Snow Place to Die
Page 17
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But Judith had withdrawn to the other side of the room, where Renie stood with an inscrutable expression on her face.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.
“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?”
“You said yourself she’s wiry.” Judith sat down at the banquet table reserved for the conferees. “If you know how to use a garrote—I gather there’s an art to it—you need surprise rather than strength. In fact, it would be easy if the killer somehow first rendered the victim helpless. As for pushing Ward out the window, that would depend on where he was standing when it happened.”
“He was a fairly big guy,” Renie pointed out, sitting down next to Judith.
“Tall, yes, but lean and lanky. A hundred and sixty pounds, I’d guess. It could be done, even by someone like Nadia. The real question is, who flunked the buddy system?”
Renie’s eyes widened. “You’re right. Unless it was Max who was also alone in his room upstairs, somebody got loose.”
“I’ve been trying to think back to when we returned to the lobby after Max and Ward went upstairs to change. How long were we gone collecting towels in the supply room? Five, ten minutes at most?”
“About that,” Renie agreed. “But before we went there, we’d been in the basement getting more liquor.”
“That’s right.” Judith drummed her nails on the bare table. “Margo and Russell went with us. They took the bottles out to the lobby. Where we finally got there?”
Renie’s face fell. “I don’t remember. Nadia and Ava were coming out of the restroom, though.”
Judith nodded. “Have you ever noticed how long other women take to use a stall at a public restroom?”
Renie chuckled. “I figure they must be completely dressing and undressing. Maybe they put their clothes on backwards, and then switch them around. It beats me, but I sure get tired of standing in long lines at the theater or the opera or a ball game.”
“That’s what I mean,” Judith said. “It’s conceivable that a woman—let’s say Ava, just for the heck of it—could go into a stall at the same time as another woman—like Nadia—and come right out, leave the restroom, then return five, even ten minutes later, without the other woman knowing she was gone.”
“It’s a stretch,” Renie said with a frown.
“Try this—one of them says she forgot her purse. The other one is already in the stall. She waits, because she feels it’s safe, the other woman will be right back.”
“Okay, I’ll mark ‘slim’ by that one,” Renie conceded. “What about the rest of them?”
Judith concentrated on her memory of the lobby as she had seen it upon her return from the supply room. “Russell and Gene were talking by the library. But we know they hadn’t been together long because Russell had been with us in the basement. Who had been Gene’s buddy before that? Was he alone for a few minutes before Russell came along?”
Renie snapped her fingers. “Frank and Margo had gone to check on one of the conference rooms. That’s why they weren’t there.”
“You’re right, but nobody could see them. Did they stick together?” Judith made a face. “It’s impossible to figure out unless we interrogate them separately. That won’t be easy.”
“How about impossible? The buddy system, remember?”
Judith grimaced. “That’s true. You and I will have to be their buddies, I guess.”
“Gack.” Renie finished her Canadian whiskey. “You mean, we each take one of them aside and pump away?”
“You got it. It should be kind of subtle. I’ll take Margo, Ava, and Nadia. You get Frank, Max, and Gene. Russell’s up for grabs.”
“Hey!” Renie wagged a finger in Judith’s face. “How come you get all the women?”
“Because women can always talk to women, no matter what their backgrounds. On the other hand, men don’t open up so easily. But,” Judith went on in an attempt at flattery, “you’re used to corporate types. You have a knack.”
“Twit,” said Renie. “Don’t pull your soft soap act on me. I get the tough ones. Thus, you get Russell. He likes you best. You made him tea.”
“Fine.” Judith finished her Scotch and stood up. “Let’s go separate a couple of them from the herd.”
“How do we manage that?” Renie asked with a dubious expression.
Judith gazed in the direction of the kitchen. “I guess we’ll have to make dinner after all. I’ll cook, you mop.”
“Jeez.” Renie wasn’t pleased. “So I get Frank to help me swab the decks while you and Margo peel potatoes.”
Grinning, Judith tipped her head to one side. “I like that. Frank will like that. It’s right up his cliché alley.”
“No, thanks. I’ll ask Gene. Lawyers are used to cleaning up after other people.” Renie led the way back into the lobby.
At first, Margo was reluctant to join Judith. But after some coaxing, the p.r. vice president patted her suede bag and agreed to accompany Judith to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Renie managed to secure Gene’s help with what was becoming a rather alarming situation in the entranceway. The water was edging toward the near walls and creeping up on the Navajo rugs in the sitting area. Russell suggested that they search for an indoor-outdoor vacuum in the basement.
“Good thinking,” Renie said. “They must have something like that because of all the skiers trooping in and out. Come on, Gene, let’s go look.”
A sense of trepidation stole over Judith as she watched her cousin and Gene Jarman head for the basement. But she herself had been alone with Gene earlier. Nothing alarming had happened. Surely Renie was safe. The cousins had issued their insurance policy.
