Tippy Toe Murder

by Leslie Meier

  “Sure.” Lucy sat down at the kitchen table and glanced around while she collected her thoughts. Sue had recently redone the kitchen, abandoning the country look for a slicker fifties effect. Now the floor was covered with black and white vinyl tile, and custom-made shelves displayed her collections of cookie jars and humorous salt and pepper shakers.

  Sue put the cake in the middle of the red Formica table and poured two cups of herb tea. Lucy waited for her to sit down and slice the cake before beginning.

  “I think Caro’s at her family’s old summer place. It’s way off the road in the woods near Bridgton, close to Crystal Falls.” “How did you come to this conclusion?” asked Sue, taking a bite of cake.

  “Lots of little things kind of fell into place. I had a chance to look at her family album and there were pictures of the cabin and the falls. Barney said she was actually seen in North Conway, and that’s not far from there. It seems right somehow.” “Who saw her?”

  “A state trooper. And she had a little kid with her.”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me,” argued Sue. “Why would she make such a secret about going to her summer place?”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you about,” said Lucy. She took a sip of tea. “Tatiana told me one of Caro’s old students is in jail because of a divorce. Maybe she’s refusing to give up her child and she’s asked Caro to hide the kid. Do you know anything about that sort of thing? Does it come up at the women’s center?”

  “What’s her name?” asked Sue sharply.

  “I think it’s Ludmila . . . no. Louise.”

  “Louise!” exclaimed Sue. “Where have you been, Lucy? Don’t you read the papers?”

  “All I seem to read anymore is this book on painless childbirth. I can’t seem to get through it.”

  “I hate science fiction, too,” quipped Sue, leaving the kitchen and returning with a pile of Time magazines. “There was a story in here pretty recently,” she muttered, checking the tables of contents. “Here it is. ‘Sexual Slavery in D.C.’ All about the Philip Roderick case. It’s been in the news for weeks.”

  “Philip Roderick? That’s the name of Franny’s lawyer.” “Fred’s old college buddy is Philip Roderick?” Sue was incredulous. “If it’s the same Philip Roderick, he’s a beast.”

  “I met him,” said Lucy. “He’s charming.”

  “Well, read this.” Sue shoved the magazine across the table. “See how charming you think he is.”

  Lucy helped herself to another piece of cake and took the magazine.

  “ ‘Normally unflappable residents of the nation’s capital, jaded as they are by the antics of congressmen and senators, reeled last week as details of a bizarre case of sexual slavery and child abuse unfolded in probate court,’ “ read Lucy.

  “ ‘Pleading for a divorce, Louise Roderick charged that her husband, prominent lawyer Philip Roderick, had abused her and forced her to become a sexual slave.

  “ ‘ “I trained as a ballet dancer, so I was used to discipline. I never questioned the things my husband asked me to do; I guess I wanted to be dominated,” confessed Louise Roderick, explaining why she went along with her husband’s demands for kinky sex, which included bondage and whippings.

  “ ‘Louise Roderick’s tolerance ended, however, when she discovered Philip Roderick was having sex with their daughter, Melissa, then five years old. “I found bloodstains in her underwear, and when I questioned her she became very withdrawn. She used to have lunch with Philip every Saturday, and afterward he’d take her to a movie. I didn’t realize that they stopped at his office in between.”

  “ ‘This realization prompted Louise Roderick to seek counseling, and soon after she demanded a separation. Melissa, now seven, lives with her mother, and her therapist reports she has made “great progress toward recovery.”

  “ ‘Family Court Judge Willard Hayes, however, was not impressed with Louise Roderick’s claims and awarded custody of the child to Philip Roderick. In his decision he cited Louise Roderick’s mental instability, and her inability to support the child. Louise Roderick has been collecting welfare since the separation, having refused her wealthy husband’s offer of a generous allowance and child support.

  “ ‘Welfare officials are reportedly looking into whether Louise Roderick is legally entitled to collect payments, now that it has been revealed that she refused support from her husband.’ “Oh, my God,” said Lucy, slicing another piece of cake. “He had sex with a five-year-old?”

