the counter.
Judith nodded. “Two points—first, would whoever stole
the files keep them or burn them? Second, whoever didn’t
take them might not lock their doors. We can get rid of some
suspects.”
“Somebody’s already doing that,” Renie remarked, but she
followed Judith to the back stairs.
Andrea’s room wore a desolate air. But it had definitely
been disturbed since the cousins had searched it. The daily
planner was lying on the spare bed and the personnel files
were gone.
Max’s room was also unlocked. It looked virtually the
same as it had when Judith and Renie had gone with him to
look out the windows. There were no items of interest, and
it appeared that nothing had been burned in the grate except
logs and kindling.
The same was true of Russell’s room. Indeed, it was so
Spartan that it might never have been occupied. The cousins
moved on to Ava, who, they recalled was staying next door
to Russell. Somewhat to their surprise, Ava hadn’t locked
her door, either.
“I suppose there’s no point,” Judith mused. “They’re all
together during the day, or at least in pairs.”
“True,” Renie agreed. “If they don’t have anything to hide,
why bother?”
Judith scanned the top of the bureau where Ava kept her
personal items. There was a hairbrush, a mascara wand, an
emery board, and a packet of birth control pills.
“Maintenance or prevention?” Judith inquired with a sly
smile.
“Either one. Both. Lots of women take the pill for reasons
other than contraception,” Renie noted.
“That’s so.” Judith opened the small closet. The only items
hanging there were a yellow flannel nightgown, a black
bathrobe edged with white piping, and the red jewel- SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 217
necked sweater and woolen slacks Judith had borrowed.
“Odd,” Judith said under her breath.
“What’s odd?” Renie came to stand next to Judith.
“Why hasn’t Ava worn that red outfit? All three days, she’s
had on either the blue or the green ensemble. Wouldn’t you
change clothes if you had any?”
“Sure,” Renie responded. “Maybe Ava doesn’t want to wear
that one because you did. No offense, coz,” she went on,
poking Judith in the ribs, “but some people are funny about
things like that. Besides, Ava said she didn’t care much about
clothes.”
“Yes, she did,” Judith said, giving the red outfit one last
curious look.
They moved on, but the next room they checked was
locked. “Who is it?” Renie asked. “Gene?”
“I think so. I’m trying to remember who came out of where
when we brought the latest gloomy news.”
“Gene would lock up,” Renie said. “He’s a lawyer.”
Judith pointed to the damaged door across the hall. “That’s
Ward’s room. Shall we?”
“Well…” Renie hesitated.
Judith didn’t. She opened the door, but everything seemed
the same as it had been when she’d accompanied the others
in their futile search for OTIOSE’s executive vice president.
“No sign of a struggle,” Judith murmured. “Do you realize
that Ward must have been lying outside those windows while
we looked around for him in here?”
Renie grimaced. “Why didn’t anybody look outside?”
“It never occurred to any of us, I guess. Besides, Ward’s
body must have sunk into the snow before it slid inside the
lobby.” Judith checked the grate, the closet, the bathroom,
then went to the windows. The rain was still pouring down
and the snow had melted another two inches. The dull, gray
morning light cast a pall over the landscape.
“At least we can see something out there,” Renie noted.
“Not that there’s much to see except melting snow.”
218 / Mary Daheim
Judith, however, wasn’t looking at the gloomy scenery.
She opened one of the windows which, like the others in the
guest rooms, swung inward. “Stand here, coz. I’m going to
try to kill you.”
“Oh, goody,” Renie said, but complied.
Judith approached Renie from behind. “Lean out over the
sill, as if you were looking for something.”
“Okay.” Renie leaned, bracing herself on the window
frame.
Judith contemplated her cousin’s bent-over form. “This
isn’t working. I can’t kill you because you’re too short. Let’s
change places. You sneak up behind me and put a garrote
around my neck.”
“I don’t have a garrote.” Renie gazed around the small
room. “Wasn’t Ward killed with a belt?”
“Yes. His own, presumably.” Judith sighed. “I’m getting
soaked. Use a towel.”
Renie grabbed a bath towel. “Here I come,” she said.
“Ooof!” Her assault on Judith went awry. Renie collapsed
on top of Judith. “I can’t reach your neck,” she complained.
“I may be too short, but you’re too tall.”
Judith backed up, sending Renie into the bureau. “My
point exactly,” she said, closing the window. “I’m five inches
taller than you are. Ward was about six-one. Maybe we can
eliminate Russell and Nadia. She’s not as tall as you are, and
Russell can’t be much over five-eight.”
“Margo’s no taller than that,” Renie noted, regaining her
balance. “What if Ward was sitting down?”
“Where?” Judith looked around. The armchairs were at
the other side of the room.
Renie pointed to the space between the windows. “On the
honor bar. Heck, anywhere. Whoever killed him must have
had to push him out the window.”
“That indicates strength,” Judith said, running her hands
through her hair which had gotten quite wet while she hung
out of the window. “Oh, shoot—we’ve been through all
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 219
this. An adrenaline rush can accomplish just about anything.”
Renie was heading for the door. “I’ve had a good time,
but this wasn’t it,” she said. “Let’s finish our fruitless search.”
“Okay,” sighed Judith, then stopped next to the bureau.
“Did you see this?”
“What?” Renie sounded impatient.
Judith bent down. “It’s some kind of pin. You must have
knocked it loose when you fell against the bureau. It says,
‘Bell System—twenty-five years service.’”
Renie examined the pin and nodded. “So who has twentyfive years of service before coming to OTIOSE? Ward comes
to mind. It’s probably his.”
Judith’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. “Oh, well. I
was hoping it would point to somebody else.” She took the
pin from Renie and placed it on the bureau.
It didn’t surprise the cousins to find that Margo had locked
her door. Nadia’s was open, however. Unlike the other
rooms, hers was cluttered. Clothes, cosmetics, notebooks,
paperbacks, perfume, and enough lingerie to last through an
arctic winter filled every nook and cranny. But none of it
seemed pertinent to the murders.
“This must be Frank’s room,” Judith said, nodding at the
door next to Nadia’s.
It was also unlocked, and if not cluttered, it was messy.
Frank Killegrew was obviously not a man who was used to
looking after himself. The bed was unmade, the cap was off
the toothpaste tube, the sink was full of whiskers. But except
for evidence of being spoiled, the cousins found nothing.
“That’s it,” Renie declared. “We flunked. I think I’ll go