by Mary Daheim
Shouldn’t a CEO have organizational and administrative
skills?”
Renie smirked. “Look at Frank. Does he strike you as a
managerial wizard? His strength is delegating. Maybe Alan
can do that, too.”
“You know,” Judith said, still looking perplexed, “if OTIOSE is an example of how the world of commerce runs, I’m
beginning to wonder how any companies or businesses keep
from going belly-up.”
“You’d wonder more if you had to deal with them like I
do,” Renie said. “Management has no loyalty to employees
and employees have no loyalty to the workplace. Common
sense seems to have gone out the window years ago. Everybody spends more time in useless meetings than getting
things done. And everybody brings their private lives to the
office, which becomes a group therapy session. Boy, am I
glad I work for myself. I’m a lousy boss, but I know how to
take criticism. I just tell myself to shut up and get down to
business.”
“Hillside Manor is such a quiet, nonpolitical, uncomplicated place,” Judith sighed. “Sure, I get crazy guests and my
mother drives me nuts and it’s hard work, but compared
with what goes on downtown, I’ve got it made.”
“Me, too,” Renie agreed. “Working for yourself is the only
way to go. I’m sure that’s why Bill and Joe are anxious to
retire. They can’t be their own bosses. Joe’s got a tough chain
of command with the police department, and even though
people who don’t know any better think professors live in
an ivory tower, it’s covered with thorns. There’s a hierarchy,
politics galore, and all kinds of budget crises, especially at a
state university.”
“At least Joe and Bill accomplish something,” Judith pointed out. “Joe may get frustrated, but he does protect and
serve. If you save only one life in the course of a year, that’s
a huge contribution.”
196 / Mary Daheim
Renie nodded. “You bet. And Bill may feel as if most of
his students are only slightly smarter than your average artichoke, but every so often he realizes that he’s made a big
impression on someone that will last a lifetime. How many
other people can say that about their so-called careers?”
Judith blinked at Renie. “Yes,” she said in an odd voice.
“How many people can?”
“What?” Renie regarded Judith with curiosity, but there
was no chance for an explanation. Ava entered the kitchen,
looking somewhat sheepish.
“My bombshell has sent everyone back to the bar,” she
said. “Margo didn’t help things, either. I had to get away.
Let me help clean up.”
“Go ahead, coz, take a breather,” Judith responded, still
sounding unlike herself.
Renie looked uncertain, but headed for the lobby. Judith
and Ava returned to the dining room. It was a shambles,
with overturned chairs, spilled wine, and scattered food littering the tablecloth and floor.
“They were very upset,” Ava said in apology. “No one who
knows Alan Roth—except Margo—can believe he’s qualified
to run WaCom.”
Judith began collecting dirty plates. “Andrea must have
known about this, don’t you think?”
“Probably,” Ava agreed, picking up silverware. “She and
Alan had their problems, but they were still married. If he
was about to be given a big job like the one at WaCom, he
must have discussed it with her.”
“But Andrea didn’t tell Frank,” Judith pointed out, heading
back to the kitchen.
“Obviously not.” Ava had grown thoughtful. “Nadia was
right—a merger will mean cutbacks and layoffs and all the
rest of it. Andrea would know that, which means…” She
stopped, staring at the silverware she’d just put into the
dishwasher.
“What?” Judith asked.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 197
Ava’s expression was wry. “Where did Nadia get all that
information she was spouting at the dinner table? Especially
the old stuff about Gene and Max and Russell? She was
about to start in on me, as well. Where did she get her data,
and why bring it up now?”
Judith thought back to the conversation, though the word
was only a euphemism for wrangling. “Frank was needling
people, too. Surely military records would be common
knowledge.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Ava said. “People lie on their
resumes, they omit things they’d rather not have in their files,
they add accomplishments that didn’t happen. But somewhere along the way, particularly when someone is being
considered for a big promotion, a company will do a background check. It’s usually done by the security people who
fall under human resources at OTIOSE.” Ava gave Judith a
meaningful look.
“So Andrea would have been privy to all the dirt?” Judith
asked.
Ava nodded. “That, and what she’d pick up from rumor
scavengers like Barry Newcombe. But my point is, why now?
Did Andrea bring her files with her? Did Nadia get a look
at them and pass the information on to Frank?”
Judith tried to recall what she and Renie had found in
Andrea’s room. There had been personnel files, but they had
been so thick that the cousins hadn’t taken time to peruse
them. Judith, however, couldn’t admit as much to Ava; no
one must know they’d searched Andrea’s belongings.
“If that’s true,” Judith temporized, “Nadia must have found
those files after Andrea died.”
Ava gave a single nod. “The question is, how soon after
she died?”