  “His own child.” Sue nodded. “Is it the same guy?”

  Lucy studied the picture alongside the article. “It’s him. But maybe he didn’t do it. The judge didn’t believe the wife’s story.”

  Sue gave a snort of disgust. “It’s classic. They never do. They always side with the man, especially if he’s rich and prominent.”

  “So you believe the wife?”

  “Lucy, imagine how much courage it took for her to speak out. She’s gone to jail rather than let the child go with the father. She wouldn’t do that if he were Mr. Rogers.”

  “This must be the ‘other business’ Fred said Phil had in the area,” mused Lucy. “He must suspect Caro’s hiding the child.” “He probably does. He’s no dummy. You mustn’t breathe a word about this cabin. Do many people know about it?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve never heard anybody mention it. Miss Tilley didn’t say anything about it, and I think she would have if she knew Caro was in the habit of going there. Barney didn’t say anything, so I don’t think the police checked it. When we looked at the albums, Tatiana didn’t recognize it or anything. It’s kind of odd when you think about it, that she never invited anybody there.”

  “I don’t know. There are times I’d like to have a private retreat. Someplace I could go where nobody could find me.” “A place where you could take a bath without anyone knocking on the bathroom door.”

  “Or find the scissors exactly where you left them,” said Sue, shutting a drawer. “I was going to cut that article out for you, but I can’t find the damn scissors.”

  “Never mind. I can tear it. I want to show it to Tatiana and

  Miss Tilley. Barney, too. If they know what’s going on they’ll pipe down about looking for Caro.”

  “Don’t tell Barney,” warned Sue.

  “Why not?”

  “Lucy! Caro’s breaking the law, and he’s a cop. He’d have to arrest her and give the little girl to Roderick. He’s got legal custody.”

  “This stinks,” said Lucy. Until now, she’d always believed the law was on her side.

  “Yeah,” agreed Sue. “Want to split the last piece of cake?”

  25

  This performance is dedicated to Caroline Hutton—dancer, mentor, friend.

  Finding Tatiana’s studio empty, Lucy climbed up the stairs to her apartment. The door was ajar, so she called out a hello and went in.

  Tatiana was kneeling on the floor in front of her stereo, surrounded by a clutter of tapes and papers.

  “I’m just making sure the music is perfect for the show,” she said, looking up. “I don’t want any glitches.”

  “I can’t believe it’s this Friday,” said Lucy. “It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

  “Nerve-racking’s more like it. I only wish Caro were going to see it . . . but we had to go ahead and schedule it,” said Tatiana.

  “Everything will be fine,” said Lucy. “I’ve got something to show you. Look at this.” She retrieved the magazine page from her bag and held it out. “Is this the Louise you told me about?” “I can’t believe this,” said Tatiana, slowly sinking onto the sofa as she read the article. When she finished, she looked up at Lucy. “All I can think of is how she adored him, she couldn’t wait to get married. I remember her carrying around Bride’s magazine for months. It was a gorgeous wedding. Incredible flowers, something like six bridesmaids. I never saw her look so beautiful. This is horrible. Poor Louise.”

  She folded the paper and stroked it with
her fingers.

  “I used to wonder how she did it. She’d dance until her feet bled. She could do things I could never hope to do. Thirty-six fouetté turns in a row; she could hold an arabesque en pointe forever. I envied her so much. We all did.

  “Then one day I found her throwing up in the bathroom right after she ate lunch. I was concerned, and I asked her if she was sick. She said she was fine, she just had to watch her weight. I was disgusted. I’d never heard of such a thing.” “Were she and Caro very close?”

  “Oh, yes. I used to be jealous of that, too. Then I realized Caro knew she had problems and was trying to help her.” “You know she’s in jail now? She wouldn’t let him have the child.”

  “The child!” exclaimed Tatiana. “That’s what this is all about. I bet she asked Caro to hide her.”

  “That’s what I think, too,” said Lucy. “At the cabin. The one on the map. Near North Conway.”

