The Cinderella Murder

by Mary Higgins Clark

  “Sorry, Grandpa.” Timmy reached next to him and began straightening the pile that had been toppled. “What are these?”

  “Those are photographs of drivers who were near Castle Crossings on the day I’m interested in but who have prior addresses in Los Angeles.”

  “And you’re interested in that particular day because that’s when Mrs. Dempsey’s neighbor got killed?”

  Leo looked toward the kitchen, where he could hear the others finishing up their dinner. Laurie didn’t like him talking so openly about crime with Timmy, but the boy had witnessed his own father’s murder and spent years under the killer’s threat to come for Timmy as well. As far as Leo was concerned, the child was going to have a natural curiosity about crime.

  “Yes, that’s why we’re interested. And if the person who hurt Lydia has something to do with your mother’s case—”

  Timmy completed the thought. “Then he might have lived down here when Susan was in college.” He was sneaking peeks at the driver’s license photos he was supposedly straightening.

  “That’s right,” Leo said. “I tell ya, Timmy. You can do anything you want when you grow up, but you’ve got the chops to be a better cop than I was.”

  Timmy suddenly stopped fiddling with the pictures and pulled one from the pile. “I know him!”

  “Timmy, we’re not playing police right now. I’ve got to get back to work here.”

  “No, I mean it, for real. I saw him in the restaurant in San Francisco, the one with the huge meatballs and all the pictures of celebrities on the walls.”

  “At Mama Torini’s?”

  “Yes. This man was there. He was sitting at the bar, right above our table. Whenever I looked at him, he turned around really fast.”

  Leo took the photograph from his grandson. According to the driver’s license, the man was Steve Roman. His current address in San Francisco had been changed with the DMV two years earlier. Before that, he had been a longtime resident of Los Angeles.

  “You’re saying you saw this man, in person, when we were in San Francisco?”

  “Yes. He had big muscles and pale skin. And his head was shaved. Not like bald when the hair falls out, but it was shaved, like when you say you have five o’clock shadow, Grandpa. And I remember thinking it was funny he’d shave his head while other grown-ups complain all the time about their hair falling out. Plus the bartender had long dark hair but kept it in a ponytail, so in a way he was hiding his hair too.”

  “Timmy, are you sure?” But Leo could tell Timmy was sure. As much as he credited Timmy’s ability to deal with hardship, the threat of Blue Eyes had trained the boy to constantly monitor any man in his vicinity.

  Leo believed that Timmy had indeed seen Steve Roman. Still, he’d like to have something more to connect this man to the case.

  “Do me a favor, kiddo. Can you fetch me your iPad from the kitchen?”

  Seconds later, Timmy was back with his gadget in tow. “Are we playing a game?”

  “Not quite yet.” Leo opened the browser, typed in “Steve Roman,” and hit ENTER.

  He found listings for a Boston Realtor, a New York City investment banker, the author of a book about rain forests. He scrolled to the next page of results.

  Timmy touched his index finger to the screen. “Look, Grandpa. Click on that one. Weren’t Mommy and Alex talking about that today?”

  Leo knew immediately from the name of the website that he had found the correct Steve Roman. He finally had the connection he was looking for between Lydia Levitt’s murder and Under Suspicion.

  “Laurie!” he called out. “You need to see this!”

  57

  “Alex, that was delicious.” Laurie could still smell the aroma of cooked red wine and mushrooms as she filled the cast-iron pot with sudsy water to soak overnight.

  “I’ll pass the compliment on to Ramon. He’s the one who taught me everything I know about coq au vin.” It had been Alex’s idea to send craft services away early so they could have one home-cooked meal in this gourmet kitchen.

  “A five-star dinner,” Laurie said, “and then in the morning, little elves will appear to carry away the dirty dishes. I could get used to this.”

  She had just stacked the final plate in the sink when she heard the sound of her father’s voice from the living room. “Laurie!” Was it her imagination, or did he sound excited? “You need to see this!”

