by Mary Daheim
Judith kept pace with Ava as they walked back to the kitchen. “Frank and Nadia had an affair.”
“Exactly. It wasn’t a mere fling, 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. “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 weekend’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 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 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.”
“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.”
“What about Mrs. Haugland?” Judith inquired. “I understand she’s too sickly to take part in company social gatherings.”
Max waved a big hand. “That’s different. Helen Haugland thrives on sympathy. She got plenty of it from poor Ward, and most of the others. Oh, some of them saw through her, but Helen can pull the wool over lots of eyes. I wonder what’ll happen now that Ward’s dead. She might have to get off her dead butt and do something.”
While Judith was interested in Max’s assessment of his colleagues and their spouses, she realized he hadn’t answered the original question. “You mentioned blackmail,” Judith said. “Do you mean that Andrea would have used the hooker ring files to make you do something you otherwise wouldn’t do?”
Max seemed to consider Judith’s somewhat garbled suggestion. “Maybe originally. She and Alan have a couple of kids. One of them is out of high school, I think. It might be that she wanted me to hire him. Anyway, that can’t be true now. I mean, Alan’s going to run WaCom, right? And WaCom wants to merge with OTIOSE. So now I figure that Andrea was going to use that file to get me canned.”
Renie leaned forward on the footstool. “And replace you with someone hand-picked by Alan? That makes sense.”
“I’m afraid so.” Max assumed a brooding expression as the lobby grew silent.
The silence was short-lived. A sound came from somewhere, unexpected and distant. Judith, Renie, and Max all tensed.
“That’s an engine,” Max said, getting up and inclining his bald head. “Where’s it coming from?”
“The basement?” Renie offered.
“I don’t think so,” Judith said, straining to hear. “It seems to be coming from outside.”
The sound grew fainter. Max jumped off the sofa. “Come on! We’re going upstairs! Maybe we can see something from the second-floor windows!”
They raced from the elevator to Max’s room, which was closer than the cousins’. But once inside, they could see nothing. It was dark, and the snow, which now consisted of big, wet flakes, obliterated the landscape.
“Damn!” Max tugged the window open and leaned out. “Listen!”
Judith and Renie practically fell over each other trying to get close to the open window. Sure enough, they heard the sound again.
“An engine, a motor,” Judith breathed.
“Look!” Renie was halfway over the sill, snow soaking her sweatshirt. “A light!”
Judith and Max barely glimpsed the faint amber glow before it disappeared. The sound died away, too. The trio continued to watch and listen. Close to five minutes passed before anyone spoke.
“Damn!” Max swore again. “I don’t get it.” He gestured in the direction where they’d seen the light, then closed the window with a rattling bang.
Judith recalled where she and Renie had seen the light the previous night. Their room was down the hall from Max’s, at the end of the corridor. “We saw a light on this side of the lodge last night,” said Judith. “Is there a road in that direction?”
Max looked thoughtful. “I think so, to the caretaker’s place. But it’s got to be impassable. The only way you could get through is with a snowmobile. They can go in just about any conditions.”
“You wouldn’t need a road,” Renie said, more to herself than the others.
“That’s right,” Max agreed. “If there’d been one here in the lodge, we could have gotten out by now.”
Judith was wearing a curious expression. “There are skis and all sorts of other winter sports equipment in the basement. I assume they’re rentals. Why isn’t there a snow-mobile?”
Max shrugged. “Liability, maybe. They can be dangerous if you don’t know how to handle them. Some models go up to a hundred and ten miles per hour.”
Judith took one last look out the window. All she could see were the big, white flakes, falling softly onto the drifted snow. It was very quiet.
But someone was out there. Judith’s logical mind told her it couldn’t be the killer. The lodge had been locked up the entire weekend. The blizzard had cut off access to all but the highest windows. Yet nothing was impossible, not to someone with murder in mind.
With a sudden jarring tremor, Judith wondered if they had been looking for the killer in the wrong place.
FIFTEEN
“WHO ELSE WAS in the corridor last night?” Judith asked Renie some two hours later after the cousins had done their laundry and retired to their room. “Did you catch the part about Max seeing someone when he tried to talk to Andrea last night?”
