by Mary Daheim
“No! No! Nadia!” he cried in anguish. “Oh, my God!” He fell to his knees, leaning against the side of the bed where Nadia’s stockinged foot still dangled. Lifting his head, Killegrew grabbed Nadia by the shoulders in a futile attempt to rouse her. “Wake up, Nadia! Wake up! It’s me, Frank! Please, please, wake up!” He collapsed on top of her lifeless body.
“Oh, dear!” Russell exclaimed. “Is she…? Oh, dear!”
Killegrew’s shoulders were heaving. Russell, with a hand over his mouth, rushed into the bathroom. The cousins could hear him being sick, but their concern was focused on Frank Killegrew.
“Mr. Killegrew,” Judith said softly, “come away. There’s nothing you can do.”
He continued to sob for several seconds. Then, suddenly, he turned his head and stared at Judith. “I can do…I can do…I can do…” His entire body sagged as he slipped off the bed. “I can’t do,” he breathed in an incredulous voice. “I can’t do.”
For Frank Killegrew, it appeared to be a revelation.
It took a great deal of coaxing and soothing for the cousins to get Killegrew and Russell out of Leon’s room. The bereaved CEO rejected Judith’s suggestion that Max and Gene carry Nadia up to the third floor where the other bodies lay at rest. Killegrew adamantly refused to have Nadia moved. Judith understood, and backed off.
The others had already returned to the lobby from the basement. Since Killegrew appeared to be in shock and Russell still claimed to feel sick, the burden of making the tragic announcement fell on Renie, who hurriedly consulted with Judith.
“The four of us found Nadia Weiss dead in Leon Mooney’s room. Cause of death can’t be determined without an autopsy.”
Ava began to cry again, Margo collapsed in a side chair, Gene held his head in his hands, and Max exploded with a stream of obscenities. It was clear that the OTIOSE contingent had completely fallen apart.
“There’s no logic to this!” Gene exclaimed. “It’s irrational, insane, beyond understanding! I can’t deal with it anymore!” He whirled around, looking as if he were trying to escape.
Ava stopped crying and raised her head. “It’s not a cut-and-dried legal issue you can find in one of your RCW law books,” she said, compassion evident in her voice. “But it is real, Gene. What’s so horrible is that I can’t see beyond the next few minutes. It’s like the future has been canceled for all of us.”
“It sure as hell has for some of us,” Max declared savagely. “Who’s next?” His homely face was a mixture of fury and fear.
“Not me,” Margo averred, gripping her suede bag. But for once, she didn’t sound very confident.
Killegrew, who was now drinking straight from a bottle of Scotch, turned bleary eyes on the others. “It had to be suicide,” he mumbled.
“Can it, Frank,” Margo said wearily. “We know better. Stop kidding yourself.”
“I don’t blame her,” Killegrew said, as if he hadn’t heard Margo. “I feel like jumping off a cliff.”
“Oh, please don’t!” Russell begged. “Really, this is all so…” Slumped on the footstool, he ran a hand through his disheveled fair hair. “It’s exactly what Ava just mentioned—it’s real. I don’t know much about real things, only ideas and theories and concepts. But,” he continued, hiking himself up to a full sitting position, “I do know how to conjecture, it’s part of my job. I saw that pill bottle on the nightstand in Leon’s room. It was given to Nadia by the company physician, Dr. Winslow, who is somewhat old-fashioned. Triclos—or triclofos or chloral hydrate, to call it by its more common name—is not often prescribed any more. I recall this from my days as an army medic. It can be lethal, of course, especially if it’s taken with an alcoholic beverage. There was also an empty gin bottle on the floor by the bed. I must assume—or conjecture, if you will—that whoever murdered poor dear Nadia must have put the chloral hydrate tablets into the gin.”
A little gasp went up around the lobby, but the usually reticent Russell Craven hadn’t finished. “You see, I have been thinking. It’s what I do. And I’ve come to one unalterable conclusion. The deaths have not been caused by any of us. We’ve wondered a great deal about an outsider committing these crimes. That can be the only answer.” From behind his round, rimless glasses, Russell stared at Judith and Renie. “It must be those two women. They are the killers, and we must act at once.”
