“Stop sounding like a corporate clone,” Judith said, more
severely than she intended. “Wouldn’t it be better to go to
Frank Killegrew?”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 79
Renie considered. “Maybe. Yes, you’re right. Let’s do it.”
But the cousins had no idea which room belonged to Killegrew. Bewildered, they stood in the dimly lit second-floor
corridor and scanned the various doors.
“To hell with it,” Renie finally said, and knocked at the
one in front of her. There was no response; she knocked
again.
“Maybe,” Judith whispered, “that was Leon Mooney’s
room.”
Renie grimaced. “You might be right.” She moved on to
the next door on the right.
Only a single knock was required before the cousins heard
noises inside. Then Andrea Piccoloni-Roth, attired in a lavender satin robe, opened the door. Seeing the cousins, she
blinked twice and gave a little start.
“What is it?” she asked in a low voice.
Renie swallowed hard. “It’s Leon Mooney. I’m afraid—I’m
really sorry, Andrea—but he’s dead.”
In a flurry of lavender satin, Andrea Piccoloni-Roth collapsed onto the brightly colored Navajo rug.
“It would have been nice,” Renie said as Judith tried to
rouse Andrea, “if they’d included the company medical chief
on this trek. Not to mention their head of security.”
Judith didn’t respond. Her concern was for Andrea, who
was beginning to move, though her eyes were still shut. At
last, the heavy lids fluttered open.
“Oh,” Andrea said in a lifeless voice. “It’s you.”
“Do you want to sit up?” Judith inquired.
Andrea’s eyes, which were a light brown with flecks of
green, wandered around the room “I don’t know. I don’t
care.” She pressed a plump fist to her carefully made-up
cheek. “What happened?” Her voice was hollow.
“We’re not sure,” Judith temporized.
As usual, Renie was less tactful. “Somebody hit Leon
80 / Mary Daheim
on the back of the head with that soapstone carving. I’m
sorry, Andrea, but it looks like he was murdered, too.”
Andrea’s mouth fell open, her eyes bulged, and then she
began to hiccup. It was a struggle, but Judith managed to
raise her to a sitting position.
“Get some water,” she said to Renie.
Renie went off to the bathroom. Andrea’s wide shoulders
were heaving; the hiccups continued. Judith fought to keep
the other woman upright.
Renie, wearing a curious expression, returned with the
water. Andrea tried to drink, sputtered, hiccuped, and finally
choked. The hiccups stopped. “Lord have mercy,” she
whispered, and crossed herself.
The cousins automatically followed suit. “Was Leon a
Catholic?” Judith asked.
Andrea shook her head. The upswept silver hair had come
loose, and strands trailed down her back. “No. But I am.”
“So are we,” Judith replied, hoping the religious affinity
might somehow comfort Andrea. “Would you like to lie
down?”
Together, Judith and Renie got Andrea to her feet and
guided her to the nearest of the twin beds. The room was
almost identical to the one shared by the cousins, except that
the painting was of an alpine meadow, and the photograph
showed the completed lodge.
“What’s happening?” Andrea asked in a frantic voice as
Judith propped an extra pillow from the other twin bed behind her. “Could there be a serial killer loose in these
mountains?”
“I don’t know,” Judith replied in all honesty. “I think we’d
all better watch out for ourselves from now on.”
“Oh, my.” Andrea covered her face with her hands. “I can’t
believe this!” she wailed. “Who would kill a decent little man
like Leon? Or Barry, for that matter. It’s insane!”
Judith sat down on the other twin bed. “If you have an
idea—any idea at all—who’d want to harm them, you
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 81
ought to say so. This situation is getting more than ugly.”
“But I don’t!” Andrea removed her hands, revealing a face
drained of color except for a touch of blush on each cheek.
“This isn’t the Mafia, this is the phone company!”
Neither Judith nor Renie responded immediately. Finally,
Renie spoke up. “The others have to be told. Are you up to
it, Andrea?”
Andrea frowned, appeared to concentrate, then slumped
back against the pillows. “No. In fact, I’d like to be left
alone.”
There was no choice. Judith and Renie went back into the
corridor. They had barely shut the door behind them when
Renie grabbed Judith by the arm. “Coz! That’s not Andrea’s
room! Didn’t you notice that there were no female-type items
anywhere? When I went into the bathroom, there was a
man’s shaving kit.” In her excitement, Renie’s voice had
started to rise. She quickly lowered her tone, and glanced
around to make sure no one had heard her. “There was also
a prescription for allergies,” she whispered. “It was made out
to Leon Mooney.”
Judith usually wasn’t so unobservant. But between the
shock of finding Leon’s body and trying to cope with Andrea,
she simply hadn’t noticed the absence of feminine articles.
“She was wearing makeup,” Judith said, then grimaced.
