“He says he’s being followed by some man,” Auntie Lil explained. “He doesn’t know who the man is.”
“Some man? That’s nonsense.” Nikki perched on the arm of the sofa and swung a leg anxiously. “Mikey is very imaginative. His father let him watch too many movies. Do you really think anyone would bother to follow a child?”
“Did you ever think anyone would bother to kill your ex-husband?” Auntie Lil pointed out.
Nikki was silent for a moment. “I got a call a little while ago. The man sounded very sinister. He said he had Mikey with him.”
Auntie Lil looked away. “I know who that was. He was just trying to let you know Mikey was safe. Mikey disconnected him before he could tell you where he was. Your son is very serious about running away if anyone knows where he is.”
Nikki frowned and brushed a lock of dark hair off her forehead. “Why would anyone want to harm Mikey?” she asked. “He doesn’t have an enemy in the world. Unlike his father.”
“I thought maybe you could tell me that,” Auntie Lil replied.
“I’ve told you everything I know,” Nikki said. “I thought I was very cooperative considering the circumstances.”
“But did you tell me everything? You never told me that you knew Andrew Perkins.”
Nikki’s expression was blank. “You never asked me if knew him,” she answered.
Auntie Lil had to admit this was true, but still wanted to know more. “But you do know him?” she asked.
“Of course I know him. His daughter has been in the Metro’s School for the past six years. Two of my other children besides Mikey have attended classes there. And his daughter danced the lead with Mikey the night that...” She paused. “The night that Bobby was killed.”
“And you’re aware of his history with your ex-husband? That they acted together as children?”
“Of course I am.” She looked around as if searching for something. Her eyes lingered on the row of liquor bottles atop the sideboard before she quickly looked away. “I thought at first that Andrew was only interested in me because I was Bobby’s wife. Especially since he became really friendly following my divorce. I thought maybe he wanted to try to hurt Bobby by, well, I don’t know the word to use—by romancing me, maybe. I knew they had been rivals. I also knew Andrew’s wife had left him and he was alone. I thought maybe he had something to prove to Bobby by sleeping with me. But I squelched that idea pretty quickly and Andrew backed off without giving me any trouble about it. We’re just good friends now.”
“How good?” Auntie Lil asked without apology.
“We have dinner occasionally,” Nikki explained. “We’ve taken the kids out together. Not all of them. That would be a zoo. Andrew brings Julie and I bring Mikey.” She smiled. “I get the impression that Mikey may have a little crush on Julie. She’s a few years older, but from the way he acts I can tell he thinks he’s in love. It’s cute.”
“It’s not very cute if Julie doesn’t feel the same way back,” Auntie Lil pointed out. “Children that age are easily hurt.”
“She likes him fine,” Nikki said. “After all, he is a star. Although she does act like she thinks he’s a little young. But I think that’s good for Mikey. It’s the most normal I’ve ever seen him behave. Or be treated. It’s just puppy love. He’ll survive.”
“But you meet Andrew without the children also,” Auntie Lil said, without explaining how she knew.
Nikki shrugged. “I help him out by giving him advice on Julie,” she explained. “She’s been without a mother for almost four years now. He doesn’t know how to handle her. Julie is difficult.” She struggled to explain. “She grew up very quickly. Young dancers do. Then, when her mother left, she had to grow up even faster. Andrew doesn’t know what to do with her now that she’s a grown woman at age sixteen. He’s had problems.”
“What kind of problems?” Auntie Lil asked.
Nikki hesitated. “They’re private problems, really.”
“Nikki,” Auntie Lil said. “I understand that you promised Andrew you would be discreet. But there has been a murder and Mikey may be in danger and I don’t think it’s appropriate to hold back any secrets at this point.”
Nikki thought it over and continued. “Julie’s been smoking. But so what? So does Andrew, like a chimney. Which makes it hard for him to lecture her on that particular subject. Besides, it’s an occupational hazard for dancers trying to keep their weight down. But she’s also been rebellious. Staying out late at night. Skipping her gym workouts. Not eating. Her weight is dangerously low now and she’s losing strength. It’s affecting her dancing. I told Andrew he had to send her to an eating-disorder specialist, but she refused to go.” She stopped, her voice hesitating as if she had more to say but was not quite sure if she should bring it up.