SEVENTEEN
JUDITH AND RENIE both started to protest, meanwhile backpedaling across the lobby. But no one actually came after them. The OTIOSE executives appeared depleted, as if the latest horror had sapped their collective will.
“We can’t stop them,” Killegrew finally said in a lethargic voice. “It’s inevitable. We’ve come here to die.”
“It’s like the Nazis with the concentration camps,” Ava said in wonder. “You get on a bus, you think you’re simply being sent to some harmless place, but you never come back.”
“My grandparents were slaughtered by Mao’s henchmen,” Margo said, her grip slackened on the suede bag. “They thought they were being taken to a political meeting in another village.”
“My family fled Armenia during the First World War,” Max said in a toneless voice, “but some of our relatives were massacred by the Turks. It was a bloodbath.”
“I had two great-grandfathers who were lynched,” Gene said, staring into space. “One in Alabama, the other in South Carolina. My uncle was almost beaten to death during the freedom marches in Mississippi. In Oakland, two white cops gave my father a concussion for no reason. Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.”
“Really,” Russell said in a huffy tone, “none of you are showing much spunk. All we have to do is lock them in their room. Then we’ll be safe until we can get out of here.”
The suggestion was met with apathy. Slowly, the cousins moved back towards the others.
“Russell,” Judith began in what she hoped was a reasonable tone, “you’re off base. If you’re relying on logic, let’s put it to the test. For openers, we weren’t here last year, which is when all this may have started. We have nothing to do with OTIOSE or any other telecommunications outfit except for my cousin’s tenuous connection through her freelance design business. I was asked to fill in for some other caterer at the last minute, as at least some of you may know. Why on earth would either of us come to Mountain Goat Lodge and start killing people? It makes absolutely no sense.”
Russell adjusted his rimless glasses. “Killing often doesn’t. People go on rampages.”
“We don’t,” Renie declared. “Margo, I’ve worked with you before. Have you ever had any reason to doubt who and what I am?”
Margo’s expression was unusually vague. “No—I guess not. But then I never pay much attention to consultants as individuals. They come in, do their job, and leave.”
Renie sighed. “Yes, I understand that part. But if we’d wanted to kill you, we’ve had ample opportunity. Why didn’t we poison your food?”
“Too obvious,” Max responded.
“Poison can be extremely subtle,” declared Judith, who’d had experience with its cleverly disguised lethal effects. When the others regarded her with wide-eyed alarm, she hastened to explain. “I read a lot of mysteries. There are poisons that can’t be detected, poisons with delayed reactions, poisons that can be masked in various ways.”
“That’s true,” Margo said glumly. “I read mysteries, too.”
“So what do we do?” Max asked, automatically turning to Killegrew.
The CEO scratched an ear. “I don’t know. Eat lunch, I suppose.” Somehow the callousness of his remark was diluted by his desolate manner.
Margo got to her feet. “Ava and I’ll make lunch.” Seeing the startled expressions on the men’s faces, she waved an impatient hand. “Okay, so it’s women’s work, but this is different. It’s like…a safety precaution.”
Russell pointed a bony finger at Judith and Renie. “What about them?”
“Lock them in the library,” Margo retorted as she
and Ava started for the kitchen. “Let them read some more mystery novels. If they’re so smart, maybe they can figure all this out.”
The cousins didn’t protest their incarceration. “What a morning,” Renie sighed as she and Judith sank into the library’s wing-back armchairs. “So much for gratitude. I guess Russell forgot about that hot tea you made for him.” She sighed again, gazing at one of the two tall windows which were flanked by muted plaid drapes. “I wonder how long it will be until the snow has melted enough that we really can get out of here?”
Judith shook her head. “It’ll take a while. And don’t forget the avalanche danger.”
Looking glum, Renie didn’t respond right away. “Somebody out there knows we didn’t do it,” she finally said.
“That’s right,” Judith agreed in a strange voice.
Renie’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know who it is?”
Now it was Judith who didn’t answer immediately. “I’ve got a hunch,” she admitted at last. “Do you?”