“You think she was having an affair with Leon? ”
“It’s possible. Men and women possess strange attractions
for each other that are sometimes hard for the rest of us to
fathom.” Renie pointed to the door where they’d gotten no
response. “I’ll bet that’s Andrea’s room. She was in his,
waiting for him. Maybe…” Renie paused and swallowed
hard. “Maybe he was bringing them both a piece of cake.”
“Is Andrea married or divorced?” Judith asked, still marveling at the thought of an amorous Leon Mooney.
“Married,” Renie responded, beginning to pace the corridor. “Her husband, Alan Roth, is an unemployed com- 82 / Mary Daheim
puter genius. You know the type.” Renie raised her eyebrows.
“I know the unemployed part, but the genius eludes me,”
Judith replied just as Ward Haugland poked his head out of
the door directly across from them.
“What’s going on out here?” he demanded, exhibiting
uncharacteristic testiness. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
Renie, who disliked being snapped at under any circumstances, turned sharply. “Leon Mooney’s been murdered.
Pleasant dreams, Ward.”
“What?” Ward’s usual drawl was swallowed up in a single
bellow.
Renie had turned her back on the executive vice president,
but perceiving what appeared to be both shock and horror
on his face, Judith took pity. “It’s true, Mr. Haugland. We
found his body in the kitchen about half an hour ago. Do
you think you could tell the others?”
There was no need. Doors were now opening on both
sides of the corridor. Margo, Max, G
ene, Russell, Ava, Nadia,
and finally Frank Killegrew all peered out of their respective
rooms.
Ward delivered the bad news, then waited for the cousins
to elaborate. This time, Renie deferred to Judith. “She saw
him first,” Renie declared in a slightly sulky voice.
Judith explained, briefly, if a bit haltingly. The circle of
faces ranged from a distraught Nadia Weiss to a stoic Gene
Jarman. Naturally, Frank Killegrew assumed command.
“Let’s go down to the lobby,” he said, his usually broad
shoulders slumped under a bright blue bathrobe. “Nadia,
call the police. Again.”
“It seems the phone lines are down,” Renie said, not
without a trace of satisfaction. “It’s too bad you don’t have
underground wiring up here.”
Killegrew scowled, then stepped into the elevator, along
with Ward, Gene, and Ava. The others waited. Apparently,
thought Judith, there was a pecking order even when it came
to elevator riding.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 83
“Why the hell would someone kill Leon Mooney?” Max
muttered. “That little guy wouldn’t step on a bug.”
“Mooney’s money,” Margo said softly. “That’s what we’ve
always called the comptroller’s shop, isn’t it? Maybe he was
juggling the books.”
“Not Leon,” Max responded. “What would be the point?
The man had no life outside of the job.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Russell said, on the
defensive. “Some of us love our work. Usually.” He shot Max
a dark glance and rubbed the bump on his head.
Judith hadn’t mentioned anything about the weapon that
had presumably killed Leon. With a sidelong look at Max,
she wondered if he’d used it again, and for a more lethal
purpose. But anyone could have used the carving to deliver
a death blow. The last time Judith had seen the soapstone
Eskimo, it had been in the hands of Margo Chang.
The elevator returned; Russell, Margo, Max, and Nadia
got in. The cousins were left alone in the hallway.
“I guess we know where we fit into the scheme of things,”
Judith remarked. “Dead last.”
Renie elbowed Judith. “Don’t say things like that.”
Judith gave a nod. “Okay. I’ll stick to conjecture, guesswork, and speculation. I take it Leon wasn’t married?”
“I don’t think so,” Renie replied as the elevator doors slid
open. “Somewhere along the line I heard he lived with his
mother until she died a year or so ago.”
The doors were about to close when a frantic voice called
from down the hall. Judith quickly pressed the “open” button.
Andrea dashed inside, still in her robe, but with her hair
swept back up on top of her head.
“I heard all the commotion in the corridor,” she said in a
breathless voice. “I decided I’d better not miss out on what
was happening. Did anyone ask where I was?”
No one had, at least not as far as the cousins could recall.
Andrea looked relieved, then disappointed. Judith wondered
if being overlooked was worse than being chastised.
84 / Mary Daheim
“How are you feeling?” Renie asked as the car glided to
the first floor.
“I’ll survive,” Andrea replied, but her voice was listless.
The bar had been reopened in the lobby. Nadia, in fact,
was carrying more bottles in from the dining room.
“I won’t go in the kitchen,” she declared, looking mulish.
“You’ll have to reuse your glasses.”
“I’ll go in the kitchen,” Max volunteered. “I was in ’Nam.
Stiffs don’t scare me.” He stalked out of the lobby, his short
plaid robe flapping around his pajama-clad legs.
“I was in Korea,” Killegrew said in a troubled voice, “but
I don’t think I want to see poor Leon.” He made a faint gesture in the direction of the kitchen. “The only thing is, we
can’t leave him there. We have to eat.”
