by Mary Daheim
the boat. Not to worry, Rudy, old man, we’re managing.”
“Frank!” Judith recognized Margo’s anguished cry.
“He has to know.” Gene’s voice could barely be distinguished.
“I don’t like this,” Russell muttered. “He has a gun.”
“What Rudy needs is a drink,” Killegrew declared. “Come
on, let’s adjourn to the lobby. I wouldn’t pass up a stiff shot
of Scotch myself.”
Judith heard voices muttering and feet shuffling. The
sounds died away. “Let’s cut back through the kitchen and
listen from the dining room,” Judith whispered.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 249
Just as they entered the kitchen, the phone rang. Renie
sprang for it, catching the receiver before the final “brrng”
stopped.
“Joe!” Renie cried. “Thank God! Here, I’ll let you talk to
Judith!”
Judith suddenly felt close to tears. “Where are you? Arlene
said…Never mind, is everything all right?”
“Yeah, it is now,” Joe replied, though he sounded harried.
“Woody and I finally got somebody with a four-wheel drive
to get us out of that place by the lake. What’s going on with
you? Are you stranded up there?”
“Yes,” Judith answered. “It’s raining, though. Maybe we
can get out tomorrow.” She took a deep breath. “Meanwhile,
there’s something you should know.”
“If it’s about that body you found, forget it,” Joe said,
sounding increasingly irritable. “The deputy chief talked to
some bozo or some bimbo up there Friday, and that accidental death you mentioned isn’t our problem. Have them call
the park service. They have jurisdiction.”
“Oh. That’s good. I’ll tell them right away.” Judith took
another deep breath. “While we’re on the subject, I should
come clean about…”
“Clean? Sorry, somebody’s trying to talk to me at this end.
Hold on.” Joe must have put his hand over the receiver; Judith could hear only muffled voices. “Yeah, I need clean underwear,” he said, coming back on the line. “Your goofy
cleaning woman didn’t come Friday because she was afraid
it would snow. I couldn’t find any dark socks yesterday.
Where does she put the clean stuff after it comes out of the
dryer?”
Judith always marveled at her husband’s inability to find
any of his belongings, even when they were right under his
nose. Or, as had occasionally happened, in his hands.
“Phyliss,” she said, referring to her daily help, “keeps three
separate baskets in the basement. The blue one is for the
B&B laundry, the green is for our personal linens and tow- 250 / Mary Daheim
els, and she puts our clothes in the yellow one. They should
all be lined up by the washer and dryer, which, in case you’ve
forgotten, is in the basement laundry room.”
“Hey!” Joe barked. “What’s with the sarcasm? I not only
get called in on a weekend, I get stuck with a stiff in a house
that hardly has any food in it. Plus, I have to share a bed
with the M.E. who snores like a steam engine and smells
like…well, like an M.E. Woody was smart—he grabbed one
of the twin beds in the master bedroom.”
“Why didn’t you take the other one?” Judith asked.
“Because the stiff was lying on it.” Joe sounded as if he
were gnashing his teeth.
“Oh.” Judith’s urge to tell Joe about the other murders
faded. “I’m sorry about that. Really. Will you be able to get
home?”
“I don’t know.” Joe now sounded glum. “Even with fourwheel drive, it’s almost impossible to get up Heraldsgate
Hill in snow this deep.”
“Maybe we’ll both be home by tomorrow,” Judith said
with what she hoped was optimism.
“Maybe.” Joe obviously wasn’t convinced. “I’ve got to go.
There’s a pile of paperwork on my desk.”
“Okay. Be careful. Please.”
“Right. You, too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” Joe rang off.
“He’s in a bad mood,” Judith said, replacing the receiver
and looking for the telephone directory, which he finally
found under a turkey roaster.
“He’d be in a worse one if you’d told him about the other
bodies,” Renie pointed out. “Who’d he say to call?”
“The park service.” Judith ran her finger down the listings
under federal government. “Here’s the number.”
Renie’s round face was troubled. “Why you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s their problem.” Renie jerked a thumb over her
shoulder. “Tell them to call. Why get involved?”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 251
“We are involved,” Judith countered. “We’ll be questioned,
we’ll have to give statements.”
“So? Deal with that when the time comes. But for now,
have one of the survivors out there call. Better yet, tell Mannheimer. He’s the caretaker, it’s his job.”
Judith put the receiver back in its cradle. “Okay, I will.
Let’s see how the rest of them are faring.”
They weren’t faring particularly well. Having reopened
the liquor bottles, the distraught OTIOSE executives had
now degenerated into a maudlin state. Frank Killegrew was
feeling very sentimental and was exchanging old war stories
with Rudy Mannheimer, who appeared to have gotten drunk
rather quickly.
“…out on patrol…cold as a well-digger’s…then these gooks
came…” Killegrew’s voice was lost in a maundering mumble.
