by Mary Daheim
that there’s any connection between these awful murders
and…my point of reference.”
Judith’s shoulders slumped in discouragement; Renie
turned her back on Russell. A strained silence fell over the
kitchen.
At last, Russell cleared his throat. “Excuse me…Could I
have some sugar, please?”
Judith gave Russell the sugar and a baleful look. Seeing
that he would not leave the kitchen without them, Judith
hurried through her task. She found some olives and pickles
in the refrigerator, added them to the tray, and headed for
the lobby.
Renie and Russell followed. Killegrew was not the only
160 / Mary Daheim
one who was drinking by the time Judith put the appetizer
tray down on the coffee table. Max and Gene had returned
after a fruitless search of the third floor. They each held a
martini glass, as did Nadia and Ava. Margo was drinking
straight Scotch from a shot glass.
“I have hot tea,” Russell said in a shy voice, though it was
impossible to tell if the statement was made to assert his
virtue or to prevent an offer of alcohol.
“Gene and I are going to start shoveling after we polish
these off,” Max said, indicating his cocktail. “We can’t wait
around all day for Ward, especially now that it’s started to
snow.”
“I can’t think where Ward would be,” Nadia said in a
fretful voice.
“Who can?” Margo snapped. “You’ve already said that
forty times.”
Judith glanced at the flagstones near the entrance. The
water was getting deeper and wider. “We’d better get back
to work,” she said to Renie. “Otherwise, we’re going to be
at flood stage.”
“Great,” Renie murmured. “I can’t swim.”
The cousins returned to their seemingly endless chore.
They could hear the pressure of the snow against the lodge,
causing creaks and groans in the structure. Despite the new
flakes, there was yet more daylight showing at the top of the
doorway. Judith noted that the branch or piece of roof or
whatever it was that had fallen onto the drift was moving
downward and forward.
“Watch out for that thing,” she said with a warning poke
for Renie. “It’s starting to slide. It might be something heavy.”
It was. As Judith and Renie watched with a sickening sense
of horror, they saw the body of Ward Haugland skid from
the top of the snowbank and fall on the flagstones with a
dull, dead thud.
TWELVE
EVERYBODY SCREAMED. GENE spilled his drink on the Navajo
rug, Margo reached for her gun, Max dropped a gin bottle,
which smashed on the flagstone hearth, and Frank Killegrew
leaped from the sofa so fast that his pants ripped. Ava slid
off the footstool, just missing the broken glass from the bottle
that had slipped from Max’s hands. Nadia and Russell
swayed in their respective places with eyes shut tight and
expressions frozen in grotesque masks.
“Ward!”
“Is he…?”
“God!”
“No! No! No!”
“How…?”
“Save us! Somebody, please!”
“I’m going to throw up now.”
Bedlam reigned for the next few minutes. Judith and Renie
scrambled out of the way, slipping and sliding on the wet
floor. Ward Haugland stared at them from wide, lifeless eyes.
The cousins finally staggered toward the cluster of sofas.
Gene, whose normal composure now seemed completely
shredded, took a few hesitant steps towards the latest victim.
“Madness,” he muttered. “Where will it
161
162 / Mary Daheim
all end?” He stopped, some ten feet away from Ward.
Max joined Gene. “What the hell…?” Max said under his
breath. “I don’t get it.”
“His room,” Judith said thickly. “Where is his room?”
Max and Gene looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
Maybe, she thought dazedly, she had. “His room,” she repeated, more clearly. “Wouldn’t Ward’s room be above the
front entrance? It’s in the middle of the second-floor corridor.”
Comprehension dawned on Gene. “I see. You mean…”
He stopped, then shook his head. “That’s terrible.”
“What are you jabbering about?” Killegrew demanded.
“Speak up, dammit!”
Gene turned to face his CEO. “Ward’s room is right above
the entrance. Whoever killed him must have pushed him out
the window.”
“That’s why it was so cold in there,” Renie said under her
breath. “The window had been open.”
“Ridiculous,” scoffed Killegrew. “Ward must have jumped.
It’s another suicide.”
“Jeeesus!” screeched Margo. “Who would try to commit
suicide by jumping out a window into a snowbank? Get over
it, Frank—Andrea didn’t kill herself and neither did Ward.”
“Then how did he die?” Ava asked, clinging to the footstool.
With small, creeping steps, Max and Gene moved forward.
“We really shouldn’t touch the…” Gene began.
“Stick it up your backside,” Max growled. “We have to find
out what happened and we can’t leave poor old Ward lying
here like a doorstop.”
“Close that door!” Killegrew ordered in a savage voice.
“We’re never going to shovel through that stuff! It’s getting
dark, it’s too late. Besides, this place is a mess. Look at that
floor!”