  “It all fits together, doesn’t it? That’s where Barney said she was spotted.”

  “We can’t tell anybody,” cautioned Lucy. “It has to stay a secret. Roderick’s right here in town.”

  “He is?”

  “He’s supposed to be defending Ben Slack and Franny. Doing a favor for Fred.”

  “Of course. They went to the same university,” said Tatiana. “They used to come to mixers at Winchester together.” “Don’t tell anybody about the cabin,” warned Lucy. “Roderick mustn’t find them.”

  “You’re right, Lucy. I won’t say a word.”

  “I’m getting kind of nervous about those albums,” said Lucy. “I feel responsible for them. I think I’d better return them.” “Okay,” agreed Tatiana. “I’m done with them. They’re in the bedroom.”

  She went to get them, but returned empty-handed. “It’s the oddest thing,” she said in a puzzled tone. “I know they were on my bed. I was looking at them this morning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re not there. They’re gone.”

  “Are you sure?” Lucy went to look for herself. “Did you check under the bed? Maybe they fell.”

  The women went through the bedroom, and the living room, too, but they didn’t find the albums.

  “They’ve been stolen,” concluded Lucy. “Is anything else missing?”

  Tatiana shook her head.

  “Roderick must have slipped in while you were teaching.” “Roderick? Here?”

  “Who else?”

  “I had two classes of babies this morning. I can’t take my eyes off them for a minute. Anybody could have come in. I never bothered to lock the door.” She shuddered. “I hate the thought of him in my apartment, touching my things. What if I’d come upstairs?”

  “It’s lucky you didn’t.” Lucy suddenly felt sick. “Damn. He’s got the map.”

  “It was just a kid’s drawing.”

  “It was pretty detailed. It gave the name of the town, and the state highway number. All he has to do is compare it to a geological survey map. Lots of places around here sell them. To hikers.”

  “We’ve got to warn Caro. Do you think she’s got a phone?” Lucy dialed 411, and learned there was no listing for Caroline Hutton in Bridgton.

  “What about the police?”

  “They’d have to give the child to Roderick. He’s got legal custody.”

  “Then we’ll have to go ourselves,” decided Tatiana. “I’ll cancel my afternoon classes. Come on.”

  Lucy hesitated.

  “Well, what’s the matter?” demanded Tatiana. “They could be in danger. We don’t have any time to waste.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Lucy, surprised at her reaction. There was a time when she would have dashed off without a thought. Now, she found herself ticking off a checklist of responsibilities. Bill and Toby were going to the ball game, Sue wouldn’t mind taking the girls for the afternoon. She was free to go. Still, she felt reluctant.

  It must be the baby, she decided, patting her tummy. All those mothering hormones were making her cautious and conservative.

  “Come on, kiddo,” she said, addressing the baby. “It’s about time you learned there’s more to life than eating and sleeping.”

  26

  Pink slippers, strings tucked in.

  “Is this right? Is this fifth position?”

  Seated in a creaky old rocker on the cabin porch, Caro looked up from her needlepoint. Lisa, in her swimsuit and ballet slippers, had neatly put her feet in a close approximation to fifth position and was struggling to straighten her body and keep her balance.

  “Almost,” said Caro encouragingly. “You’ve almost got it.” She smiled, watching the little girl’s intense concentration as she tried to bring her swaying hips under control; then she returned to her needlework. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit she really enjoyed teaching the little girl she’d come to think of as Lisa. Where she had once been merciless with her college students, now she could relax and watch a young dancer develop. Immature muscles could not be forced into the proper positions, they had to be gently stretched, and coaxed to turn out.

  Caro would have been the first to say she’d had an extraordinarily rewarding life, but there had been no room for marriage or motherhood. In her day a woman had to choose; it was unthinkable to have both a career and a family.

  How long had it been? Almost three weeks since she’d left home and driven to the tourist information center at the Maine border. As instructed, she’d left her own car at home and used a secondhand car bought for cash through the want ads. Once she was at the information center, she’d looked for a woman in a lobster hat and followed her to the section of the parking lot reserved for campers. Caro brought her car alongside a twenty-two-foot Winnebago and in seconds the transfer was made. Lisa was buckled into the front seat, a duffel bag was thrown into the back, and Caro became an instant grandmother.