Judith’s eyes widened. “You think Nadia is the killer?”
Ava made a helpless gesture with her hands. “No. Not
really. Unless…” She bit her lower lip.
“Unless what?”
198 / Mary Daheim
“Nothing. It’s all so…difficult.” Ava started for the dining
room. “Let’s finish cleaning up this mess.”
Judith decided she might as well change topics. “You
started in on Nadia’s background,” she remarked, removing
glassware from the table. “I take it you weren’t referring to
the personnel files.”
“I wasn’t,” Ava responded. “The story I’ve heard is that
Frank met Nadia when he went back for his tour of duty at
AT&T. It used to be that anyone from the associated companies who was on the rise spent a couple of years at
headquarters in New York. Nadia was a clerk-typist in what
they called the plant department then. Frank was already
married, but his wife didn’t move to New York with him.
Patrice Killegrew came from a wealthy family, and could afford to fly back and forth to join him for long weekends.
They had children in school, and she didn’t see any point in
uprooting them and moving back east for what would be a
relatively short time. As you might guess, the inevitable
happened.”
Judith kept pace with Ava as they walked back to the kitchen. “Frank and Nadia had an affair.”
“Exactly. It wasn’t a mere f
ling, it was serious,” Ava continued. “But as I said, Frank and Patrice had small children,
and she was rich. Not only that, but in those days, divorce
was frowned on by the upper echelon. Potential officer candidates were supposed to be solid citizens, untouched by
scandal. Frank couldn’t possibly dump Patrice.”
“So he brought Nadia with him when he was sent back to
the West Coast,” Judith said.
“That’s right. He promoted her every time he moved on,
and eventually she became his administrative assistant.” Ava
turned rueful. “I’ve often wondered if he did her any real favor. She might have been a bigger success on her own.”
Judith didn’t understand. “Meaning—what?”
Ava turned on the dishwasher, then leaned against it.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 199
“Nadia came along at a time when women were beginning
to rise in the Bell System. Oh, sure, there’s still a glass ceiling
and all that, but she’s smart, she has drive, she’s got the
makings of a good manager. Sometimes I feel she really runs
the company instead of Frank.”
“That crossed my mind, but I don’t know much about the
corporate world. Tell me,” Judith went on, recalling how
frantic Nadia had been when she thought Frank had had a
heart attack, “are they still…intimate?”
“Define intimate.” Ava laughed, a faintly jarring sound.
“Let’s put it this way—Nadia is more of a wife to him than
Patrice ever was. You can see that from the way they behave.
She does everything for him. And if you’re referring to sex,
my guess is that they still have that, too. Patrice is a very
cold woman.”
“Nadia’s not exactly warm and fuzzy,” Judith noted.
“You haven’t met Patrice. She could give those icicles
outside a run for their money.”
“But…Frank and Patrice stay married?” Judith couldn’t
keep the question out of her voice.
“Of course.” Ava’s manner was ironic. “If Patrice knows
about the relationship between Frank and Nadia, she ignores
it. Mrs. Killegrew—and it is definitely Mrs.—enjoys being
the wife of a CEO. Money and status are her substitutes for
love and sex. Besides, Frank could never risk a divorce.”
“Times have changed, though. Unfortunately,” Judith added.
“Not so much in the old boy network,” Ava said. “For the
most part, Frank’s peer group is still extremely conservative
and old-fashioned.”
“Well.” Judith tried to absorb everything Ava had told her.
The folded piece of paper with the notation about Hukle,
Hukle, & Huff didn’t necessarily indicate that a Killegrew
divorce was in the offing. And while Ava’s account of Frank’s
domestic triangle was interesting, Andrea’s personnel files
might have a more immediate bearing on the week- 200 / Mary Daheim
end’s events. Had Max been looking for them? How and
when had Nadia slipped away to Andrea’s room?
The folded piece of paper. It suddenly dawned on Judith
why it was important. “Ava,” she said as the other woman
started back for the dining room, “how long were you in the
bathroom with Nadia this afternoon?”
“What?” Ava looked at Judith as if she were crazy.
Judith felt embarrassed. “I don’t mean…It sounds stupid,
but…Really, I have a very good reason to ask.”
Ava’s expression grew serious. “Are you talking about the
time period when Ward was killed?”
“More or less, yes.”
“Oh, let me think.” Ava cocked her head to one side. “Five
minutes? I don’t know. However long it takes. I’m not much
for primping.”
“Are you sure it didn’t take longer than five minutes?” Judith persisted.
“Yes.” Ava now seemed more definite. “Ask Nadia. She
was with me. We were chatting between the stalls. I suppose
we each wanted to make sure the other one was okay.”
Judith’s bright idea was dashed. “Before that, you were
with Gene in the library, right?”
