by Mary Daheim
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 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 Judith 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 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 lower-cut 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 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 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 prescription. 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 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 seems like an odd duck, and I can’t help but wonder if Frank didn’t get him the job up here. If so, Rudy’s in his debt. I also wonder if Rudy knew about Barry Newcombe but kept his mouth shut. It wouldn’t surprise me if Rudy Mannheimer helped hide Barry’s body. Still, I don’t think it will be easy to get Rudy to open up.”
“Barry,” Ava murmured. “It’s strange how we keep forgetting him.”
“Not really,” Judith said with a touch of irony. “Barry wasn’t in upper management. That made him a nonperson. But last year when he was hired as caterer, this whole series of tragic events was set in motion. Barry must have swiped Andrea’s private personnel files. I’ve no idea what he intended to do with them—blackmail, perhaps? Or just a bit of clout to get some financial support to start his own catering business?”
“I don’t know.” Ava’s response seemed candid. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know Barry very well.”
“Whatever the reason,” Judith continued, “it was a terrible mistake on his part. He must have told Frank, who looked at the files and saw certain things that could never be made public. Barry might not have recognized their significance, but Frank did, especially the part—which has turned up missing—about using Patrice’s personal funds to help set up the company. Leon Mooney knew all about it, he had to as chief financial officer, and no doubt altered the books under duress. But Barry had signed his own death warrant. Everyone knew he was a notorious gossip and wouldn’t hesitate to barter his juicy tidbits. Unlike Andrea and Leon and the rest of you, Barry couldn’t be manipulated by threats of losing a prestigious position. So Frank killed Barry and hid his body by the creek. He also hid the files there.”
Renie’s head swiveled. “What? You never told me that!”
Judith gave her cousin an apologetic look. “Sorry. It didn’t dawn on me until you mentioned that I should piddle in the library wastebasket. Then I remembered you found an empty plastic garbage bag in Andrea’s wastebasket. Why would she have such a thing? It was incongruous. Andrea wasn’t the type to carry her belongings in a garbage bag. But more to the point—why had we uncovered Barry’s body so easily? The answer had to be because someone had already been rooting around in the snow by the ice cave. Frank had disturbed the hiding place earlier in the day when he went to retrieve the files.” Judith gazed at Ava. “But you already knew that. That’s why Frank tried to strangle you.”
Ava nodded. “I saw him go out to the creek. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, so I followed him partway. He was digging around in the snow, and then he had something in his hands—the garbage bag—and I kept watching while he tried to cover up the place where he’d been searching. Suddenly I had this sinking feeling. Since we’d only arrived an hour earlier, I knew whatever Frank had found must have been there much longer. Like from last year. I thought about Barry, and after our afternoon meeting, I confronted Frank. That’s when he tried to kill me.”
Renie looked stunned. “That was terribly risky, Ava. Why didn’t you wait until you were back in town?”
Ava’s fingers twisted around the juice can. “I don’t know. I felt compelled to act. Maybe I thought Frank would confess and turn himself in and that would be that. In retrospect, it was a very stupid thing to do.”
“You’re right.” Renie grew thoughtful. “I suppose Frank originally intended to leave the files there with the body, but realized he could use them against the others. That’s why there were no entries for an entire year.”
“That’s right,” Judith agreed. “Those files took on a life of their own. I suspect Frank planted them in Andrea’s room after he killed her. Then Nadia stole them—or Frank did later. Either way, they were meant to be found. Ward and Leon’s vacancies on the board would have to be filled, probably by Gene—and you.” Judith inclined her head at Ava.
Ava gingerly touched the bruises on her neck. “So any dirt about us could be used to coerce us into changing the by-laws. And Leon was killed because he knew how Frank had bankrolled the company. But Ward…He was so loyal to Frank. Surely he’d have gone along with Frank’s wishes not to retire.”
Judith offered Ava a sad little smile. “Maybe so. But Frank had promised you Ward’s job. Ward had to go.”
In distress, Ava ran her fingers through her long black hair. “That’s what I was afraid of. Everything suddenly crashed in on me this afternoon. I couldn’t work for a murderer. And I felt guilty, too. You’re right—Ward’s blood is on my hands.”
“You put your career ahead of justice,” Renie said quietly. “I’m afraid it’s true—lives might have been saved if you’d acted sooner.”
Ava dropped her hands into her lap. “It’s like tunnel vision up there on the executive floor. They talk about career pathing. It’s literal. You travel down that path and you never look left or right. All you see is that title or that salary or those perks at the end of the tunnel. Nothing else matters. It’s horrible when you stop to think about it.”
A silence followed, as Ava wrestled with her special demons. Renie finally spoke up, breaking the tension. “What about Andrea? Why kill her?”
“Because,” Judith said, “she not only knew he’d fleeced Mrs. Killegrew, but that Leon had been forced to juggle the books. There was a missing page in her private files that followed a discussion of an independent audit. I suspect that page—which Frank destroyed—contained incriminating information about Frank’s financial dealings. He burned that page—probably along with Leon’s own records—in Leon’s room. He couldn’t do it ri
ght after he killed Leon in the kitchen because Andrea was waiting in Leon’s room. When we noticed the fire in the grate this afternoon, at first we thought the entire set of folders had been destroyed. Then we realized there weren’t enough ashes. So what else had to go? The phrase Mooney’s money came to mind. Someone had mentioned it, and it stuck. Money is always a serious motive when it comes to murder. It dawned on me that the real financial records had been burned, as opposed to the fraudulent ones that Leon had been forced to make public.”
“Good grief.” Ava had paled and was holding her head. “How did Frank think he could get away with it?”
Judith uttered a bitter little laugh. “Frank thought he could get away with anything. His corner office mentality made him believe he was different from other people, that he was above the law, that he could do anything he wanted because he was a CEO. Oh, I realize not all powerful people go on a homicide spree. But they kill in other ways—they demean their subordinates, they stifle them, they control them—and often, they fire them. You can destroy other human beings without violence. In the isolated corner office, someone like Frank becomes so disassociated that he lives in a different world, a false world where the only values are the ones he makes up.”
Renie nodded slowly in agreement. “Not only that, but he’d invested his entire life in OTIOSE. Oh, he may have had a boat and played golf, but those were just extensions of his executive persona. Unlike other people—like my husband and my cousin’s husband—he had nothing outside of his exalted position. He was a shell of a man, hollow inside, and incapable of living anywhere but in the corporate world. When reality touched him in the form of retirement, he went over the edge. As my psychologist husband would say, Frank Killegrew…went nuts.”
“My God!” Ava clapped a hand to her cheek. “Will I be like that? Am I already there?”
“Let’s hope not,” said Renie. “You’re still young. This weekend, you’ve seen how corporate thinking can cause total devastation. Follow Margo’s example—get out before it’s too late.”