  Watching Lisa practice the five positions, Caro nodded approvingly. The dark smudges under Lisa’s eyes were gone, and her cheeks were now tan and plump. Her little body had also rounded out, thanks to Caro’s old-fashioned notions about feeding children. In her day boys and girls ate nursery food, dishes rich in milk and carbohydrates, so Caro cooked pancakes, macaroni and cheese, rice pudding, and tuna wiggle for Lisa. And carrots, lots of carrots.

  Lisa wasn’t used to these kinds of meals but she ate heartily. Caro was surprised at how much this pleased her. Somehow she’d never pictured herself in the role of grandmother bountiful. She blushed to think how she used to castigate her students if they gained an extra pound or two.

  Most dramatic of all, Caro thought, was the change that had occurred in Lisa herself. The anxious hunched-forward slump and the scuttling run were gone. Nowadays she threw her shoulders back when she ran. Best of all, her nightmares had stopped and the little girl slept deeply and peacefully through the night.

  Caro didn’t know how long they could hope to stay undiscovered in the woods. At best, the unheated cabin was a summertime solution.

  For the time being, however, things were working out. Caro believed their time together had done Lisa no harm, and she hoped it had done some good. As for herself, she was wholeheartedly enjoying the present, taking each day as it came. She refused to worry. Tomorrow, she thought to herself, would take care of itself.

  27

  Students are responsible for their belongings.

  “Damn.”

  Philip Roderick stared at the brittle and faded crayon drawing in his hand, crumpled it in disgust, and tossed it away.

  The trail he’d been following had petered out—it was a road to nowhere. He was alone in the woods in his black Saab, surrounded by relentless green forest.

  He got the topographical map and a compass out of the glove compartment and climbed easily out of the car. He’d been driving for hours, and it felt good to stretch his long legs and muscular frame. He unfolded the map, spread it out on the hood of the car, and studied it.

  A cloud of gnats buzzed around hi
s head, and he waved them away, annoyed. He didn’t like the woods. The outdoors was dirty and uncomfortable; it was certainly no place for Melissa. He couldn’t wait to take his precious girl back to civilization. The car was filled with lavish presents for her—Madame Alexander dolls, party dresses, and a huge stuffed teddy bear.

  It was suddenly clear where he’d gone wrong, he realized, checking the compass. Restarting the car, he retraced his route and soon found another trail that showed signs of recent use. When he realized he was approaching a cabin, he braked and reached for his binoculars.

  Propping his elbows on the steering wheel to steady the glasses, he raised them to his eyes. He scanned the clearing, the cabin, the porch. When he caught a glimpse of the old woman at the door, his attention was riveted.

  His hands tightened on the binoculars, and his body tensed. Anger burned through him. She was poisonous. He hated her. The old witch. She’d wrecked his marriage. Always there, always meddling. She’d fastened herself on Louise. It was the one tie he’d been unable to break. She’d turned Louise against him.

  Even now, after the trial and the publicity, he still loved Louise. He’d always loved her, from the first moment he saw her. It was the way she moved, the way she tossed her shiny golden hair, the way she lowered her eyes when she spoke. He’d never wanted anyone so much before. It was more than an obsession—it had been an overwhelming physical need, like an addiction. He’d had to have her.

  He’d courted her carefully, knowing he couldn’t bear rejection. He’d showered her with notes and flowers. He’d taken her to the most expensive restaurants and the plays it was impossible to get tickets for. When she was with him, he enjoyed knowing her safety depended on him. He’d phoned her constantly, craving the sound of her voice when she said his name. He thought his heart would break when he finally heard her answer the minister, “I will.” She was finally his.

  She was everything to him, so he hadn’t understood her need for other friends. “Why do you want to go out with your girlfriends when you could be with me?” he’d ask. “Let’s have lunch at that new French restaurant downtown. I’ve heard it’s great.”