Chorus Lines, Caviar, and Corpses (A Happy Hoofers Mystery)

by Mary McHugh

  “Right,” Mary Louise said, patting the cow’s head. “But who’d expect to see them in Moscow in this elegant mall?”

  “I never know what to expect in this country,” I said, clicking my heels on the tiled floor. “What do you say we tap around this blue and white polka-dot cow?”

  “Tina!” Mary Louise said, looking around in alarm. “The KGB, or whatever it’s called now, will drag us off to prison.”

  “I don’t think they arrest you for tap dancing,” I said, and did a time step around the cow. I couldn’t help it. The sound was so great. The clear sound of my heels clicking on this black and white tile was too hard to resist. “Tap your troubles away,” I sang, the tiles making my voice sound as if I were in my bathroom at home. Mary Louise couldn’t resist. She’s like me. Play a little music and we’ll follow you anywhere. She started tapping with me and we did our grapevine smoothly around the cow, smiling at the people who stopped to watch us.

  “Amerikanskis,” one old man said to his wife, who frowned. They walked away from us as quickly as possible.

  “You’re under arrest,” a voice behind us said. We turned, startled, and saw Gini, Pat, and Janice watching us from the other side of the cow.

  “No disrespectful cow dancing is allowed in Gum’s,” Janice said.

  “That’s Goom’s,” Gini said.

  We joined arms, threw in a couple of high kicks, and after some more frowns from other shoppers, walked a little more sedately toward the fountain in the middle of the mall. Topping a high column, the fountain spilled water into a pool below, where children threw coins. American pennies and dimes mixed with Russian rubles and others I couldn’t identify.

  “Did you buy anything?” Janice asked me.

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t see anything authentically Russian. Just stuff I don’t buy at home because it’s too expensive. But I wouldn’t have missed seeing the mall. What time is it, anyway? I think we’re supposed to be back at the bus.”

  “Yeah, it’s time,” Pat said. “Let’s go.”

  Andrei was waiting for us.

  When we were all assembled, he said, “Now we go Ploschad Revolotsii, or Revolution Square. Is only a short distance so we walk there. You will see. Is most beautiful subway system in world.

  And it was. We walked down the stairs to the station platform, which looked like the inside of a museum. The floors were so clean, I thought we should take off our shoes.

  “Andrei, are those walls marble?” Gini asked, taking out her camera.

  “Yes. Stalin wanted these stations to be his legacy,” Andrei said. “You will see stained glass decorations here. Chandeliers hang from ceilings that have paintings on them of Russian workers. Different in every station. The columns along each side of the platforms have carving at top.”

  It was mind-boggling. I found it hard to wrap my brain around the fact that it was a subway station. I’m used to New York’s decidedly unfancy platforms. The train roared into the station and Andrei ushered us on board. We sat down on clean seats, admired the spotless floors, and then, startled, I realized there was a dog lying on the floor across from me. Just a dog by himself, alone, without a human being attached.

  “Andrei,” I said, “how come there’s a dog there? He doesn’t seem to have an owner.”

  “Is big problem in subways. No one knows what to do,” Andrei said. “About thirty-thousand stray dogs in Moscow who belong to no one. Some of them figured out how to ride subways. They go on specific trains and ride to their stop. People pet them. Give them food. They’re all over the city.”

  “They’re not rounded up and put in shelters?” Pat asked.

  “No. People say is not dogs’ fault they are homeless. Let them alone. But, is problem.”

  The dog saw me looking at him, got up, and came over.

  “He wants food,” Andrei said.

  I took a cracker out of my bag and held it out to him. He snapped it up and then rubbed against my leg. He was a mutt, sort of a combination Labrador and golden retriever. I could not resist petting him. He looked up at me and his whole body seemed to say, Take me with you. Or however you say that in Russian.

  I looked over at Pat. “No, Tina,” she said, smiling sympathetically. “You can’t adopt him. Heidi would not be happy.”