“Gooks?” Margo sounded indignant, though she lacked her
usual fire. “What kind of language is that?”
“Slopes,” Mannheimer said, his voice thick with whiskey.
“North Korean S.O.B.s. Hell, honey, you’re too young. You
don’t know nothin’.”
Judith and Renie were hiding next to the French doors
that led to the lobby. They could hear, but not see the
speakers.
“Screw Korea,” Max declared. “That was a picnic compared
to ’Nam. Jungle, heat, bugs, civilians loaded with grenades…”
“Bull,” Mannheimer retorted. “You ain’t fought a war till
you freeze your nummies off at Pyongyang.”
“War’s horrible,” Ava said, her voice shaking with conviction. “Killing is horrible. Death is horrible. Life is…horrible.”
The cousins heard footsteps hurrying from the lobby.
“Ava,” Judith breathed. “Let’s head her off.”
Judith and Renie ran back through the dining room, the
kitchen and the laundry room. Down the hall, they could
see Ava getting into the elevator. The cousins raced up the
252 / Mary Daheim
backstairs, arriving just as Ava stepped out onto the second
floor.
“Don’t!” Judith yelled. “Wait!”
Ava ran, too, heading for her room which was two doors
down from the elevator. She nipped inside, but couldn’t close
the door before Judith put a shoulder against the solid pine.
“Stop it, Ava!” Judith commanded. “Let us in! Please! Don’t
do anything else foolish!”
Ava and Ju
dith were about the same size and build. As
each woman put her weight on opposite sides of the door,
it appeared that the younger and more physically fit Ava had
the advantage. But Judith had Renie. The cousins finally
managed to triumph.
Ava turned a ravaged face on her pursuers. “Why do you
want to stop me? It’s none of your business!”
“Yes, it is.” Judith spoke through taut lips. “Unlike the rest
of you, we’re not indifferent to the sufferings of other people.
Besides, OTIOSE got us mixed up in all this. We couldn’t
get out of here free and clear if we wanted to.”
Ava, who had been backing away from the cousins, shook
her head. “I don’t care. It still has nothing to do with you.
Not really. Leave me alone.”
“No.” For emphasis, Judith sat down on one of the twin
beds while Renie closed the door. “Why waste your life? It’s
not worth it. OTIOSE isn’t worth it, and,” Judith went on,
raising her voice, “neither is Frank Killegrew.”
Ava’s dark eyes widened. “It’s not about Frank!” she
shouted.
“Oh, yes it is,” Judith said. “You know it is. It’s always
been about Frank. Given what I’ve come to understand about
the corporate world, it couldn’t be about anybody or anything else.”
“You know?” The words were whispered as Ava collapsed
into one of the armchairs.
Judith nodded. “I didn’t really figure it out until today,
when I saw how Frank reacted to Nadia’s death. He was
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 253
truly devastated. I realized then that Nadia had in fact killed
herself. She’d taken the sleeping pills along with the gin and
committed suicide.”
“No!” Ava covered her face with her hands.
“Yes.” Judith nodded solemnly. “And you were about to
do the same thing. How, Ava? With a broken glass to slash
your wrists?”
Slowly, Ava’s hands fell away. “How did you guess?”
“There aren’t any more lethal medications around—that I
know of—and I didn’t think you could wrest Margo’s gun
away from her. You might have had better luck with Mannheimer’s rifle, though it would have caused a scene.” Judith
paused, waiting for Ava to regain some measure of calm.
“Do me a favor, will you? May I see your neck?”
Ava’s hands flew to the big collar of her blue sweater. “Oh!
How…? You couldn’t have…” She saw the determination
on Judith’s face and slowly pulled the collar down to reveal
dark bruises.
Judith nodded. “When you loaned me your clothes, you
insisted that I take the red outfit, which had a much lowercut neckline than either the blue one you’re wearing now or
the green one you wore earlier. It was a small but curious
point. Then I remembered that Friday, in the conference
room, Renie and I overheard something. We thought it was
lovemaking, but that was far from the truth. You were being
strangled by the same person who killed the others. At that
point, you suspected that Barry Newcombe was dead even
though we hadn’t yet found the body. You had a good idea
about who had killed him. Tell me, Ava, how did you get
Frank Killegrew to stop?”
For a long, tense moment Ava didn’t answer. At last she
got up and went to the honor bar where she took out a can
of fruit juice. “I told him OTIOSE couldn’t survive without
me. That meant he couldn’t survive, either.” Ava turned a
dreary face to the cousins, then sat down again. “I had my
informants, I not only knew the changes OTIOSE would
254 / Mary Daheim
have to make in the future, but what WaCom and many of
the other companies planned to do to beat the competition.
Most of all, I could accomplish these goals for OTIOSE. I’d
also learned about the pending WaCom merger, and while
I didn’t tell him outright then, I’d hinted that it might come
up soon. Frank realized I was indispensable.” Ava made a
rueful face.