Naturally, everybody looked at Ward. “Gee, Frank,”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 163
Margo said, at her most sarcastic, “you’re right, as usual.
Having Ward’s corpse cluttering up the flagstones is pretty
darned unsightly. How come we can’t keep this vessel shipshape and trim-tidy?”
“Margo,” Killegrew roared, “I’ve just about had enough
out of you!”
“You sure have,” she shot back. “All my speeches, all my
words, all my vast vocabulary. If it weren’t for me, you’d be
reciting catch-phrases off of gas station reader boards.”
“Good God Almighty!” The words were torn out of Max’s
throat as he and Gene bent over the body. “It’s a garrote!
Just like—” He jabbed a finger at Judith and Renie. “—they
said about Barry!”
Several people gasped, including Judith, who edged forward. Bending down to peer between Gene and Max, she
saw what looked like a leather belt twisted around Ward
Haugland’s neck. But something was missing. There was no
stick. Judith said nothing, but she had to wonder why.
The unease in the lobby was palpable. Every person in the
room seemed to be casting wary glances in the direction of
everyone else. Margo was hugging her suede handbag, but
fear flickered in her dark eyes.
“Close that door, I said.” Frank Killegrew’s voice sounded
hoarse. “Now! I feel a draft!”
“It’s the hole in your pants, Frank,” said Margo. “Aren’t
you a little old to have pictures on your underwear?
”
Killegrew turned crimson. “Close that door!”
Nobody moved. Gene cleared his throat. “We have to face
facts. One of us is a killer. There’s no one else here.”
“Did any of you hear me?” Killegrew roared. “For the last
time, close that damned door!”
Max finally went to the door and gave it a tug. “I can’t,”
he said in a helpless voice. “There’s too much snow blocking
it.”
Someone laughed. The sound did not come from the
164 / Mary Daheim
lobby. It came from outside, drifting in over the snowbank
and echoing off the knotty pine walls.
The listeners inside the lodge were too stunned to scream,
too scared to move. They just stood there, open-mouthed
and terrified.
Then, their little world became suddenly, ominously silent.
Judith and Renie had taken their very stiff drinks into the
library. “They think we did it,” Judith said. “They think we
have an accomplice outside.”
“Do we?” Renie saw Judith’s puzzled expression, and
continued. “I mean, is someone out there who might be the
killer?”
Judith propped her chin on her fists. “It’s possible. But
hasn’t the lodge been locked until now? And how would
anybody get through the snow? If we can’t get out, who
could get in?”
“It’s crazy,” Renie responded. “But somebody’s out there.
Who the hell is it?”
Wearily, Judith shook her head. “I can’t imagine. The
caretaker? He’d have keys.”
“His place is a half-mile from here,” Renie said. “Keys or
no keys, he’d still have to get through the snow. And what
would bring him out in this awful weather when he’s been
ordered to stay away?”
Judith didn’t answer immediately. In the lobby, she knew
that Max and Gene were removing Ward Haugland’s body
and taking it up to the third floor to join Leon Mooney. Frank
and Nadia had gone upstairs so that she could mend his
pants with her sewing kit.
“Who is the caretaker?” Judith finally asked.
“I don’t know,” Renie responded, stoking up the fire which
had been about to die out. “Somebody hired by the lodge,
I suppose.”
“His place is a half-mile which way?” asked Judith.
“I don’t know that, either.” Renie was getting crabby.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 165
“Let’s find out,” Judith said, taking a big swig of Scotch.
“How?” Renie was still irritated.
“We’ll ask somebody. Maybe Frank. Or Nadia. Didn’t you
say that…”
The pager went off. Judith jumped, then groped around
in her shoulder bag. “Now what?” She peered in the little
window. “Damn—it’s my home number again.”
There was a phone on the desk in the library. “Try it,”
Renie said, apparently making an effort to overcome her
annoyance. “Maybe the brief lull in the weather freed up the
line.”
To Judith’s surprise, she heard a crackling noise when she
picked up the receiver. Jiggling the disconnect button, she
tried to get a dial tone. Nothing happened. “They could be
working on it,” she said as she hung up.
“Could be,” Renie said. “We don’t know where the problem is. It might be clear down the pass or even back in the
city.”
“It must be Mother trying to reach me,” Judith murmured,
drinking more Scotch. “I’m not sure I ever mentioned the
pager to Joe.”
“It’s Saturday, Joe’s home,” Renie pointed out. “If something happened to your mother, he’d know about it.”
“Joe might be working overtime. He could be running errands. He may have gone somewhere with Bill.” Judith’s
voice grew increasingly agitated.
“They may be snowed in, too,” said Renie. “You know
how it is on Heraldsgate Hill—three inches, and we can’t
budge. Heck, it’s so steep in our neighborhood that we can’t
even get out of the garage.”