Renie nodded. “You, of course, never saw him or anyone else, you big fibber. Are you thinking Max may have seen the mysterious stranger?”
“I’m not sure who—or what—Max saw,” Judith replied. “Andrea’s room is at the far end of the hall. The lighting’s pretty dim. Max seemed uncertain. I got the impression that maybe he sensed rather than saw someone. It might have been anyone, including the alleged outsider.”
“It could be done,” Renie asserted. “If someone climbed up the side of the lodge, they could get in through one of the second- or third-floor windows. A ladder, snowshoes, ropes—whatever. If someone was determined to get in, they could probably do it.”
Judith was sitting on the bed, chin on fists. “What’s the risk factor? If seen inside the lodge, a stranger would automatically become the prime suspect.”
“But no one’s seen this phantom,” Renie pointed out. “This is a big place, and for the most part, we’ve all tended to congregate together in two or three rooms. Look,” Renie continued, perched on the edge of her twin bed, “Leon and Andrea were probably killed within a couple of hours of each other last night. Ward was murdered this afternoon. Why couldn’t the killer have come in late last night, hidden on the third floor or in the basement, and committed all three murders before heading out again? The first time we saw the light was early evening yesterday. We all heard the laugh this afternoon, after Ward was killed. Now, mid-evening, we see another light, but not in the same place. During the time the murders were committed, nobody—that we know of—heard or saw anything outside. What does that suggest?”
“I see your point,” Judith agreed. “Which is reassuring in that it means the murderer may have finished his—or her—grisly business. However,” she added on a heavy sigh, “it also means that if the killer is an outsider, you and I don’t have the foggiest notion of who it might be.”
Renie made a face. “Better to have an unknown homicidal maniac wandering around the mountains than one of the OTIOSE gang prowling the halls. I like outside; I really hate inside.”
Judith got up and went to the honor bar where she removed a Pepsi for Renie and a diet 7-Up for herself. “I understand your reaction. But it doesn’t work for me.”
Renie looked mildly offended. “Why not?”
“Because,” Judith said, sitting back down on the bed, “it doesn’t fit. I’ve been thinking this through for the last couple of hours, and much as the outsider theory appeals t
o me, the rest of the pieces don’t mesh. Barry was killed a year ago, during the retreat. We find Barry, and suddenly other people start dying. I’m convinced there’s a connection. Except for the conferees, who could know we’d found his body?”
“Whoever is out there,” Renie replied.
“I don’t think so,” Judith said, though there was a tinge of doubt in her voice. “We didn’t see any tracks in the snow when we went back the second time. And after that, it started to snow pretty hard. I’m sure that little cave has been covered up again. No, coz,” Judith said with a sad shake of her head, “it doesn’t wash. I still think the killer is in the lodge.”
“You want the killer to be inside,” Renie accused. “Otherwise, you couldn’t figure out whodunit.”
“Don’t say that, coz!” Judith shot Renie an angry look. “I’m trying to use logic. Does it make sense that somebody follows the OTIOSE conferees to Mountain Goat Lodge two years in a row and starts killing them?” She didn’t wait for Renie’s response. “Of course it doesn’t—it would be easier and safer to do away with them in the city. If we knew why Barry was killed in the first place, then we’d know why the discovery of his body meant that Leon, Andrea, and Ward also had to die. What is the common link between the four of them? That’s what we should concentrate on.”
Renie sipped her Pepsi and considered. “First link—OTIOSE. They all worked for the same company, never mind at what level. Second link—each other. They knew each other.”
“Hold it.” Judith gestured with her soda can. “That’s not precisely true. Barry worked for two different departments, human resources and public relations. Except for his occasional catering jobs and driving the conferees to the lodge last year, how would the others have known him? Russell doesn’t even seem to remember Barry.”
“Russell’s a dreamer,” Renie responded. “People aren’t important to him, only ideas matter. A week from now, Russell won’t remember us. As for the others, Barry would have had contact with all of them. Human resources and p.r. deal with all the other departments. He certainly knew Nadia, and therefore, no doubt came into contact with Frank and Ward.”