“None of the old-line telephone types have my background
in computers,” she continued. “Russell deals with ideas for
applications and products, what customers need and want,
rather than the actual means of making these things possible
through technology. Frank’s never understood the whole
computer concept—he’s still living in the sixties. Anyway,
he tried to pass off his attack as a fit of temper. Maybe he
heard you outside the conference room—I had no idea anyone was there, I was too horrified. But something suddenly
stopped him. That was when he promised me Ward’s job.”
Renie, who had settled into the other armchair, nodded.
“A bribe. But what about Ward?”
Ava leaned her head back in the chair. “The implication
was that Ward would succeed to the corner office. But I knew
better. Frank wasn’t going anywhere, he had no intention
of retiring. His whole scheme was to get the by-laws changed
and stay on for at least another five years. Frank, you see,
couldn’t let go of OTIOSE. It was his company, he’d founded
it, he’d staked everything he had on its survival.”
“And something he didn’t have,” Judith said wryly. “Money.
He’d used his wife’s fortune to bankroll OTIOSE, hadn’t
he? Is that why Patrice was going to divorce him?”
Ava sighed. “I’m not sure about that. Andrea and Patrice
were rather close. They’d gotten together several times lately,
apparently so Patrice could vent her rage.”
Judith thought back to Andrea’s daily planner noting the
luncheon and dinner dates with the boss’s wife. Though
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 255
Patrice Killegrew was a shadowy figure, Judith could imagine
the woman’s fury.
Ava continued. “Andrea told me that Patrice only recently
discovered how little money she had left. Mrs. Killegrew was
the kind of corporate wife who did nothing for herself. A
housekeeper, cook, maid, chauffeur—the whole bit, including,
of course, financial advisors to handle her fortune. The Killegrews could afford all the help they wanted, because in the
beginning, they relied on her wealth, and later, when Frank
became a CEO, his base salary was around three hundred
thousand a year. But Patrice’s mistake was letting Frank hire
the advisors in the first place. In effect, he handled her
money, and ended up robbing her blind. When she found
out—I think it was at the end of the year when she actually
got off her elegant behind to talk to their accountant—she
went crazy. Patrice couldn’t bear to be poor. It was one thing
to have Frank be unfaithful to their marriage, it was something else for him to steal from her. I guess she threw him
out.”
“I guess she did,” Judith said. “We found some notes Nadia
had written to herself. There were references to someone
moving. It wasn’t her—she’d lived forever in an apartment
above downtown, and still did, according to the address on
the sleeping pill pres
cription. Thus, I assumed that Frank
was the one who was moving, and the logical conclusion
was that his wife had given him the thumb. He also had an
appointment with a law firm that specializes in divorce. Gene
knew about that, didn’t he?”
Ava, who had taken a sip of her juice, looked startled.
“Yes, I told him. How did you guess?”
Judith gave a modest shrug. “The slip of paper I mentioned
that belonged to Nadia had been left in the women’s restroom on purpose. I thought at first it was used to jam your
stall. You recall that I asked how long you were in the bathroom?” Seeing Ava nod, Judith went on. “Then it occurred
to me that someone had purposely put the note on
256 / Mary Daheim
the floor of the restroom. It needn’t have been a woman. My
guess was Gene, because he’s an attorney and would realize
the significance of Frank’s appointment with Hukle, Hukle,
and Huff. Gene wanted everyone to know that Frank’s marriage was on the rocks, but because he’s such a cautious man,
he felt compelled to act in a covert manner.”
Ava looked impressed. “My God, I didn’t realize we’d
hired a sleuth as a caterer!”
Judith eschewed the compliment—if indeed that was what
had been intended. “Identifying the killer shouldn’t have
been too hard. In fact, I’m kicking myself for being so slow.
Everything pointed to Frank all along. But so many bits and
pieces only fell into place in the past few hours. Like Rudy
Mannheimer.”
“Rudy?” Renie and Ava both echoed the name, like a shrill
Greek chorus.
“That’s right,” Judith replied. “Frank’s personnel records
showed he was a Ranger in Korea. That was the old name
for Special Forces, which utilizes all sorts of dirty tricks, including a garrote. Sad to say, the Rangers were trained to
be ruthless killers. In fact, if I recall correctly, they themselves
suffered tremendous casualties in Korea. I suppose some of
them never quite got over the killer instinct—and the fear of
being killed.”
“Paranoia?” Renie put in. “Or self-defense? Bill would say
that in cases like Frank’s, where killing is not only legal, but
condoned by…”
“A bit of both,” Judith interrupted hastily before Renie
could go off on one of her tangents. “But we digress. Frank
used to be in partnership with the previous owners of
Mountain Goat Lodge. He and Rudy go back to Korea. Rudy