But Gene Jarman shook his head. “We can’t move the
body. We have to wait for the authorities.” He turned to Judith and Renie, who had managed to squeeze onto one of
the sofas next to Ava. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?”
“Only the light switch,” Judith said.
Ward leaned forward from his place on one of the other
sofas that ringed the big coffee table. “Did you say you knew
the chief of police?”
“Ah…” Judith hesitated. “Not personally.” It was more or
less true. Judith had met the chief at various departmental
functions, but she doubted that he would recall to whom
she was attached.
“See here,” Killegrew said, ignoring both Ward’s question
and Judith’s response, “we can’t have a dead body underfoot,
Gene. I don’t care what the rules and regulations are. We’ve
got to keep this ship afloat.”
“Frank,” Gene began, “we can’t take the law into our
own…”
“The law!” Killegrew made a dismissive gesture. “This is
jungle law around here! Some maniac is on the loose, we
can’t get through to the authorities—though I’m sure that
this is only a temporary lapse and service will be re- SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 85
stored promptly—and there’s no way out until the storm
breaks. I’m perfectly willing to take responsibility.”
“I’d like that in writing,” Gene murmured.
poor old Leon down to the basement. There’s a safe behind
the desk here in the lobby. We’ll lock up the so-called
weapon in there. I’ll do it myself, you can watch me. Then
we can restore some semblance of order to this retreat.”
“Oh, Frank!” It was Andrea, bursting into tears. “How can
you? This isn’t normal! This is horrible!”
“Now, now,” urged Killegrew, coming over to pat Andrea’s
heaving shoulders, “there’s no point in going to pieces. The
telecommunications industry has gone through more terrible
times than this—the great blizzard of 1888, the Johnstown
flood, the San Francisco earthquake and fire, the Depression,
a bunch of wars, strikes, antitrust suits, Judge Harold Greene,
and the breakup of the Bell System. It’s just that what’s
happened to us here hits close to home. But bear up, the
train’s still on track. We have to show our mettle. After all,
we’re OTIOSE.”
The rallying cry did not go unheeded. “Here, here!” Ward
Haugland shouted, clapping his hands. “You’re darned
tootin’, Frank. What happened to Barry and now what’s
happened to Leon is pretty danged bad, but let’s face it,
we’ve got a business to run.” Somewhat clumsily, Ward got
to his feet. “Come on, Gene, let’s get Leon out of the way.”
OTIOSE’s corporate counsel held up both hands. “Sorry,
Ward. I won’t be a party to this. It’s not legal.”
Exasperated, Ward turned to Russell. “How about you?”
Russell grimaced. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, but
I’m rather…squeam
ish. I’d rather remember Leon as he was.”
“He was one pretty darned homely little bugger, if you ask
me,” Ward muttered. “I don’t reckon that being dead has
made him look much worse.”
86 / Mary Daheim
Andrea’s sobs grew louder. “I can’t bear it! Shut up, Ward!
I hate you!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Ward threw up his hands. “I’ll get
Max. He won’t weasel out on me.”
Reluctantly, Gene got to his feet. “I’ll get the weapon. I’ll
wrap it in a towel.”
Killegrew’s expression was uneasy as he watched his
second-in-command and his legal counsel depart. “Did anybody bring a laptop?” he asked.
Margo sneered. “You told us to leave everything at the office except our fertile brains. No distractions, remember?”
“Yes, well…hmm.” Killegrew fingered his jutting chin.
“Maybe that was a mistake. In retrospect, of course. We
might have faxed somebody for help.”
“Using what?” put in Ava. “If the phone lines are down,
so are the fax lines. In case you’ve forgotten, Frank, they use
the same wire.”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Killegrew snapped, though
his face turned red. “I just thought that with all your gee-whiz
expertise, there might be another way.” He glared at Ava.
She gave the CEO an arch little smile. “I’m afraid not.
We’re helpless. We might as well be living in the nineteenth
century.”
Killegrew turned to Margo. “I hope you’re coming up with
some ideas about how to keep this from the media. I don’t
want a scandal. OTIOSE can’t afford bad press right now.”
“It’s a murder case,” Margo said. “Two murders. There’ll
be an investigation. You can’t hush that up.”
“You damned well better try,” Killegrew growled. “It’s your
job.” It wasn’t just a reminder; it sounded to Judith more like
a threat.
Andrea’s sobs had finally subsided. She raised a haggard
face and spoke in a surprisingly strong voice. “We’ve got
another, more important job, if you ask me. In case it
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 87
slipped everybody’s mind, I’m vice president-human resources. We’ve lost two of those human resources, in a most
inhumane manner. I want something done about it, and I
want to start now.”
The motherly velvet glove had been thrown down; the
plump iron fist was shaking at Frank Killegrew. He drew