
Judith kept a straight face. “Is it?”
“Oops.” Renie looked sheepish. “Sorry, coz. Frankly, I tend to forget Dan ever existed. It’s like you were always married to Joe.”
“Funny,” Judith said in a musing tone, “I don’t feel that way.” She glanced around the corner toward the open hallway. The ambulance men were wheeling a covered gurney out of Room Three. Judith held her breath, hoping that Suzanne hadn’t realized what was happening.
The gurney disappeared from view, presumably down the stairs. The cousins headed out through the narrow passageway.
To their surprise, Suzanne was in the hall by her room. “She’s really dead, isn’t she?” the young woman said in an awed voice.
“Yes,” Judith said, puzzled. “I’m so sorry.”
Suzanne’s mouth curved into a wide smile. “I’m not. I’m free!” She twirled around in a circle. “Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last!”
NINETEEN
JUDITH WAS ASTONISHED by Suzanne’s jubilation. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked as the young woman waved her fists in triumph.
“Yes!” Suzanne laughed out loud. “Yes! Yes!” Abruptly, she composed herself and looked at Renie. “Are you the one with the black Coach handbag?”
Renie stared. “I am,” she said after a pause.
“Now I can pay you back,” Suzanne said excitedly. “I apologize for any inconvenience.”
Renie exploded, her hands shaped like claws that would rip out Suzanne’s throat. “Where are my credit cards? Give me my money now!”
“Please!” Suzanne held her own hands in front of her face to ward off Renie. “I need time. I didn’t spend that much. Your credit cards were no good. I tossed them all in a Dumpster.”
Renie’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “I’ll hound you every ten minutes until I get my money. Isn’t there any cash in your mother’s purse? She’s dead, she won’t care.”
“Coz!” Judith cried as she saw Suzanne’s face start to crumple. “Don’t be so crass!”
“Crass, my—” Renie stopped. “Okay, okay. I can wait—but not for long. I’m really pissed.”
“We’ve noticed,” Judith said. “I don’t blame you. But consider the situation.”
“Yeah, right,” Renie grumbled. “As they say in the army, ‘SNAFU—Situation Normal, All F—’”
“Stop!” Judith’s own temper was about to burst. “Hear Suzanne out.”
Suzanne waited a moment until Renie unfurled her fingers and stepped back a pace or two. “You see,” Suzanne
said, her features becoming animated again and her eyes shining, “I inherit everything. Until now, my money was all tied up in a trust.” She hugged herself. “Oh, happy day!” She twirled some more.
“For you,” Renie muttered.
Estelle came pounding up the stairs. “What’s this? What’s this? Miss Suzanne!” The maid grabbed the younger woman by the upper arms and shook her. “Calm down! Do you hear me? Stop it!”
“No!” Suzanne wrenched free and pushed Estelle into the wall by one of the linen closets. “Go away! You’re fired!”
“Holy Mother,” Renie muttered. “Where’s Rosemary? We need handcuffs!”
Suzanne danced off down the hallway, heading for the back stairs. “I’m going to New York! I’m going to buy a gym!”
Rubbing her shoulder, Estelle regained her balance. “What’s wrong with that girl? She’s lost her mind!”
“Maybe she’s in shock,” Judith said. “I’m going downstairs.” She stopped, halfway down the hall. “Where is Rosemary?”
“The detective person?” Estelle had clambered to her feet and was straightening her tailored skirt. “She left with…the body.”
“Oh.” Judith continued down the hall.
Renie was right behind her. “What’s Suzanne going to do? She can’t try to use my maxed-out credit cards to make a plane reservation because she claims she tossed them.”
“She must already have a return ticket,” Judith said as they started down the back stairs. “The airline can make changes when there’s a death in the family.”
“How about two?” Renie said. “Why not go for three? Maybe the airlines give you bonus miles for that.”
On the next to last step, Judith stopped, holding out a hand to keep Renie from bumping into her. “Listen,” she whispered. “Suzanne’s on the phone.”
“Fritz!” she said excitedly. “It’s me, Suzanne. Mom’s dead. We can get married!”
“Ohmigod!” Renie exclaimed softly. “Fritz?”
Judith nudged her cousin to keep quiet.
“Here, back there,” Suzanne said. “I don’t care. We could get married in Syria, as long as we’re together.” She was silent for a moment, obviously listening to Fritz. “Then don’t tell your mother,” Suzanne urged, sounding faintly irritated. “Just because she’s a failure doesn’t mean you have to spend your life coddling her. Meet me at the airport. I’ll let you know what time our flight will be when I find out.”