by Mary Daheim
“Better than blowing a hole through Uncle Corky.” Ju- SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 265
dith gazed at the gun. “Is it really loaded?”
Renie checked the chambers. “Yes, ma’am. And so’s Frank.
Now what?”
Judith squared her shoulders. “Now we nail him. This may
be our finest hour.”
She didn’t say that it could also be their last.
NINETEEN
FRANK KILLEGREW WAS sulking. “Sh’almost shix,” he
mumbled. “Who drinksh coffee at shix? Time for martoonis
and shotch. Cocktail time, cockroach hour, cock-a-doodledoo!”
“Chicken if you don’t,” Judith said with forced cheer.
“Frank, I’d like to talk to you for a minute. Do you mind?
Dinner’s almost ready.”
“I’m the cock of the walk,” Killegrew declared, trying to
get up off the sofa. “I can do anything I damned well…” He
fell back, but was given a hand by Max.
“There you go, Frank,” Max said. “I think you’ve got a
customer with a complaint. Turn on the service-is-us charm,
okay? You big dumb moron,” Max added under his breath.
“Customer? Complaint?” Glassy-eyed, Killegrew gazed at
Judith. “So what’s the problem, little lady? Not enough lines?
Interference on toll calls? Equipment not up to Western
Electric standards? Well, let me tell you, ever since we started
letting those little yellow people over there in Chinkville build
phones, we’ve had…”
“Frank!” Margo screamed right into the CEO’s ear. “Stop
it! You’re the most bigoted man I ever met!”
“Hey!” Killegrew whirled on Margo. “I hired you, didn’t
I? And Gene and Ava and…and a bunch of
266
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 267
other ethnic types. Get off my back before I fire your scrawny
Asian ass!”
“I already quit!” Margo yelled back. “You’re a disgrace,
Frank! You embarrass everyone, especially yourself!”
“Awww…” Killegrew waved a hand in disgust. “Got to see
what this little lady wants. Need to set things straight. Service, that’s what counts. Where’s m’ slide rule?”
Judith finally got Killegrew into the elevator. She was filled
with doubts about her proposed plan. In the CEO’s current
inebriated state, she wondered if he’d even remember his
terrible crimes, let alone be incited to act in a manner that
would incriminate him.
“I thought,” Judith said in an uncertain voice as they moved
slowly down the second-floor corridor, “we might speak
privately in your room. I’d prefer not to have anyone overhear what I have to say.”
“Privacy,” Killegrew murmured, his speech no longer
slurred. “Confidential. No letters to the editor, no complaints
to the state utilities commission, no calls to the FCC. That’s
the way it ought to be, just one-on-one, as if you were a real
person.”
“Yes,” Judith agreed, though Killegrew’s ramblings weren’t
uppermost in her mind. “Here we go—your room, right?”
“My room. My corner room. My beds. My…stuff.” He
staggered inside, allowing Judith to close the door behind
them.
“Well.” Judith put her hands together in a prayerful attitude. “Do you remember when my cousin and I told you
about our insurance?”
“Insurance?” Killegrew’s expression was puzzled. “Wait a
minute—are you selling insurance?”
Judith shook her head. This wasn’t going to be easy, she
thought. Maybe she had miscalculated. “I’m speaking of the
insurance we have regarding the killer. We know who has
killed all these people, Mr. Killegrew.” She paused,
268 / Mary Daheim
taking a deep breath. “We know it was you.”
Frank Killegrew’s gray eyes narrowed. And then he
laughed. It was a hearty sound, full-bodied and rich. “That’s
good! I killed Andrea and Leon and Ward! That’s damned
good! Ha-ha!”
“You left out Barry.” Judith’s tone was solemn.
“Barry?” Briefly, Killegrew again looked puzzled. “Oh, that
clerk. He was queer. I don’t get it. Why do people want to
be queer?”
Judith wasn’t about to explain homosexuality to Frank
Killegrew. Indeed, she was beginning to think she couldn’t
explain anything to him. “You didn’t kill Nadia,” she said,
hoping to strike close to the heart. “She killed herself because
she couldn’t bear to see what would happen to you when
you were found out. She really loved you, Frank. And, in
your own weird way, I think you loved her.”
“Nadia.” Killegrew spoke the name with a certain reverence.
“What’ll I do without her?”
“Life, with no possibility of parole,” Judith retorted. “You’re
crazy, Frank, drunk on power and prestige.”
Killegrew tipped his head to one side. “Well…I am a little
drunk. But you’re the crazy one.” He held the slide rule in
one hand and tapped it against his leg as his gray eyes
hardened. “Your insurance isn’t worth ten cents. Where’s
your proof?”
With a flash of insight, Judith glanced at the slide rule. “In
your hand. You used that stupid slide rule to garrote Barry
and Ward by twisting the leather thong and the belt around
their necks. Oh, I’ll admit it would be impossible to prove
in court. But circumstantial evidence is admissible, Frank.
