African-American dressed as Little Miss Muffet, and right
below it is some guy who wants a tall Scandinavian wheatthrasher.”
Renie started to giggle. “Somebody was running a hooker
ring out of OTIOSE? That’s rich!”
Judith wasn’t laughing. “Andrea?” She wrinkled her nose.
“It’s possible, I suppose. In another life, she could have been
a madam.”
“No.” Renie grew serious. “Not Andrea, not any of these
top level female executives. They wouldn’t exploit other
women. I know I said that the sisterhood is a myth, but there
is a code. Prostitution isn’t part of it.”
“So this was planted along with Barry’s stuff?” Judith was
puzzled.
“Maybe.” Renie, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed,
rocked back and forth. “Or Andrea found it on the coffee
table where we left it and was going to take somebody to
task.”
Judith leafed through the remaining four pages in the
folder. There were more names and descriptions, similar to
the ones they’d originally thought belonged to race horses.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 141
“Bronze Beauty—long-legged, aloof, can dominate”;
“Crinkles—nicely padded, fun-loving, extensive costume
wardrobe, wigs, undergarments, etc.”; “Frangipani—exotic,
erotic, no funny stuff.”
The cousins, however, didn’t recognize any of the supposed clients’ names. They all appeared to be from out of
town, mostly from the officer corps, and almost exclusively
connected to the communications business.
“Who?” Judith demanded, handing the folder back to
Renie.
“In this bunch? I could only guess, which would get me
nowhere, because I wouldn’t put it past any of the men.”
Renie hesitated before putting the folder back into the
briefcase. “Evidence? Or not?”
Judith considered. “That folder seems to have a life of its
own. Let’s leave it and see what happens to it next. As long
as we know where it is now, maybe we can learn something
if it turns up somewhere else.”
Renie complied. “I might exclude Killegrew,” she said as
they headed back into the hall. “He wouldn’t dare dirty his
hands with this sort of thing.”
“He must know about it,” Judith said as they approached
Andrea’s door.
“Maybe not,” said Renie. “Maybe that was Andrea’s fatal
mistake. Maybe Frank Killegrew was about to find out.”
After creeping downstairs, the only items the cousins put
into the safe were the pillowcase, the water glasses, the pill
bottle, and Barry’s belongings. Inside the safe, the Eskimo
carving still lay on the towel. Judith breathed a sigh of relief.
The remainder of their pilfered collection had been returned
to Andrea’s room.
The OTIOSE staff, or what was left of them, had retired
to the library. “If any more of them get bumped off,” Renie
said as they cleared away the lunch plates in the
142 / Mary Daheim
dining room, “they can start meeting in the elevator.”
“That’s not funny, coz,” Judith snapped. “You’re the one
who thinks we’re next on the hit list.”
Renie sobered. “Not next. Last.”
“Swell.” Judith paused, holding several coffee mugs against
her chest. “We’ve got to figure this out, coz. I really want to
know who is going to try to do us in.”
“That’d be nice,” Renie admitted, then gave Judith an
apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be flippant. I just
don’t know how else to keep the horror at bay.”
“Margo’s gun might do that,” said Judith as they returned
to the kitchen. “Maybe we can eliminate some of these
people.”
Renie was startled. “With Margo’s gun?”
“No.” Judith gave her cousin a twisted smile. “I mean, as
suspects. Russell, for example. Can you see him as a coldblooded killer?”
“He’d be very cunning,” Renie said, again quite serious.
“Devious, too. Under that supposedly squeamish, vague exterior lurks genius. He’s the R&D man, remember. I never
put anything past people who sit around and just think.”
“Okay, we leave Russell in,” Judith said with reluctance.
“If Margo was the killer, would she brandish that gun?”
“Why not? It’s a great cover. No one’s been shot. Yet.”
“I like Ava,” Judith said, putting away the uneaten ham
and turkey. “Maybe it’s because she lent me her clothes.
Couldn’t we cross her off the list?”
This time, Renie’s response didn’t come so promptly.
When it finally did, it was qualified. “I like her, too, but she’s
ambitious. Don’t you remember what she said about how
she could be running WaCom if she’d stayed on? That implies she’d like to be running OTIOSE.”
“I thought you said Ward Haugland was a shoo-in for
Killegrew’s job.”
“There are no shoo-ins in the corporate world,” Renie
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 143
responded. “He’s the heir apparent. The key word is ‘apparent.’”
Judith began unloading the dishwasher. “How about
Ward?”
“Ward’s viable. Under that ‘aw-shucks’ manner there’s
big-time drive and determination. Of course,” Renie added,
“he’s been very loyal to Frank. I’ve heard that Ward has
turned down a couple of other offers this past year.”
“I suppose we can’t rule out Max, if only because he has
a hot temper and a lot of resentment,” said Judith.
“He’s strong, too,” Renie noted.
“Which Nadia isn’t. Could we skip her?” Judith’s tone was
hopeful.
“She’s thin, but wiry. Like me, before I got fat. I’d never
trust me. I can be vicious when aroused.” Renie finished
clearing off the counter. “Nadia’s another one who’s very
loyal to Frank. I could see her committing a crime not for
herself, but for him.”
Judith stared at Renie. “Is she in love with Frank?”
“I don’t know. Naturally, there have been rumors. A man
and a woman don’t work that closely together without having
people talk about them.”
“There’s Gene,” Judith said disconsolately. “Too prudent,
too cautious, right?”
“Precisely the kind that can snap,” Renie said. “Pressure—you don’t understand what it can do at the executive
level.”
“So we’re left with Frank Killegrew.” Judith picked up a
dish towel, gave it a frustrated yank, and tossed it onto the
counter. “He founded OTIOSE. Why would he ruin it by
killing off his employees?”
“Good question. To be honest, I can’t think of an answer.
He is OTIOSE. The perfect solution is that someone is out
to get him, indirectly. If there was an outsider in this bunch,
everything would make sense. But that’s not the case, and
we’re up a stump.” Renie heaved a big sigh just as Max and
Ward entered the kitchen.
144 / Mary Daheim
“We’re looking for shovels,” Max announced. “Crazy as it
sounds, we’re going to try to tunnel our way out.”
“The snow stopped,” Ward said on a note of optimism.
“We may get a thaw.” The two men headed for the basement.
Judith and Renie exchanged curious glances. “Tunnel?”
said Judith.
“Thaw?” said Renie. “Don’t count on it.”
“They can’t tunnel for a mile,” said Judith. “That’s crazy.”