  The train stopped and Andrei motioned for us to get off. I gave my canine friend one last hug and got off with the others. But the dog followed me off the train. I meant to tell him that he couldn’t come with me, but I didn’t know how to say it in Russian. He trotted along at my side until we got to the bus, which was waiting for us at the next station. I knelt down beside him and put my arms around him. He put his head on my knee and looked at me with big brown eyes that clearly said, Please don’t send me back out there. I love you.

  “Andrei,” I said, “couldn’t we take him to the circus with us? They might have some food for him there. And circus people like animals.”

  “Is no room on bus. I would like to . . . but . . .”

  The dog, whom I had named Misha, jumped on the bus and looked back at me, waiting for me to follow him.

  “Just to the circus, Andrei. OK?” I said. “He can sit on my feet.”

  Andrei shrugged. “He’s already in bus. But if one of passengers says no, he must go. You understand?”

  “Sure,” I said. I knew no one could resist this dog.

  “Are you nuts?” Gini muttered to me when she took her seat behind me. “What are you going to do with that dog when it’s time to go back to the ship? You can’t have a dog there. Think, Tina.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to be on the subway either,” I said. “Or on the bus. But guess what?”

  Mary Louise slid into the seat beside me. My dog looked up at her, and I know you won’t believe me, but he smiled at her. Mary Louise reached over and petted him. “Good dog,” she said. “I’ll have to ask Elena how to say that in Russian. But, seriously, Tina, you’re not really going to keep him, are you?”

  She looked at my face. “You are going to keep him,” she said.

  “We’ll see,” I said.

  The other passengers reached over to pet Misha as they passed my seat. He smiled at all of them.

  “Under your seats you will find a box lunch to eat while we drive to the theater, where you will see our famous Moscow Circus,” Andrei said.

  I gave my chicken sandwich to Misha. He made happy dog noises and snuggled closer to me as we pulled up in front of the theater.

  Since I didn’t know how to say “stay” in Russian, Misha followed me into the theater. Andrei looked in the other direction and pretended not to notice. The lobby was filled with teasers for the show. A couple of acrobats jumped around in one corner, a juggler practiced throwing pins in another, a baby tiger clawed at the bars of his cage, clowns made faces at the children, some of whom started to cry.

  “I don’t blame them,” Gini said. “I was always terrified of clowns when I was a child. I still don’t see the point.”

  “There’s no point to clowns,” Pat said. “They’re just a part of a circus. You sort of expect them.”

  A little boy came in with his mother, took one look at the clowns, and burst into tears. He clung to his mother and buried his face in her coat. Misha looked at him and then up at me, back to the boy and then up to me again. I knew what he was asking me. I petted him and nodded. “Da, Misha,” I said, and my kind-hearted dog trotted over to the little boy and nudged him.

  The child, who was about five years old, stopped crying, smiled, and reached out to hug Misha. “Mamma,” he said, “Danya!”

  His mother patted the dog too and looked up to see me watching her.

  She must have heard me speaking to my friends, because she spoke to me in English. “Your dog?” she said.

  “No, I just found him on the subway,” I said. “He followed me here. He seems to like your little boy.”

  “My son Alexei had a dog just like this one,” she said. “His name was Danya. He died a
couple of months ago. Alexei loved him so.”

  “You know,” I said, and hesitated. I really wanted to take that dog back home with me. But I knew that wasn’t practical. Misha belonged here in Russia with a little boy who would love him.

  “I can’t take this dog back to America with me,” I said. “Would you like to have him? I know you’ll take good care of him and your little boy will love him.”

  “Is true?” she said, her whole face reflecting her joy. She leaned down and said something to her son in Russian. He reached up and hugged her and then put his arms around Misha, whose tail was wagging so furiously I thought it would knock somebody over.

  “Thank you,” the lady said. “I can see by your face how much you love him. I make picture for you.” She took out her phone and took a picture of my dog and sent it to my phone.

  “I send you more when I get home,” she said. “You will see how much we love him, that he is happy with Alexei.”