You’ll be charged and brought to trial. Any hope you’ve had
of staying on as CEO is doomed. The other members of the
board will vote you out even before you’re due to retire. It’s
over, Frank. You’re cooked.”
“Uh-uh.” Killegrew swung his head from side to side, and
suddenly he looked quite sober. It dawned on Judith
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 269
that maybe the wily CEO hadn’t been drunk in the first place.
“You’re cooked,” Killegrew roared, raising the slide rule and
starting to bring it down on Judith’s head.
Judith ducked, feeling the slide rule cut into the air above
her. Killegrew was a big, powerful man in more ways than
one. Judith knew she couldn’t elude him for very long. Where
were the park rangers?
“Coz!” she yelled as Killegrew swung again and she felt
her hair being ruffled.
The door burst open. Two national park service rangers
stood on the threshold, their weapons drawn. Killegrew
turned around, then dropped the slide rule. “Thank God!”
he shouted. “This woman was trying to kill me!”
“Let’s all calm down,” said the older and taller of the
rangers. “What’s going on here?”
Killegrew moved swiftly to the two men, putting a hand
on each of their shoulders. “Frank Killegrew, president and
CEO of OTIOSE. By God, I’m glad to see you! This woman
is a crazed customer who thinks that Martians have invaded
her telephone system. It happens all the time. Take her away,
boys!”
The taller officer, whose name tag read “R. Westervelt,”
stared at J
udith. “Who are you?” Westervelt asked.
“Judith Flynn, the caterer. But I…”
“The caterer!” Killegrew roared with laughter. “You
see—these people will use any excuse to come after the phone
company! My God, we’ve been a target of every crank and
crackpot for years! If your life is all screwed up and you’re
playing with a half a deck, go after the phone company! It’s
an easy target, we’re under government scrutiny! Would you
like to see our nut file? It’s full of people like her!”
Westervelt turned to his partner, a square-built young man
with crinkly red hair. “Nunnally, we’ve got a situation.”
Nunnally nodded. “Didn’t somebody mention bodies?”
270 / Mary Daheim
Returning his gun to its holster, Westervelt looked at Judith. “On the phone, someone referred to possible homicides.
Where are the victims?”
“All over the…” Judith began, but was interrupted by Killegrew.
“Victims? Now, now,” he bellowed, shaking a finger at
Judith who was trying to peer into the hall in hopes of
catching sight of Renie, “that’s an exaggeration, isn’t it?
We’ve had a couple of nasty accidents. Look, fellows,” he
continued, putting an arm around each of the officers, “you
don’t have to get mixed up in this. I’ve already got a call in
to the chief of police in town. He’s flying back from Hawaii,
and he’ll get everything straightened out. We may be on
your turf, but it isn’t really your responsibility. Why make
trouble for yourselves? Eh?” He gave each of the officers a
nudge.
“Well…” Westervelt looked again at Nunnally. “This is
our jurisdiction.”
“So?” Killegrew seemed amused. “You’re in the business
of stolen skis and drunken picnickers and people who pick
wildflowers and attacks by bad-tempered bears. This is phone
company business, big city stuff, and we’ll sort it out with
the chief.” Killegrew winked. “He’s a pal—know what I
mean?”
Westervelt’s long face was a mask of uncertainty.
“That’s…fine, but we still need to check out any complaints…”
“Complaints!” Killegrew threw his head back and roared
with laughter. “That’s it! Complaints! You can’t get half as
many as I do! See here, fellows, we’ll turn this poor soul
over to our p.r. vice president and get everything squared
away. Ms. Chang knows how to handle these people. Now
how about coming down to the lobby and having an adult
beverage or two?”
Westervelt cleared his throat. “Well…sorry, we can’t do
that, sir. We’re on duty. But maybe we should talk to the
others.”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 271
Killegrew slapped Westervelt on the back. “Good idea!
They’ll set you straight.” Halfway to the door he stopped
and turned back to Judith. “What about her? Shouldn’t you
arrest her now before she does something really dangerous?”
The officers exchanged dubious glances. “Well…” Westervelt scratched an ear. “We really should search the lodge
in case the homicide story is true. Meanwhile, are you
pressing charges against this woman, sir?”
“You bet!” Killegrew snapped his fingers. “Assault, attempted murder, whatever it takes! My God, I’m lucky to be
alive!”
Judith bridled. “Wait a minute! This is absurd! He’s the
one who tried to attack me! He’s the one who murdered four
people and caused the death of another one! He’s a maniac,
a psychotic, a man without a conscience!” Frantically, Judith
tried to look out into the hall. Where the hell was Renie?
Killegrew was chuckling indulgently. “You see? She’s raving. They always do. Come on fellows, let’s put this plane
in the hangar. Haul her away, and we’ll keep in touch.”