Margo seemed to be studying Judith closely. “I’m not much of a cook,” she said, still holding the suede bag. “Why me? Why not your cousin? Or Nadia?”
“My cousin and I are getting a bit sick of each other’s faces,” Judith said glibly. “As for Nadia, it seems to me that she always gets stuck with the grunt work. Why not spread it around?”
“Because I’m a vice president and Nadia’s not.” Abruptly, Margo looked contrite. “Sorry. That was arrogant. In any event, I don’t expect to be a vice president much longer.”
Judith was removing a dozen stuffed Cornish game hens from the freezer. “Here,” she said to Margo as she placed the frozen birds one by one on the counter. “You can unwrap these and tha
w them in the microwave. Dinner’s going to be a bit late.” She paused for just a fraction. “So you still plan to quit?”
“You bet. Whatever’s going on in this company is too gruesome for my tastes.” Margo finally put the suede bag down, but kept it close at hand. “Besides, this scandal could ruin OTIOSE. I don’t intend to stick around for the fallout.”
Judith shut the freezer. “You don’t think the company could survive if the story gets out?”
Margo opened her mouth to give a quick reply, then hesitated. “I’m not sure. There have been other phone company scandals over the years involving just about any sin you could imagine. You wouldn’t believe some of the wild stories, despite the pristine, even dull, cachet associated with the phrase ‘phone company.’ But underneath, there were the same rampant human emotions that exist in more flamboyant, glamorous corporations. Greed, ambition, sex—the whole gamut. Once in awhile they played out in some highly unusual—and ghastly—ways.”
Judith gave Margo a curious look. “I don’t ever recall reading about such things in the paper.”
Margo’s expression was ironic. “You wouldn’t. That’s what people like me get paid to do—cover it up. Oh, I’m not saying that the old telecommunications industry was rife with scandal, but given the millions of people who worked in it during the glory years, there was plenty that had to be swept under the corporate rug. Now, with divestiture, and the sprouting up of new companies all over the place, you have a whole new breed of so-called phone company people. They’re smarter, tougher, and much more ruthless.” Margo glanced at her suede bag. “This weekend proves my point.”
“Goodness,” said Judith, aghast. “Do you think power is what this is all about?”
“Yes.” Margo tucked her bag under one arm and carried four game hens to the microwave. “What else?”
Judith began uncovering the green bean and mushroom dish she had prepared at Hillside Manor. “Yet there’s a chance OTIOSE might survive?”
“It’s possible,” Margo allowed, waiting for the microwave to turn off. “But I don’t want to be the one who has to shuck and jive with the media. Not to mention that I couldn’t go on working for the company after all this. Good God, somebody on the executive floor is a killer!”
Judith gave Margo a rueful smile. “Then you don’t think it’s my cousin or me?”
“Hardly.” Margo removed the first four game hens and put the next batch in the microwave. “Unless you’re a couple of hired assassins, I don’t see the point.”
The concept made Judith laugh. “We’re not. We’re exactly what we seem to be—a couple of Heraldsgate Hill housewives who run their own businesses on the side.”
“Housewives,” Margo repeated. “What a quaint term.” Unexpectedly, she added, “I like it.”
Involuntarily, Judith’s eyes strayed to the digital time display on the stove. It didn’t tick, but something did, and Judith guessed that it was Margo’s biological clock.
“Has your career gotten sort of…redundant?” Judith couldn’t think of a better word.
Margo sighed. “I’m virtually at the top of my profession. I make good money, I’m well respected, my life’s my own.” She stopped, staring gloomily at the microwave.
“But it’s not enough.” There was no query in Judith’s words. “Everyone has holes in their lives, it’s part of human nature. But some of them can be filled.”
Margo looked at Judith with something akin to awe. “You do understand. Somehow, I thought you were…” She fumbled for words; Judith thought Margo didn’t do that very often.
“You thought I was a pinhead because I’m not in the business world,” Judith said with a little smile. “The real world is down on the ground, not on the thirtieth floor. I’ve spent my life with my feet planted firmly in the earth. Believe me, there’ve been many times when strong winds threatened to knock me over. But I’ve kept standing there, as if I’d grown roots. I may not have been a career woman, but I have worked—and it’s easier to leave your troubles behind you and head off to the job. On the other hand, except for the paycheck, there’s not much real payoff. At least not the kind that really counts.”
Margo nodded gravely. “Success—even money and power and sex—aren’t enough. I want to make somebody happy. And I want one of those little people to rock in my arms.” She gave Judith an embarrassed, rueful look. “Have I made a complete fool of myself or should I go on?”
All her life, Judith had been accustomed to people opening up to her. Maybe it was her sympathetic face, her friendly manner, or her innate understanding of human nature. Whatever the reason, she was never surprised when virtual strangers unburdened themselves.