Renie nodded slowly. “I think so, yes.”
“We have no proof,” Judith remarked bleakly. “Those files might help us, if we could find them.”
“You don’t think they’ve been destroyed?”
Judith shook her head. “I don’t think the killer has found them. Damn,” she cursed under her breath, “I have to go to the bathroom. Do you think they’ll let us out?”
“Pick the lock,” Renie said. “You can do it.”
Judith brightened. “Maybe I can. It’s worth a try.” Just as she fished into her shoulder bag for something that would trip the lock, the pager went off again. “How annoying! I don’t need that thing bothering me right now. I feel like throwing it out the window.”
“Stop worrying about something you can’t help,” Renie advised. “We’ve got more urgent problems here.”
“You’re right.” Judith hauled an oversized paper clip out of her purse and began straightening it. “Let’s hope these locks aren’t as daunting as they look. The ones on this floor are obviously much newer than the ones on the guest room doors.”
Renie watched while Judith plied the paper clip. The library door had a sophisticated lock, and presented a serious challenge. After almost five minutes, Judith was forced to give up.
“We’ll have to knock and yell to get out of here,” she said, tossing the now useless paper clip into a wastebasket made of woven branches. “I hope they can hear us.”
Renie began pounding on the door and shouting. Nothing happened. “I don’t hear any hurrying feet,” she said.
The cousins suddenly heard something else.
The library telephone was ringing.
Judith snatched up the receiver. “Hello? Hello?” she virtually yelled into the mouthpiece.
“Goodness!” exclaimed Arlene Rankers. “Why are you shouting, Judith? You practically broke my eardrum!”
“Arlene!” Judith collapsed into one of the armchairs. “What’s wrong, Arlene?”
Renie hovered over Judith, who held the phone away from her ear just enough so that her cousin could hear, too. “I’ve been paging you for two days,” Arlene said in an irritated voice. “I found your pager number on the bulletin board in the kitchen. I didn’t even know you had a pager, Judith.”
“Ah…Neither did I. I mean, I forgot. But the phones have been out up here at the lodge and…Never mind, what’s the problem? Is it Mother?”
“Your mother?” Arlene laughed. “Of course not! Your mother is wonderful, as always. She had such a nice time going to Mass and out to breakfast with us. She said you never took her for rides in the snow any more.”
Judith’s head was spinning. Gertrude hadn’t attended Mass for almost three years, claiming that she was too feeble. She managed, however, to get to her bridge club meetings around the hill and occasionally, to the church itself for a bingo session. Judith considered her mother a fraud.
“It’s snowing at home?” Judith inquired. “I don’t usually drive in the snow.”
“It doesn’t bother Carl,” Arlene declared. “But of course we’re midwesterners and know how to handle it. Now tell me, Judith, how do I get into your computer program for future reservations? I’ve been doing them all by hand.”
“The computer!” Judith felt giddy. “That’s all?”
“All?” Arlene sounded irked. “I can’t get into the cancellation program, either, and there have been several of those, what with this bad weather and people being so timid about getting around in it. Honestly, you’d think that just because the planes have been grounded and some of the roads are closed and the metro buses have been taken off their runs…”
Judith and Renie exchanged startled looks. “How much snow is there, Arlene?” Judith interrupted.
“Mm…Two feet? Your statue of St. Francis in the backyard is completely covered. The poor birds have nowhere to land.”
“Oh, my. That’s quite a lot of snow for us in town,” Judith said. “Okay, let me tell you how to get into those programs…” She jiggled a bit in the chair, fighting off nature’s urges. When she had finished her instructions, most of which required questions from Arlene, Judith asked if Joe was home.
“Poor Joe.” Arlene’s voice dropped a notch. “Poor man. Poor soul. He’s fine,” she added on a far more chipper note.
Accustomed to her friend and neighbor’s peculiar contradictions, Judith grimaced only slightly. “Is he home? Can I talk to him?”