Killegrew started to leave the room, but Westervelt detained him. “Sir,” Westervelt said in a deferential tone, “hold
on just a minute. We have two other rangers downstairs.
Let’s wait here for them. They can take the prisoner to our
vehicle.”
The CEO rocked impatiently on his heels, the slide rule
protruding from his back pocket. “What?” Killegrew frowned.
“Oh, yes, why not? If there’s been any trouble around here,
she caused it.”
“Shall I cuff her?” Nunnally asked, reaching for his belt
where a pair of handcuffs dangled.
“Well…Okay, that sounds right.” Westervelt gave an ambiguous nod.
“Hey!” Judith put both hands behind her back and re- 272 / Mary Daheim
treated to the window. “This is a terrible mistake! How can
you believe him and not me?”
The officers again looked at each other, but it was Killegrew who spoke. “Because you’re nobody. And I’m OTIOSE!”
“Well…He’s right, you know,” Westervelt said to Judith.
“Mr. Killegrew is a well-known businessman. I’ve even seen
him on TV.”
“You’re darn tootin’,” Killegrew said. “Come on, come on,
let’s get going.”
“But…” Judith felt miserable, frustrated, depleted. Was it
really impossible to combat Frank Killegrew’s corporate
reputation and civic image? Was he actually above the law?
Was Judith really a nobody?
Though Nunnally looked vaguely apologetic, he grasped
Judith by the forearms and forced her to turn around. She
flinched, hearing the click of the handcuffs. But before the
officer could lock them in place, she heard an unexpected,
yet familiar voice call to her.
“Mom!”
“Mike!” Surprise and shock made Judith limp. She gaped
at her son, then turned to the others. “You see?” she said in
a voice that shook with emotion. “I am somebody after all.
I’m his mother.”
Renie, who had been hiding Margo’s gun under a dishtowel to prevent the rightful owner from attacking her, was
right behind Mike. “He’d been told to stay in the lobby with
the others because he’s not a law enforcement ranger,” Renie
explained, tossing the towel aside. “When none of you came
downstairs, I had a heck of a time convincing his partner
that we ought to see what was happening.”
While mother and son embraced, Frank Killegrew
blustered. Judith’s newly found cachet of giving birth to a
park ranger lent her credibility. Nunnally went up to the third
floor to see if there really were bodies stashed in the dormer
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 273
rooms. Westervelt found Nadia lying on Leon’s bed, then
called for backup and several ambulances. Killegrew continued to bluster.
Mike, who had been filled in on the situation by his aunt,
spoke sharply to the CEO. “The less you say, mister, the
better. I may not be a police officer, but at least I know that
much. Stick it, will you? You’re getting on my nerves.”
Killegrew looked astonished. “You! You’re just a punk
kid! Do you know who you’re talking to?”
Mike turned to Renie. “Who’d you say this guy was?”
Judith regarded Killegrew with
unconcealed loathing. “He’s
a captain whose ship has been torpedoed. He may not admit
it, but he’s just about to hit rock bottom.”
Renie started to say something, but Killegrew hurled
himself between her and Mike. Wrenching the gun out of
Renie’s hand, he flew into the bathroom. Mike started after
him, but it was too late. A sharp report and a flash of light
stunned them all. Killegrew’s body fell to the floor with a
sickening thud.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Renie whispered, crossing
herself.
“Don’t look,” Mike ordered, and kicked the bathroom door
shut.
Judith had slumped onto one of the twin beds. “I’m…sick,”
she said in a weak voice.
Westervelt and Nunnally came rushing in from the corridor
where they’d been conferring about the carnage the younger
officer had found upstairs. Mike assumed responsibility,
succinctly explaining what had just occurred.
“Maybe he was guilty,” Westervelt said in amazement. “My
God!”
Nunnally offered Judith his apologies. “I’m kind of new
on the job, ma’am, and when you run into some big, important guy like Mr. Killegrew, you tend to…ah…um…”
Judith was trying to pull herself together. “I know, I
274 / Mary Daheim
know. You tend to think he’s right because he’s got a corner
office. Don’t worry, you’ll learn better as you get older.
Power and privilege have absolutely nothing to do with virtue
and goodness.” She turned a wan face to Mike. “Can we get
out of here?”
“Sure.” Mike gave his mother a hand and raised her from
the bed. “You’ll probably have to answer a bunch of questions, though.”
“Not here,” Judith said with a definite shake of her head.
“Anywhere but here. Park headquarters, the ski lodge at the
summit, a gopher hole—I don’t care, just so it’s not here. I
don’t ever want to see this place or what’s left of these people
again.”
Mike grinned, the slightly off-center, engaging expression
that Judith loved so well. “I don’t blame you. It must have
been quite a weekend. Hey, Aunt Renie, would you really
have used that gun if you’d…”
The caterer, the graphic designer, and the park ranger
quickly cleared the cousins’ belongings out of the guest room
across the hall. Ten minutes later, they were in Mike’s official