  She turned off the faucet and ran to the living room. Her father and son were next to each other on the sofa.

  “We’ve got something, Laurie. It was actually Timmy who made the connection.”

  “Dad, I told you I didn’t want him exposed to all this.”

  Now Timmy was on his feet, extending a printout of a driver’s license. “I recognized this man right away, Mommy. His name is Steve Roman. His car was photographed right outside Mrs. Dempsey’s neighborhood the day Lydia Levitt got killed in her yard.” Laurie could not believe she was hearing her nine-year-old son talk this way about a homicide. “And I also saw him right next to us at the restaurant in San Francisco, at Mama . . .”

  He looked to his grandfather for help with the name. “At Mama Torini’s,” Leo said. “Timmy got a good enough look at him to recognize this picture. The man’s name is Steve Roman. He lives in San Francisco, but until two years ago, he was in Los Angeles. And get this.”

  Her father handed her the iPad. Part of her didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to believe that Timmy had been sitting right next to someone involved in Lydia Levitt’s murder. She didn’t want to believe that the woman’s death had anything to do with her decision to reinvestigate the Cinderella Murder.

  She saw the name “Steve Roman” multiple times on the screen. The website was for Advocates for God. Someone named Steve Roman was a frequent poster to the community forum.

  She shuffled a pile of documents off a chair so she could sit and process the information.

  A member of Keith Ratner’s church had been watching them in San Francisco and had been spotted near the murder of Rosemary Dempsey’s neighbor? This couldn’t be a coincidence.

  She thought back to that moment at the end of filming today. When Alex had pressed Nicole about her fight with Susan, Keith Ratner appeared to know more than he was saying. Did the fight have something to do with AG?

  Laurie stood from the sofa and steered her son into the kitchen. “Grace? Do you mind keeping an eye on Timmy? I have a few more questions for Nicole.”

  58

  When Laurie knocked on Nicole’s hotel door, Alex was at her side. He and Leo had insisted that she not leave the house alone. They finally agreed that Leo would stay home with Timmy and Grace while Alex accompanied Laurie to the hotel.

  When the door cracked open, it was Nicole’s husband, Gavin, who answered.

  “Laurie, hi. It’s after nine o’clock. Were we expecting you?”

  “We need to talk to Nicole.”

  “I hope this is important. My wife is in bed.”

  He stepped aside, allowing them to enter. Laurie was surprised to find a large living area, with a separate dining room to the side. Clearly Gavin had used his own money to upgrade them beyond the standard suite provided by the show. “She’s not in any danger, is she?” Gavin asked. “She’s been so darn nervous ever since Rosemary called her about this show.”

  Laurie heard Alex intentionally clear his throat. He was reminding her not to slip into her normal mode of trying to comfort her witnesses. “Actually, yes, there’s a real possibility she’s in danger, Gavin.”

  “That’s impossible,” he snapped. “Nicole, you need to get out here.”

  When she emerged from the separate bedroom, Nicole was wearing a pajama set topped by a robe. “Sorry, I was getting ready for bed.”

  She did not sound sorry.

  “They said you’re in danger.”

  “I said you might be in danger,” Laurie emphasized. “Have you ever seen this man?” Laurie handed her a printout of Steve Roman’s dri
ver’s license photograph, monitoring Nicole’s face for a reaction.

  Her expression was blank. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “His name is Steve Roman. We believe he’s the man who killed Rosemary’s neighbor, Lydia Levitt.”

  “How would I know a burglar?”

  “We think Lydia interrupted this man snooping behind Rosemary’s house, but he wasn’t a burglar. He was trying to learn more about the people involved in Under Suspicion. In fact, just days after Lydia’s death, he was following my family and me in San Francisco. He was probably watching you as well. He could also be the person who attacked my assistant producer, Jerry.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not following your logic,” Nicole said.

  “Steve Roman is a longtime member of Advocates for God.”