“Y-e-s,” Judith admitted, then finished her drink. “Come
on. It’s time to present the evidence.”
Renie looked skeptical. “Which is?”
“Just follow my lead.”
Sidling up to the coffeetable, Judith poured herself a small
measure of Scotch. The OTIOSE group appeared to
166 / Mary Daheim
be in wary, desultory conversation. They all seemed to tense
when Judith and Renie joined them.
“Excuse me.” Judith rattled the ice cubes in her glass. “Ex-
cuse me,” she repeated, somewhat louder. Nadia and Russell
were still talking to each other. “Thank you,” Judith said
when everyone had finally turned anxious faces in her direction. “I have a small speech.”
“Hunh,” snorted Margo. “Somebody’s giving a speech I
didn’t have to write for them? How bizarre!”
Judith tried to ignore Margo. Indeed, she also tried to ignore the malevolent stares from the OTIOSE employees. “My
cousin, Serena, and I are in a very awkward position,” Judith
began, her voice sounding unnaturally high. “While Serena
knows some of you slightly, I’m a complete stranger.
Therefore, I wouldn’t blame any of you for being suspicious
of us.”
“Damned straight,” said Max.
“You’re outsiders,” said Ava.
“Why shouldn’t we be suspicious?” demanded Killegrew.
“I’m not suspicious,” Russell maintained. “They made me
a nice cup of hot tea.”
“Thank you, Russell,” Judith said with a small smile. “As
I was saying, we understand your concern. It appears to be
on two levels. The first is that some of you may think we
perpetrated these heinous crimes.” Judith paused, waiting
for comments. There were none, though anxious glances
were exchanged. “The second,” she continued, “is that you
may be afraid that we’re going to rush off to the media and
reveal everything that’s happened here.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” cried Nadia.
“Don’t try it,” warned Killegrew.
“We can get an injunction,” murmured Gene.
“Talk your heads off, who cares?” said Margo.
It occurred to Judith that the threat of exposure by the
cousins posed a greater danger to most of the OTIOSE crew
than did the possibility of Judith and Renie carving them
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 167
up with a chainsaw. Taking their reaction as confirmation,
Judith resumed speaking.
“The fact is, we haven’t harmed anyone nor do we intend
to. Not in any way.” Again she paused, this time for emphasis. “However, we will do our civic duty. It so happens that
we have acquired certain evidence which points to the killer.
Not only has this evidence been placed in safe hands, but so
has a note stating that if anything should happen to either
of us, those damning proofs will be turned over as soon as
humanly possible to the authorities.”
“Evidence?” Ava wore a bewildered expression.
“You’re bluffing,” Killegrew declared.
/> “Is this physical evidence?” Gene queried.
“Most definitely,” Judith responded, wondering if Gene
had an inkling about the pillowcase. “Several pieces of evidence, in fact. They’re all in safe hands.”
“Wait a minute,” Max said with a deep scowl. “Who did
you give this stuff to? There’s nobody here but us.” Despite
his statement, everyone turned toward the entrance where
the door still stood open.
Judith was quick to squelch speculation. “We don’t know
where that laugh came from any more than you do,” she said
to the group in general. “As for the evidence—and the
note—we gave everything to the one person we know did
not commit any of these crimes. You know who you are, and
that you are sworn to secrecy. You also know that we have
a note from you, making the same kind of statement to ensure
your own personal safety.” Judith’s gaze floated somewhere
above the gathering. “That’s all I have to say. Thank you.”
Max raised a hand. “Hey! What about Q&A? We always
have Q&A after a speech.”
“We always have cookies,” Russell put in.
But Judith had withdrawn to the other side of the room,
where Renie stood with an inscrutable expression on her
face. “Shall we mop?” Renie asked out of the corner of her
mouth.
168 / Mary Daheim
“I’m tired of mopping,” Judith asserted in a low tone. “I’m
tired of this lodge, and these people, and the whole damned
thing.” She took another big swallow of Scotch.
“What about dinner? It’s going on five.”
“Don’t tell me you’re hungry.”
Renie shook her head. “Not really. But I assume the herd
will want to graze.”
“Let them. I quit.”
“Hm-mm. You’re getting testy, coz. Is it the booze or the
company?”
“Both.” Judith nudged Renie in the direction of the dining
room. “Let’s go in there. We can actually talk above a whisper.”
Once the doors were shut behind them, Renie grinned at
Judith. “That was brilliant, coz. You even managed to stun
me with that part about the note to one of the OTIOSE
gang.”
“It’ll keep them guessing,” Judith said. “I had to come up
with something.”
“I wish we could trust one of them,” Renie said, her grin
fading. “What about Nadia? Could she push Ward Haugland
out a window?”