“No. Yes. I must run, Judith. I’ve got a million things to do, since Carl and I are leaving next week for…”
“Wait! Do you mean he’s home but I can’t talk to him or he’s not home and I can…That is, I can’t…”
“He’s at work,” Arlene broke in. “He’s been at work since the snow started Saturday during the night. He got called in late Friday on a very big case. Then he got stuck downtown. It’s really terrible here, Judith. We’re completely marooned.”
“But…you said…” Realizing it was pointless to argue, Judith sighed. “Okay, Arlene. Thanks for all your help. We may be able to get out of here by tomorrow. It’s melting fairly fast.”
“Not here,” Arlene said. “The wind changed last night, coming from the south. We got another four inches, with more coming tonight. Take care, and say hello to Serena.” Arlene rang off.
Judith stared at Renie. “The phone works. Who shall we call?”
“The bathroom?” Renie said with a quirky little smile.
“I forgot about that,” Judith admitted. “I can wait. Let’s start with the police.”
“Which police? As I recall,” Renie said dryly, “that was our first obstacle.”
“My police,” Judith responded, punching in digits. “At least Joe will be able to tell us who we should contact.”
“Oh, God!” Renie cried. “Are you going to tell him about our body count?”
“I have to,” Judith said, then held up a hand as someone answered at the other end. “Joe Flynn, please…He’s not? But I thought…Oh…Oh, I see. All right. Yes, please have him call me at this number. This is his wife.” Judith replaced the receiver. “Joe didn’t get stuck downtown,” she said to Renie. “He and Woody are out in that snazzy neighborhood between downtown and the lake. That’s where their victim was found.”
Renie recognized the neighborhood. “They’ve got tons of little hills and short, narrow streets,” she said. “It’s not as steep as Heraldsgate Hill, but it’d be really difficult navigating in the snow.”
“At least Joe’s in a classy part of town,” said Judith, and then she laughed, a rueful sound. “I guess he’s stuck with a stiff, too.” Suddenly, she jumped out of her chair. “The bathroom! We’ve got to get to the bathroom!”
“So you mentioned,” Renie smirked. “How about using that wastebasket?”
Judith stared at Renie. “I don’t mean that,” she responded, going to the door. “Help!” she screamed. “Help! Help!”
“What in the…?” But Renie was at her side, po
unding on the heavy pine panels.
The cousins were almost hoarse by the time Margo and Gene came to the rescue. “We thought the yelling came from outside,” Margo said. “What’s wrong?”
“Outside?” Judith blinked at Margo. “No, it was us.”
Their captors didn’t argue when Judith and Renie asked to be locked up in their own room. They needed access to a bathroom and also wouldn’t mind if someone brought them a couple of sandwiches. After escorting the cousins upstairs, Margo and Gene promised to deliver food.
“You didn’t tell them the phone worked,” Renie said after the cousins were alone. “How come?”
“Because,” Judith explained, scurrying into the bathroom, “I wanted to stall for time. Obviously, the OTIOSE gang was in the dining room when the phone rang and they didn’t hear the kitchen extension.”
“So what good does it do us?” asked Renie. “Now we’re shut up in here.”
“With a much simpler lock,” Judith called out over the flushing of the toilet. “The only problem is, we don’t have access to a phone on this floor. I forgot about that.”
“Crazy,” Renie muttered. “What did you mean when you said ‘bathroom’?”
Judith was washing her hands. “What? I can’t hear you.”
“Never mind.” Renie collapsed onto the bed and lit a cigarette. “I’m sure I’ll find out.”
Judith entered the bedroom. “I’m glad Mother is okay. It sounds as if I’ll lose some money with the cancellations, but I can’t do anything about that. And, as usual, Arlene is coping very well.”
“It’s a good thing this is a three-day weekend,” Renie pointed out. “Bill doesn’t have to teach and nobody has to work. Maybe by Tuesday, things will get back to normal.”
A knock sounded at the door. Ava and Max had arrived with chicken salad sandwiches, chips, and the carrot and celery sticks Judith had cut up early Friday morning. Only two days had passed since then, but to Judith, it felt like much more.
The cousins thanked Max and Ava, who both seemed extremely subdued. “How’s everyone doing?” Judith asked, her usual compassion surfacing.