  I thanked her and knelt down to hug my Misha good-bye. He licked my face and smiled at me and then turned back to Alexei. It was as if he knew which one of us needed him the most.

  There were tears in my eyes when I joined my friends again.

  “You OK, hon?” Mary Louise asked me as we took our seats in the theater.

  “I guess,” I said, but I knew I would never forget that big friendly dog, whose generous nature seemed to embody everything good about Russia.

  The house lights dimmed. The music blared and the ringmaster appeared in a large spotlight with nine tigers. Magnificent orange-brown beasts with black markings, they moved restlessly back and forth, their regal faces turning side to side. At a crack of the whip, the tigers jumped through a large flaming hoop one by one, filling the air with the noise of their snarling and growling.

  “Aren’t they gorgeous?” Mary Louise said. “Are they an endangered species?”

  “Yes, I read that all tigers are endangered now,” I said, missing my sweet little tortoiseshell cat, Pandora, who was probably taking a nap on the windowsill back home.

  Pandora had kept me sane and functioning in the months following Bill’s death. I would climb into bed and she would jump up to snuggle next to me. Don’t get me wrong. A cat can’t make up for a man next to you in bed, but she’s the next best thing. Just patting her silky fur and holding her on my lap when I’m feeling sad and lonely helps a lot. I love her. And love always works miracles.

  The tigers got a standing ovation. When the ring was cleared, five acrobats swung from trapezes, gliding through the air, jumping down into the net, climbing up to high platforms, and sailing gracefully to grasp the hands of their partners. Jugglers, clowns, equestrians, and tightrope walkers dazzled us with their amazing skills.

  After the show was over, we filed out to our bus, where Andrei was waiting for us.

  Just as I was about to get on the coach, I felt something bump against my leg. Misha had come to say good-bye to me. I knelt down to hug him. Alexei and his mother stood nearby smiling as they watched that big dog lick my face with farewell kisses.

  “Take good care of Alexei, Misha. Keep him safe,” I said, trying not to cry. “You’re a good dog,” I said to Misha.

  He gave my arm one more nudge and walked back to Alexei.

  “Dasvidaniya, nice lady,” the little boy said. I waved good-bye to him as I climbed on the bus.

  Mary Louise handed me a tissue as I sat next to her. “You did the right thing, sweetie,” she said. “Did you see that little boy’s face?”

  “I know,” I said, sniffing. “But I love that dog.”

  Gini reached over the seat and kissed the top of my head.

  “How you like our circus?” Andrei asked. “Is best in world, no?”

  “It was wonderful, Andrei,” we said, and plopped back into our seats for the ride back to the ship.

  If I had known what was waiting for me, I would have joined the circus instead.

  Tina’s Travel Tip: Morse code for “help” is three dots, three dashes, and three dots. Good luck finding someone else who knows what that means.

  Chapter 22

  Who Took My Lysol?

  We decided to dress up for our last dinner on board.

  I wore my white silk pantsuit with a black and white lace camisole and my black and white strappy high heels. Mary Louise looked gorgeous in a pale yellow dress with skinny shoulder straps.

  We headed up the stairs to the dining room when I realized I’d forgotten something.

  “You go ahead,” I said. “I just want to get my black art deco earrings from the top shelf. I’ll be right with you.”

  I ran back to the cabin and stood on the bed to reach my earrings when I heard a faint sound in the bathroom. I froze. No, it must be next door, I thought, and hopped off the bed.

  The bathroom door opened. I couldn’t believe what I saw. This must be some kind of nightmare, I thought. It can’t be who I think it is. But there, pointing a gun at me and grinning evilly, was the chef. Ken Allgood.

  “You’re not dead,” I stammered. It was all I could think of to say.

  “Brilliant,” he said. “I made sure there’s no Lysol in here, so don’t even think about pulling another spray-and-run.”

  “That was you with the scarf around your head?” I said. “You sounded like a Russian.”

  “Pretty good, huh? It would have worked too, if you hadn’t gotten lucky with that can of Lysol.”

