Brewing Up a Storm
Page 14
It all sounded very rational, very well controlled. But, the detective thought, it did not sound like the screaming exchange of insults that had been described to him. Shrugging, he went on to Iona’s luncheon with Peggy Roche, then announced that would be all for the moment.
“Good,” said Iona. “That leaves me time to get into the city.”
Sean Cushing was delighted at Iona’s arrival. He had been thinking hard about the future of NOBBY.
“I’m glad you were able to come in, Iona. There are some points I want to discuss. Without Madeleine, there will have to be some changes.”
As usual on arrival, she was checking her watch.
“I still have about an hour.”
“The thing is, this is an awkward time for NOBBY to be without a formal spokesperson. First off, the murder investigation is bound to require comments from us. Then the results of the riot aren’t simply going to go away. We should be issuing some kind of explanation. On top of that, the Rossi hearings could start up again any day and we’ll need somebody on the stand. And if all that isn’t bad enough, there’ll be police auditors here any minute.”
Iona stiffened. “Auditors?”
“Not to worry,” he reassured her with an airy wave. “It’s just an insane idea that the cops have but it will disrupt the office for a while.”
“Perhaps you’d better tell me about their insane idea.”
“I had a fight with Madeleine on Tuesday morning. Cheryl overheard some of it and got the wrong idea. She repeated words like financial irregularities and mentioned money that Madeleine didn’t know about and a lot of horseshit like that. But there’s a simple explanation, really there is.”
“I’m sure there is.”
“I had to tell Madeleine that she’d really cooked her goose. Our major contributor was going to pull the plug unless she stepped down. When she heard that, she went crazy. Instead of seeing that she had nobody but herself to blame, she accused me of being underhanded. She claimed that I was selling out NOBBY, that I hadn’t told her where the money was coming from, that nobody had the right to tell her what to do with her own organization. And so forth. Then she decided she saw a way out from under and told me I was fired.”
“Who was the contributor?”
Sean was taken aback. Somewhat uneasily he said, “The Soft Drink Institute.”
But Iona merely became thoughtful, then finally nodded her head. “That makes sense. Their members don’t want to split the market with Quax.”
“I’d like to point out this was not some under-the-table deal. The source of that money was listed in our annual report, which Madeleine was supposed to read. Hell, she could have gotten it out of the computer any day. She made enough fuss about getting the thing.”
“Now, Sean, we both know that Madeleine never read anything, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”
With a jolt, Cushing remembered that this was not the discussion he had planned. He was the one supposed to be offering support. “I just wanted to give you the general picture before getting down to specifics. Now I know public appearances aren’t really your thing, Iona. But in a crisis like this we’ve all got to make an extra effort.” He paused to smile at her encouragingly. “I’m planning to suggest to the board that you step in and pinch-hit for Madeleine during the emergency.”
The flustered, self-deprecating Iona he had anticipated never materialized.
“That’s exactly what I came in to tell you,” she replied calmly. “I’ve already spoken to several of the governors about becoming director of NOBBY.”
The words were out of his mouth before he could recall them. “You sure didn’t waste any time.”
“As you just said, this is a crisis. I told them that, while I was willing to consider the offer,” she continued, “I couldn’t possibly agree unless several items were settled to my satisfaction. In order for NOBBY to be successful, it has to be run on a businesslike basis, particularly as we go national. I’ve always thought it was absurd that Madeleine didn’t take a proper salary. In any event, I couldn’t possibly do a good job without appropriate compensation.”
“And high time,” he said warmly. “You do so much work here, you should have been paid all along.”
“I explained that a substantial salary would be necessary because of the responsibilities I’d be shouldering. In addition, I’ll have to employ a live-in housekeeper. That goes without saying.”
“I suppose so,” Cushing mumbled, beginning to understand the order of magnitude she had in mind.
Iona was ticking off her list as if it dealt with placards and charter buses. “My second requirement is that there be a NOBBY that’s worth my time and attention.”
Until today, Sean thought bitterly, there had never been the slightest indication that the time Iona lavished on NOBBY was worth a thin dime.
“Things aren’t that bad,” he protested. “The biggest problem was Madeleine. With her unable to cause trouble I’ll bet I can sweet-talk Vandermeer into continuing his support.”
She shook her head. “Nobody will fund us as long as we have a pile of lawsuits hanging fire. We’ll just have to bite the bullet and settle the individual claims. But my husband tells me that Elmer Rugby sounded really vindictive on television. If they decide to ask for punitive damages, we can kiss good-bye to contributions. People aren’t going to open their checkbooks in order to have the money simply flow through our bank account into Rugby’s.”
Inundated by so many other concerns, Sean had overlooked this major hurdle. Two days ago everything had seemed so simple. Get rid of Madeleine and NOBBY’s future was secure. Now Madeleine was gone all right, but her legacy could prove as destructive as her presence had been.
“So Peggy Roche and I have decided on a direct approach to Elmer Rugby,” Iona swept on. “She’ll get the approval of the other governors and I’ll agree to act as temporary director. Then we’ll tackle Mr. Rugby and hope to persuade him that Madeleine’s death alters the situation. Now, about this audit. How soon will the police be starting?”