Ava was starting to look vexed. “Yes, I was. And no, I
won’t answer any more questions about that.”
Judith gave up. In silence, the two women cleared away
the dirty tablecloth, swept the floor, and finished tidying the
kitchen. As Ava was about to leave, Judith apologized.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be impertinent. I was only
trying to figure out who was where when Ward was
murdered.”
Ava gave Judith a tired smile. “We’re all trying to figure
that out. Frankly, it’s impossible.”
Judith frowned. “Why do you say that?”
Ava began ticking off the names on her fingers. “Margo
and Russell had gone to the basement with you and your
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 201
cousin. But after they came back to the lobby, Margo went
to find Frank. Nobody knows where Russell was at that
point, though he claims to have stayed put. But how long
did it take before Margo met up with Frank? What was he
doing while Nadia was heading for the restroom? What was
Nadia doing after she left Frank? And what took Max so
long to figure out that Ward was taking forever to change?
Don’t you see? Only Gene and I can alibi each other.”
Given what appeared to be a romantic relationship
between Ava and Gene, Judith didn’t think that was much
of an alibi. “You can’t alibi Gene while you were in the restroom,” Judith said.
Ava’s face fell. “You’re right. I can’t.”
As far as Judith could see, nobody had an alibi.
Ava obviously agreed. “You were with your cousin?”
“Yes, in the kitchen.”
“See what I mean?” Ava said with an ironic smile.
She was right, Judith thought. The cousins didn’t have
much of an alibi, either.
No one seemed inclined to stay up late that night. Russell
and Ava were the first to announce that they were headed
for bed. Gene and Margo followed. Nadia badgered Frank
to get his rest; he’d had a very trying day, she said.
“Is she kidding?” Max snarled after the pair had gone upstairs in the elevator. “This is worse than ’Nam! At least over
there you knew who the enemy was. Well,” he added, staring
at the floor, “most of the time you did.”
“How’s your head?” Judith asked.
Max fingered his smooth pate. “Okay. Margo didn’t hit
me very hard. I suppose it was only fair after I whacked
Russell with that damned carving.”
Judith had decided that a frontal attack was best. “Were
you looking for Andrea’s personnel files this afternoon?”
Max’s chin jutted, then he slumped against the sofa. “Yes,
but I never even saw them. Everything had been
202 / Mary Daheim
cleaned out except her notes and a daily planner.”
“Does the phrase ‘Scandinavian wheat-thrasher’ mean
anything to you?” Judith inquired.
At first, Max looked puzzled. Then he held his head. “It
means my ass,” he said, then peered at Judith between his
fingers
. “How did you know?”
Renie edged forward on the footstool. “We found the
folder in the conference room yesterday. We put it here, on
the coffee table. Somebody must have picked it up.”
“It’s not mine,” Max said, his long arms dropping to his
sides. “It’s got to be somebody in my department, so I’ll take
the fall. That damned file’s been missing for over a year.”
Judith sat up very straight. “How do you know if it’s not
yours?”
“Because,” Max explained, cracking his knuckles, “I found
it back then when I was going through some year-end stuff
for the annual report. I’d guessed something like that was
going on, but I wasn’t sure who was responsible. In marketing, we entertain a lot of outsiders. Somebody wanted to go
beyond wining and dining to win new clients. I left the file
where I found it with a note to see me, ASAP. All these
months, nothing happened. Then, last night, Andrea started
making hints about ‘prostituting ourselves’ and ‘women who
took things lying down.’ She kept looking at me, and I realized she must know. There was no chance to talk to her
alone, so I went to her room last night. She wasn’t there. I
had no idea she was waiting for Leon in his room. That’s
when you must have seen me in the corridor.”
Judith felt surprise register, but desperately tried not to let
it show. “Last night. Yes, that’s what we must have seen.”
She flashed a warning glance at Renie.
Max stretched his long legs out towards the hearth. “I
suppose she was going to show the file to Frank. Or maybe
she was just going to hold it over my head. Blackmail comes
in some weird forms.”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 203
“Why would Andrea want to blackmail you?” Renie asked.
“Well…” Max seemed genuinely puzzled. “I honestly don’t
know. Like everybody else in the company, she felt marketing
types aren’t real telecommunications people. We’re mavericks, and as vice president, I get to wear the black sheep label.
Plus, my wife, Carrie, and I’ve been having some problems.
We fight a lot, we always have. Carrie hates company functions. She’s a master gardener and has her own career.
Playing the part of corporate helpmate makes her puke. As
you might guess, a wife with an attitude really pisses off
women like Patrice Killegrew. It pissed off Andrea, too. She
liked to fit everybody into their own little niche.”