“What is it?” Auntie Lil asked. “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s probably the most important thing of all.”
Nikki shook her head. “I remember when I was Julie’s age,” she said. “I wanted so badly to be grown up and for people to take me seriously as an adult. Now I would give anything to be sixteen again.” She smiled sadly. “She started staying out all night occasionally. It was during Nutcracker rehearsals and Andrew was furious. It was Julie’s first big role and she was having trouble handling it. Staying out all night didn’t help. He confronted her about it and they fought. She began coming home late after that, but she did come home at least.”
“When did she move out?” Auntie Lil asked.
Nikki looked at her in surprise. “How did you know that?” she asked.
“I saw her room. It was obvious.”
“She left right after Bobby died,” Nikki explained. “I think Julie knew they were going to take the role away from her after Mikey pulled out and the door was opened for Fatima Jones to take over. She didn’t want to deal with her father about it. Andrew pushed her too hard. He was just like Bobby in that respect. He wanted his child to make up for all he’d never achieved himself. I told him to back off but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Where is she staying?” Auntie Lil asked.
Nikki shrugged. “I have no idea. I see her at the Metro between classes and sometimes Andrew tries to talk to her, but she just walks away. But at least we know she’s okay. I assume she’s with a friend.” Nikki sighed. “Andrew raised her to skip right over childhood. Now she’s operating like an adult. That’s what happens.”
“Why did you see Andrew tonight?” Auntie Lil asked.
Nikki raised her eyebrows. “We had dinner. Am I to assume that I’m being followed, too?” Her tone was dry.
“An acquaintance happened to see you picking him up at Lincoln Center,” Auntie Lil explained. “ I would never have you followed without permission.”
“That’s a relief,” she said sarcastically. She stared down the hallway. “One day your life is perfectly normal. You get your kids up in the morning, dressed, and off to school. You wait for them to come home at night. The next day you’re surrounded by murder, your son runs away from you in fear, and the entire world is asking you questions.”
“You think Mikey is running from you in fear?”
Nikki’s voice was steady. “I believe my son no longer thinks of me as his mother, so he has not even considered turning to me in his fear. I also believe Bobby did this entire family irreparable damage when he took Mikey away with him to Los Angeles. I don’t think I will ever be able to make up for it now. Besides, Mikey is angry at me right now.”
“Why?” Auntie Lil asked.
“He wants to continue his movie career and I think it’s time for him to take a break. He can wait out a few years, make the leap from boy to young man, and then maybe try again. God knows we have enough money.”
“But it’s not what Mikey wants,” Auntie Lil said.
“I’m his mother,” Nikki replied firmly.
Auntie Lil sighed. “Mikey is already a star,” she pointed out. “He’s learned how to throw his weight around and get w
hat he wants. Take my advice. Compromise. Let Mikey be in one more movie, then he can take a break.”
She thought for a moment. “Kill two birds with one stone,” Auntie Lil added. “Save yourself years of litigation. Let Mikey do the movie for Gene Levitt after all, if it’s not too late. Everyone will be better off.”
Nikki stood. “Maybe. I’ll talk to my lawyers about it.” She yawned involuntarily and shrugged an apology. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get up at six o’clock to marshal the troops. Do I have your personal assurance that Mikey is perfectly safe? Or do I need to lie in bed awake and worry?”
“You have my word,” Auntie Lil promised. “He’s in no danger whatsoever.”
14
His coffee table was heaped with empty Chinese food containers. Hot mustard was smeared across one edge. A pair of dirty tennis shoes marred the pristine nap of his living-room rug and the dining room table was littered with white paper bags and empty take-out plates from a nearby diner. Brenda and Eddie were crouched in the center of the table, snarling at each other over a leftover chunk of bagel and lox. Syrup from a double serving of pecan waffles had left a trail like a snail across the polished oak surface of his beloved heirloom.