“If it hadn’t been for my son,” Judith said grimly, “I’d have probably poisoned my first husband in the first five years of our marriage.” She slapped a hand to her mouth. “I don’t really mean that,” Judith added lamely.
Margo uttered a truncated laugh. “Life’s tough. I thought I was tough. I’m not. I found that out this weekend, but I have to pretend.”
“We all do,” Judith said, opening one of the double ovens. “Tell me—who do you think is the killer?”
“Oh, God.” Margo held her head. “I’ve tried to figure it out, especially now that Ward is dead. How did anybody—any of us—get upstairs to kill him?”
“Good point.” Judith began lining up the game hens in a big roasting pan. “After you and Russell took the liquor bottles to the lobby, what did you do next?”
Margo removed the last four game hens from the microwave. “I’ve thought about that. When Russell and I got to the lobby, Frank and Nadia had gone to check out the conference rooms. Ava came out of the library and asked if I’d go to the restroom with her, but I didn’t need to, and just then Nadia came back and said she’d go if I’d stay with Frank. I tracked him down and we checked the mikes and rearranged the chairs and then we came back to the lobby. Max was there, wondering what had happened to Ward. I honestly don’t remember what the others were doing.”
Judith did, having gone over the scene with Renie. “How long was Frank alone in the conference room?” Judith asked.
Margo spread her hands. “A minute? Two minutes?”
“Oh.” Judith was disappointed. Something Margo had said suddenly struck her. “If Ava was going to the restroom, where was Gene? They’d been in the library together.”
“Gene?” Margo looked blank. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him after I came back from the basement.”
The basement, thought Judith, panicking. Renie was in the basement with Gene. They’d been gone an awfully long time.
“Let’s see how my cousin and Gene are doing,” Judith said, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
But just as the two women headed for the stairs, Renie and Gene appeared, wrestling with a large and cumbersome contraption.
“We found it,” Renie announced, short of breath. “It was in the heating room.”
“Good.” Judith felt pale and drained. “I’m…glad.”
Renie and Gene rolled the big dry-wet vacuum through the kitchen and out toward the lobby. Margo eyed Judith with an inquisitive expression.
“You thought Gene had offed your cousin?”
“Well…” Judith tried to evade the question, but finally gave in. “It crossed my mind.”
Margo nodded. “Mine, too.”
Judith stared at Margo. “You actually suspect Gene?”
Margo gripped her suede bag. “I suspect everybody. Don’t you?”
THIRTEEN
AFTER THE GAME hens and the bean dish had been put in the oven, Judith and Margo returned to the lobby. Ava was next on her list of people to interrogate, and the easiest way to get her alone was to ask her to take over for Margo and help set the dining room table.
Ava balked. “I’m tired,” she complained. “After dinner, maybe I’ll get my second wind and go on cleanup duty.”
Cleanup of another kind was going on near the entrance.
Renie and Gene had turned on the vacuum, which was sucking up the water. Killegrew shouted to them, saying that if they also sucked up some of the snow, maybe they could get the door closed. It was, he asserted, pretty damned cold.
Interrupting Nadia’s attempts to soothe her CEO, Judith asked the administrative assistant to help get dinner on the table. Nadia started to demur, then grudgingly acquiesced.
As Judith and Nadia left the lobby, Renie and Gene were attacking the encroaching snow. To Judith’s surprise, Killegrew’s suggestion seemed to be working. Bemused, she wondered if it was a seemingly lame-brained idea like this one which had sent Frank Killegrew to the top of his profession.
“I cannot think,” Nadia began as she randomly opened cupboards in the kitchen, “why I’m such a wreck. It isn’t as if this is the first crisis I’ve faced.”
Judith was startled. “Including multiple murders?”
“No, no, not murder,” Nadia said, still searching in the cupboards. “But especially at work on Friday afternoons. It seems as if there’s always a crisis that has to be resolved before five o’clock. You wouldn’t believe how stressful that can be.”
Judith, who had been setting out silverware, observed Nadia’s rummaging with curiosity. “Are you looking for plates? They’re right here, on the counter. I’ve already unloaded the dishwasher.”
“Plates?” Nadia turned, pushing her big glasses up on her nose. “No. I thought…I wondered if perhaps there was some cooking sherry in the kitchen. I wouldn’t mind a little pick-me-up.”
It seemed to Judith that Nadia had picked herself up so often with the liquor in the lobby that she ought to be floating on air. But the administrative assistant’s drinking habits were none of Judith’s business.
“I think there’s a bottle in that tall narrow cupboard on your left,” Judith said. “It’s in with the various kinds of vinegar.”
“Ah.” Nadia had to stand on tiptoe to reach the sherry. “As I was saying, Friday afternoons can be absolute hell. A negative news story in the early edition of the evening paper. A decision handed down by the state utilities commission. A disaster with a member of the board. One of the worst happened just recently. Do you recall the Santa Claus debacle?”