  “How did you get in here?” I said. “We were changing into our dinner clothes only a minute ago.”

  “I was under the bed behind the life jackets,” he said. “I’ve been here all day. I have a score to settle with you, sweetheart, and this time you’re getting me off this ship.”

  “How are you going to do that with police all over the ship?” I said.

  “Once they see you tap-tapping down the corridor with a gun to your head, they’ll do whatever I tell them.”

  This couldn’t be happening again. I might have gotten away from him once, but how was I going to do it twice? My hands were sweating, I felt faint, but I had to hold on. Stay calm, I told myself. Don’t panic. You’re smarter than this jerk. Yeah, but he’s got the gun, I realized. A gun trumps brains any day.

  “But they pulled your body from the river,” I said. “How could you . . .”

  “That wasn’t my body, honey,” he said.

  “Whose was it?”

  “You ask too many questions.”

  “What’s the difference? If you’re going to kill me, you might as well tell me.”

  “I have other plans for you, sweetheart.”

  I suddenly understood the expression, “my blood ran cold.”

  “Whose body was it?” I asked again, trying to stall him.

  “It was that American boy.”

  “You mean Brad Sheldon?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Who else?”

  “Did you kill him?” I asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “But why? You had no reason to hurt him.”

  “I had a very good reason. He wouldn’t give me what I wanted.”

  “What was that?” I had to keep him talking, stall for time until I could figure out what to do.

  “His passport. Why else would I bother with someone the same height, same color hair, same age as me? I had to pretend to have the hots for him to get him into my room. I almost threw up when I had to kiss him. But it was the only way I could get him to help me get to New York. I’ll do anything to get there, including killing you if you don’t do what I tell you.”

  “We thought you were bisexual because of that young girl you kissed,” I said, trying to think of anything to say, to keep him answering instead of shooting me. “She’s underage, you know. You could have been in big trouble.”

  “I’ve been in trouble all my life, sweetie. Anyway, Sheldon told me he would help me get to New York and that I could stay with him and he would introduce me to some people in the restaurant business. He lied—the little
rat. He weaseled out of the whole deal and told me he didn’t know anybody in the restaurant business and that he couldn’t help me. He said it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore. I knew I had to act fast, so after I saw that he had his American passport on him when he cashed a check, I told him we could at least have one last drink together in my room, no hard feelings, and the dummy agreed. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. You’re too nosy.”

  “Who am I going to tell? You might as well tell me what happened.”

  “Yeah, why not?” He laughed. “I put some knockout drops in his drink and then I strangled him and took his passport. Before he passed out, he struggled a lot and I had to hit him a few times. There was blood all over the place. I put my jacket on him, stuck my British passport in a plastic pouch and placed it in the pocket of the jacket, and threw his body overboard. With his passport, I can start over in New York. I’ve had enough of jolly old England and Mother Russia to last me a lifetime. Nobody will miss him.”

  “Well, why did you shoot Sasha?” I asked. What did he do?”

  “Oh, that twit! I sneaked out in the middle of the night to get something to eat in the kitchen and Sasha came in to do something. I never did figure out what he did on this ship. Anyway, he saw me in there and I had to shoot him. I tried to drag him out to the deck and throw him overboard, but he was too heavy. I only got as far as the top of the stairs where you and your pals found him.”

  “Why are you still on the ship if you have Brad’s passport? Why didn’t you just go?”

  “How am I gonna do that, honey? They check you coming and going on this ship. I can’t swim back to shore, now can I? As long as this gun is pointed at you, they won’t stop me from getting off the ship. I keep you with me until I can get to the garage where I left my rental car before the cruise. Once away from the police, I’ll leave good old Mother Russia. You don’t need to know how I’ll do that or where I’m going. You just be a good girl and do as you’re told until I’m off the ship and you can go back to your tap dancing. Any trouble out of you and you’re dead.”

  “You can’t really think you’ll get away with this,” I said. “The Russian police won’t care what happens to me. They’ll shoot you down and if I get killed, tough.”