T.S. surveyed the mess and sighed. Mikey Morgan looked upon the telephone as his umbilical cord. In the past twelve hours, the boy had ordered in both a late-night dinner and his breakfast—never in his life had T.S. been so decadent as to order breakfast delivered—and had then spent an inordinate amount of time talking to a woman named “Candy.” Once T.S. discovered that Mikey was watching a soft-porn cable channel consisting chiefly of phone-sex ads, he put a stop to the Candy business. But he was dreading the day his phone bill arrived. Mikey was now napping on the sofa with his stockinged feet propped up on a raw silk pillow. T.S. had no intention of waking him to tell him to remove his feet. So long as Mikey was silent, he would endure any indignity.
He tiptoed to the telephone and called Margo McGregor to request the photographs of last spring’s Metro Los Angeles ball. The columnist was persistent in demanding why he needed them, but after T.S. assured her Auntie Lil would keep her promise to break any news through her first, Margo agreed to the request. She promised to put a rush on the order and would messenger them over in early evening, if possible.
T.S. hung up feeling the first small flush of satisfaction that day. Unfortunately, Brenda and Eddie had finished their tussle over the salmon and, before they could be stopped, pattered over to the couch to leap on Mikey’s stomach. They landed with a solid thud, waking the boy at once. “What time is it?” Mikey asked, swatting the cats to the floor. “I’m hungry. Let’s order something in.”
“It’s only eleven o’clock,” T.S. protested, suddenly realizing that he was missing his favorite talk show. “And you just had breakfast.” The child had slept disgracefully late, not rising until nine o’clock.
“Oh, yeah.” Mikey swung his feet around until he was in a sitting position, knocking a take-out carton off the table as he did so. A dried-up dumpling tumbled to the carpet and lay there like some sort of alien egg. “I’m bored. There’s nothing good on TV.” As if to illustrate his point, Mikey proceeded to click through all seventy-seven channels.
T.S. sought refuge in the kitchen and sipped his fifth cup of coffee of the day. Auntie Lil would pay for this, he vowed. He’d think of a way.
“I’m bored,” Mikey announced again, appearing at the kitchen door. “Let’s go buy some computer games. With your big screen, it will be cool.”
“Computer games?” T.S. repeated, his mind leaping with optimistic fervor to one key thought: if he could plug the boy into electronic pastimes, maybe he’d get some peace and quiet. “What kind of games?”
“Let’s get Sega Genesis and Nintendo. I can afford it.” Mikey produced a platinum American Express card from a jeans pocket and held it up. “My treat. Mom never lets me buy Sega games. She says they’re too violent. But you’ll love them.”
T.S. did not hear. He was too busy staring at the credit card. Fourteen years old and the kid probably earned a hundred times more per year than any annual salary T.S. had ever pulled down.
“Where can we buy the games?” Mikey asked.
“There are a couple of electronics stores over on Third Avenue,” T.S. said. “But I thought you were too afraid to go outside.”
“No problem.” Mikey tucked his credit card back in place. “I can disguise myself in your clothes.”
Auntie Lil hurried down the pathway toward the Metro’s back entrance. She had overslept and then taken longer than usual to go through her morning routine. She should never have used growing old as an excuse to T.S. the night before. It was a jinx. Her bones had woken up tired. At least the glorious sun revived her. She breathed in the fresh air and admired the day. Behind her, she heard a tap, tap, tap approaching—it sounded almost like a machine gun—and turned to find Herbert hurrying after her.
“Lillian!” he called out. “I’m so sorry. I was delayed.”
Auntie Lil stared at his feet. He wore black shiny shoes that did not fit his casual attire.
“I know they don’t match,” Herbert apologized. “I’ve just had a ballroom dancing lesson.”
“What kind of shoes are those?” Auntie Lil demanded.
Herbert looked perplexed. “Ordinary men’s dress shoes. The kind one would wear with a tuxedo. I wear them to ballroom dancing practice since I dance most often at formal events.”