“I expect them to send in their people today,” said Sean, staring across the table in fascination.
“Good, the sooner the better, from my point of view. If we get a satisfactory resolution on the riot and the audit, I’ll be able to give the governors my decision.”
Her assurance was beginning to grate.
“What makes you think the rest of them will go along with Peggy?”
“Peggy’s already sounded out three of the others. Besides, who else is there to take over?” Iona asked serenely. “The board needs somebody instantly. Unless the salvage operation begins immediately, it will be impossible. And NOBBY’s image certainly won’t be hurt by having a spokesman who has children still at risk.”
Sean could scarcely believe his ears. Gentle, self-effacing Iona was seizing her moment with a vengeance. She had evaluated the strength of her position and was tanking right over the board. While he had still been planning his moves, she had stepped in and taken control of NOBBY.
She immediately demonstrated the strength of that control.
“So there’s no point in our approaching the Soft Drink Institute until we can give them some reassurances. Now, who did you say was representing them?”
“Roger Vandermeer. He’s their PR outfit.”
“Fine. If Mr. Vandermeer contacts you, just tell him what we’re working on. By the way, did our fund-raising extend to bottlers and distributors?”
Did she realize that she had progressed to giving direct orders?
“No, it didn’t.”
“Well, we might consider them for the future. It’s an obvious source of support and we’ll need it for going national.”
Just in time Sean bit back docile agreement. Now, if ever, was the moment to establish himself as an equal. Only after consideration did he say judiciously, “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
His efforts were wasted. She was still racing from one item to another.
“And, while I’m on the subject . . . don’t I remember Madeleine having a meeting with the head of the San Francisco chapter to discuss penetration of the West Coast?”
God, the woman even had total recall.
“That’s right, she taped it.” Sean summoned up a comradely grin. “You remember, that’s when Madeleine first got hooked on the thing.”
“Then I’ll have Cheryl dig it out. It’s possible that Mrs. Hale came up with something helpful.”
It went without saying that Madeleine had not.
“Listen, Iona, aren’t you forgetting another little complication,” he said, trying to crack that confident facade. “We’re in the middle of a murder investigation. The police will be buzzing around this place like flies.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten, but there’s nothing we can do about it. So I suggest that we leave the investigation to them and get on with our business.”
“For Chrissake, that’s easy enough for you to say. You’re not the one they’re after. It’s bad enough that Cheryl twisted around everything she heard. On top of that, the cops don’t think much of my alibi. It’s just my bad luck that I was in the middle of the subway going home to—” He stopped abruptly. Somehow he could not bring himself to tell Iona that he had been plotting a meticulous approach to the governors.
“Really, Sean! You act as if you’re the only suspect. The way Madeleine was carrying on, almost anybody could have become infuriated enough to lose control. I admit I came close when I was fighting with her before the adjournment.”
He looked up swiftly. “I didn’t know you quarreled with her there.”
“Oh, yes. Fortunately in front of some witnesses who saw that I didn’t give in to temptation.” A small reminiscent smile played over her lips. “You know, I’m glad I had the chance to tell her what I thought. And for your information, when I finished lunch with Peggy, I spent fifteen minutes waiting for a bus on a corner only two blocks from the hearings. But I’m not letting it worry me.”
Some ingrained maternal instinct always alerted Iona when her time was running out. Now, with another glance at her watch, she rose.
“Well, that covers about everything for the moment and the boys will be coming home from school.” She smiled at him encouragingly. “And Sean, I want you to know that another thing that has to be regularized around here is your status. I’ll talk to the board about an employment contract for you.”
Sean could barely manage a casual farewell. So much for his vision of a NOBBY firmly under his own control. It was futile to delude himself that Iona would ever dance to his strings. Grimly he settled to the task of isolating his own emotions. First there was mortification at having harbored such a colossal misconception of Iona. Then there was dismay at having been so smartly outgeneraled. He had actually started their meeting on the assumption that he, the professional, would be handing good, little Iona an unexpected plum by offering to approach those eminent governors on her behalf.
There was no denying that many things would change under Iona Perez’s leadership, but were they all bad? On the basis of today’s performance she was far more capable than Madeleine of developing NOBBY into a powerful credit on the Cushing résumé. She would probably create a clear demarcation between her responsibilities and his own, which would make day-to-day life easier. And the brute realities of fund-raising had not sparked the slightest qualm.
So far, so good. Still sighing over lost possibilities, Sean gave himself some advice.
“My boy,” he whispered, “you’re going to have to watch your step.”
Chapter 15.
Happy Hour
Inspector Reardon had barely dispatched his auditors before his attention was directed elsewhere.
“You wanted the fingerprint results as soon as they were ready,” the voice on the other end of the line said.
“Did you get anything from the weapon?”
“No, that had been really polished. But they didn’t do such a good job on the telephone. The top and sides of the receiver had been wiped clean, leaving one clear thumbprint on the bottom.”
“Whose?”
There was the rustle of a page turning.
“Alexander K. Moore.”