  Laurie had been prepared to lay out AG’s connections to Keith Ratner and her theory that Keith may have sent one of his church friends, Steve Roman, to sabotage the show and stop production. But the expression on Nicole’s face at the mention of Advocates for God made it clear that Nicole already knew something about them.

  “Today during the shoot, you said you didn’t remember what you argued about with Susan. And when I first met you, you were vague about your reasons for leaving Los Angeles. It has something to do with this church, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t—I don’t know anything about it.”

  Alex handed her the file folder they had prepared before leaving the house. Laurie slipped the first photograph from the file, an eight-by-ten of nineteen-year-old Susan, smiling up at the camera. Laurie quickly followed it up with a second picture, this one of Lydia Levitt.

  “These two women are dead. This is no longer about whatever personal history you want to keep private,” Laurie said. “People are being hurt. My friend Jerry is in the hospital right now. And it has something to do with Advocates for God.”

  Gavin wrapped a protective arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Nicole, if you know something—”

  “I never meant to hide anything from you, Gavin. I was trying to protect myself. To protect us.” Nicole took Gavin’s hand in hers and faced Laurie directly. “I’ll tell you. But only to help. No cameras.”

  Laurie nodded. At this point, the truth mattered more than the show.

  59

  Dwight stepped carefully from the dock onto the stern of his boat, a forty-two-foot cruiser perfect for short trips. He immediately felt a calmness enter his body as he rocked with the sway of the boat on the water. The waves slapping gently against the fiberglass were like a lullaby. Once his scuba partner arrived, he’d be out in Shaw’s Cove, diving into the darkness. He loved nothing more than the solitude of night diving.

  He would not truly be able to enjoy the scuba dive until he first completed one task. He climbed down into the cabin, retrieved his laptop from his messenger bag, flipped it open, and clicked on the surveillance video of the Bel Air house. It had been two days since Dwight had decided not to go to the police with the video of the horrible attack on Jerry. He had to hope that his continued monitoring might lead him to some answers about Susan’s death, and possibly Jerry’s attacker.

  He sped through the video, slowing down only when something interested him. When he reached the end of the tape, he rewound to the scene that fascinated him most, the joint interview with Madison Meyer, Nicole Hunter, and Keith Ratner.

  Alex Buckley had caught Madison in a couple of inconsistencies, but they were small ones. She was still vouching for Frank Parker. The bigger revelation was that Susan had a fight with Nicole and had stormed out of the dorm that evening.

  Dwight knew how excited Susan had been about that audition. She wouldn’t have missed it voluntarily.

  He rewound the video once again, replaying Alex Buckley’s final question over and over again: Where would she have gone?

  He closed his eyes and pictured Susan on the night when he decided that he truly loved her. They had worked so late at the lab that they realized that dawn was only an hour away. They decided to drive to Griffith Observatory, reportedly the best place to watch the sun rise. As they sat in the grass, in the dark, she had filled the silence, talking about how petty girls could be to each other. How the theater department was filled with actresses who had the same amount of talent as she did but twice the ambition. How too many of her friends prioritized their boyfriends over their girlfriends. The way, even with Keith, she always felt she had to boost his confidence. She said there was only one place where she could let another side of her personality take over.

  Where would she have gone?

  Dwight was pretty sure he knew.

  He used his computer to pull up an online calendar from 1994 to refresh his memory. By May 7, it had been weeks since Hathaway had caught Dwight hacking into the university computer system. Dwight remembered the timing because he was counting down the days until the end of the semester. He wanted to go to La Jolla for another scuba trip.

  All this time, he had suppressed the connection between the date of Susan’s death and another event that had changed his life.

  He closed his eyes again and recalled Susan’s excitement about her audition with Frank Parker. She always said she liked to feel calm and focused before a performance, trying to channel her character. If a fight with Nicole had forced her from her dorm room at six, that gave her at least forty-five minutes to calm herself down. If she had needed another place to feel calm and safe, Dwight knew exactly where Susan would have gone. And he knew exactly what she would have heard when she got there.