“That’s it,” Auntie Lil decided. “The Reverend Hampton heard a man wearing dress shoes running down this path. That’s the tapping sound he was talking about.”
“Does that narrow it down?” Herbert asked.
“Not on opening night, it doesn’t,” Auntie Lil conceded. “But it does rule out anyone wearing dance shoes. They would be softer and less likely to make a sound.”
“What is the purpose of our visit this afternoon?” Herbert asked her, falling easily into step beside Auntie Lil.
“To catch a liar,” Auntie Lil replied.
The Metro’s backstage halls were deserted. Most of the dancers were in class. Classical tunes mingled and overlapped as they passed by each door. Auntie Lil peeked in a few windows and saw solemn rows of Metro dancers bending and stretching to the steady beat of piano music. But the legendary Lisette Martinez was not among them.
“Maybe she doesn’t need to practice?” Herbert suggested.
“Everyone takes classes at the Metro,” Auntie Lil said. “She’s here somewhere.” They passed by the dancers’ lounge and Auntie Lil stuck her head inside. Lisette Martinez sat on the lumpy couch, her feet tucked beneath her, holding an unlit cigarette and gazing at it with longing. She did not seem to recognize Auntie Lil when she entered the room.
“You don’t remember me?” Auntie Lil said. Herbert stood at the doorway quietly, saying nothing.
Lisette looked up at her and her expression was unreadable. “I remember you now,” she said flatly.
“May I sit down?” Auntie Lil asked.
“Can I stop you?” the dancer replied.
Auntie Lil took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. “The first time we talked, you said you didn’t meet Bobby Morgan until Nutcracker rehearsals began,” Auntie Lil said.
“That’s right. What of it?” Lisette raised the cigarette absently to her lips, realized it was not lit, and dropped it back down in her lap.
“But you attended the Metro charity ball in Los Angeles last spring,” Auntie Lil said. “And Bobby Morgan was there.”
“So were six hundred other people and I didn’t meet all of them.”
“You’re the prima ballerina of the Metro,” Auntie Lil pointed out. And you yourself told me that he always flirts with the most famous women around. I believe you said that he had a need to do so.”
Lisette yawned. “I can’t remember every man I meet. It would be impossible. I am frequently approached.”
“Bobby Morgan did not strike me as a man who was e
asy to forget.”
Lisette shrugged. “Why is it so important when I met him?”
“Someone’s coming,” Herbert announced from the door. “And I do not think that you will like who—” He stopped abruptly as Raoul Martinez charged into the room.
“Why aren’t you in class?” he demanded of his wife. He saw Auntie Lil and his face flushed with anger. “I told you to stay away from my wife.”
“I was just passing by,” Auntie Lil explained innocently.
The artistic director stepped close to Auntie Lil and towered over her as he spoke, trying to intimidate her with his size. He was a powerful man and his muscles quivered against his tight-fitting leotard top as he struggled to maintain his temper. “I am going to tell you this one more time,” he said. “The board may have given you the right to poke around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, but I have absolute power when it comes to what goes on backstage or onstage here at the Metro. If you ever come near my wife again, I will have to see that you—”
“See that she what?” Herbert asked, sliding in between the larger man and Auntie Lil. Herbert was small, but his power seemed all the greater for being so compact. He waited quietly for an answer and his body was still and calm. His breathing was slow, but his eyes never left Martinez’s face.
The artistic director looked away and his gaze settled on his wife. “Get to class now,” he ordered. “I won’t have you evading classes when the others must be there.”
Lisette stood and stretched elaborately, knocking the unlit cigarette to the floor. She glanced down at it then deliberately ground it into the carpet as she strode by her husband and glided gracefully from the room. Martinez glared at Auntie Lil as if it were her fault.
“I have a right to be here,” Auntie Lil said, more calmly than she felt.
“Stay away from my wife,” Martinez ordered again. “And stay away from me.” He turned abruptly and stomped from the room, but the effect was spoiled by the shoes he wore. It’s hard to stomp in soft leather slippers.
A Motive for Murder Page 24