“Well now, what do you know about that!”
• • •
Reardon found the entire Kichsel management assembled in their New York branch office.
“This is not a good time, Inspector,” Dean Kichsel said heavily. “We’re in the middle of business.”
“So am I! And mine involves a woman who was murdered shortly after having a fight with two of you.”
Claudia Fentiman figuratively fluttered between the combatants. “We’re not denying the urgency of your work, Inspector. What Mr. Kichsel means is that we don’t see how we can be of further help. We’ve already told your men everything we know. Including,” she said evenly, “a description of our exchange with Mrs. Underwood.”
“I’ve been over the report. According to you two, she was a wild woman, lashing out at everybody in sight, and you just happened to be in the way.”
“That’s right,” said Alec Moore.
“But other people in the hallway say you were giving as good as you got.”
“So I was annoyed. You would have been too. Madeleine Underwood was making up all sorts of fantastic charges, anything to put the blame for her failures on someone else. I didn’t like it.”
The inspector turned to Claudia Fentiman.
“And you?”
“Oh, neither did I,” she said, presenting a united front. “I suppose on one level I realized there was no point in trying to reason with her. But it’s just human instinct to react when someone says ridiculous things.”
Nodding, Reardon abruptly changed the subject. “And when the hearings were adjourned you all went off to lunch?”
Dean Kichsel managed to invest every word with reproach. “I fail to see the value of our repeating these statements endlessly, but that is correct. Mrs. Fentiman, Mr. Benda and myself all went to the Dorchester. Mr. Moore had something else to do.”
Silently the inspector cocked an eyebrow at Alec Moore.
“It’s all down in the report,” Moore said impatiently. “I had to check some references at the library, the one across from the Museum of Modern Art. That gobbled up most of the lunch break. So I grabbed a sandwich and a beer at a tavern, then headed to the hotel. I’d only been there a couple of minutes before the others got back.”
“The waitresses at the tavern don’t remember you.”
“Dammit, there was a mob waiting for tables and I was alone. So I took the first free stool at the counter.”
“Let’s see. On the way back you would have passed within a block of the committee hearings.”
Moore’s jaw tilted aggressively. “That’s right, but I didn’t go in.”
The next question came out like a bullet.
“Then how come your fingerprint is on the phone in the room where Madeleine Underwood was murdered?”
In the lengthening silence Kichsel and Claudia and Theo Benda maintained carefully blank expressions, but Alec Moore’s face, screwed into thought, suddenly cleared.
“So that’s where she was killed!”
“Don’t give me that, Mr. Moore. You knew where she was killed, all right, or are you claiming you haven’t been following the coverage?”
“Of course I have, but the papers just said she’d been found in one of the committee offices. They’ve got a whole rabbit warren of cubicles back there. I just ducked into one that was empty.”
The inspector settled back with a grunt of satisfaction. “Well, now you know,” he purred. “The office you used on your way back to the hotel was the murder room.”
Moore shook his head doggedly. “You’ve got it all wrong. That was before I left for lunch. I have a son at Columbia and I was hoping to grab a bite with him. That’s why I didn’t go with the others. But when I called his apartment he wasn’t there and
I decided to do my library chores instead. All this happened at noon. I never went near that building afterward.”
“If it was all that innocent, how come you kept so quiet?”
“For God’s sake, your people asked me where I went when I left the hearings. I told them. So I didn’t mention trying to make a telephone call first. Big deal!”
“All right, then let’s go back to some of those charges by Mrs. Underwood. She claimed that she’d had you two investigated, that she knew where all your personal skeletons were buried, that she could prove you were morally corrupt.”
Once again Claudia intervened. “Aren’t you taking that out of context, Inspector?” she asked earnestly. “She also said that we’d bribed the Ludlum family to approach her, that we have Chairman Rossi in our pocket, that Quax is toxic no matter what the experts say and that we’re in collusion with the networks to sabotage her program. She did everything but claim we’re the antichrist. The woman was raving, she sounded like a lunatic.”
“You realize I can find out anything that she did?”
“I don’t doubt that you’ll dig up every nasty little bit of dirt in our backgrounds,” she snapped, her temper fraying. “That doesn’t make us murderers.”
The inspector made a show of consulting his notes. “It says here that you left lunch early, Mrs. Fentiman. And then put in a half hour at Saks. I don’t suppose anybody would remember you.”
“They remember you when you make a big purchase. I didn’t see anything I wanted.” Her tight little smile was a long way from the tolerant superiority she was aiming at.
Before Reardon could press the issue, Theo Benda stirred in the corner where he had been quietly listening. “Seems to me you’re missing the point, Inspector.”
“I am?”
“This Underwood woman was screwing up every time she showed herself. Thanks to her, NOBBY was in deep trouble even before the riot. And that little effort really put the lid on things. We didn’t have anything to gain by killing her, she wasn’t sinking our ship. But a hell of a lot of people were being damaged by what she was doing. They must have been scared to death what she’d come up with next. No matter what they say over at NOBBY, they’re breathing a lot easier with her dead. Why don’t you put a little muscle into that end?”