  His skin felt hot. He stood up and started pacing in the boat’s cabin. He was having a hard time controlling his own breathing. He needed his own safe place now. He needed to be in the water.

  But he also wanted to get his thoughts out. His plan had worked: he finally believed he knew who had killed Susan.

  He pulled up Laurie’s number on his cell and hit ENTER. “You’ve reached Laurie Moran . . .”

  “Call me ASAP,” he said at the tone. “I need to talk to you.”

  He was so focused on leaving a message that he did not hear the footsteps on the deck.

  60

  Gavin led his wife to the sofa and held her hand protectively. “I’m here for you,” he whispered. “Always. No matter what. If there’s anybody you’re afraid of, I’ll protect you.”

  Nicole spoke quickly, focusing on some random spot in the distance. “The fight with Susan was about Advocates for God. I’d been a member of the church for months, and Susan didn’t approve. She said they were crooks, that they used religion to bilk people of their money. She said I was getting brainwashed. And it didn’t help that I was . . . in a relationship with Martin Collins. I thought he was the most generous, inspiring person. I thought I was in love with him, but I was so young and impressionable.”

  The moment was disrupted by the buzz of Laurie’s phone. Laurie fumbled in her purse and glanced at the screen. It was Dwight Cook. She did not want to interrupt Nicole, so she hit the REJECT CALL button. “If you’d been with the church for months,” Laurie said, “why did you fight about it that day?”

  “The argument was about Susan’s boyfriend, Keith. I took him to a new-member party. Susan was furious, saying I was out to convert him. The fight was as bad as Alex described earlier—even worse. I felt attacked. I threw a book at her. I can’t believe that’s the last time we saw each other.” She dropped her head into her hands.

  “You realize, Nicole, that some people might not believe that. If Susan was threatening to kick you out of the dorm—”

  “No, she never would have done that. It was an ugly fight, but honestly, I think she only snapped at me because of the culmination of everything at once: the audition and her agent leaving for Arizona because of his mom’s heart attack, and she was harried, rummaging through her drawers in a mad search for her lucky necklace. I walked in, and she lashed out at me about taking Keith to an AG event. I think it was just the icing on the cake. We would have been fine. And
I would certainly never have hurt Susan.”

  Something about Nicole’s version of the argument was bothering Laurie. “You say you wound up at O’Malley’s drinking too much. If it wasn’t truly a blowout, why were you so upset?”

  “After Susan stormed out, I walked to Martin’s to vent about our argument. Whenever I was with Martin, he had this way of making it all seem okay.” She whispered to Gavin, “I’m so sorry I never told you, please forgive me,” before continuing. “When I got to his house, the lights were on, and his car was in the driveway. He didn’t answer the door, so I just walked in, assuming he couldn’t hear me knocking. When I got to his bedroom—”

  Her voice broke, and she started to shake. Gavin pulled her close and told her that everything was going to be all right. “These secrets are torturing you, Nicole.”

  “When I walked into his bedroom, he was with a little girl. My gosh, she couldn’t have been more than ten. They were . . . in the bed. I ran from the house, but he caught up to me in the driveway. He told me if I ever breathed a word of what I’d seen, he would kill me. And not just me. The girl, too. He threatened to kill anyone I loved—my parents, my friends. He said he could find me forty years later and kill my children and grandchildren. And I could tell he meant it. I think he would have killed me on the spot if that little girl hadn’t been there to witness it.”

  “And you never said a word to anyone?” Laurie asked.

  Nicole shook her head and then looked down, sobbing into her hands. “You have no idea how much guilt I’ve carried. Every time I see him on television, I feel nauseous, wondering how many others he has victimized. I was tempted so many times to tell you, Gavin, but I was ashamed. And afraid for both of us. And I had no idea who the child was, and no proof. Martin is powerful. At the very least, he would get other church members to say I was crazy. And I didn’t doubt for a second his ability to carry out his threats. It’s why I was always afraid to have children, Gavin. I didn’t want to spend every moment terrified about Martin coming after them.”