High Kicks, Hot Chocolate, and Homicides

by Mary McHugh

“Do you want us to start today?” Tina asked.

  “No, today is just a meet-and-greet,” Glenna said. “We start tomorrow. Can you get here by ten again?”

  “Absolutely,” Tina said.

  “See you tomorrow, then,” Glenna said. “I just got a call about the timing of the descent of the stage. It hasn’t been lowered at the right time in the last couple of rehearsals. I’ve got to go check on it. There’s always something.” She waved and walked off the stage.

  We said goodbye to her and walked out to the entrance of the theater.

  Outside, Tina said, “Want me to call Peter to take us home? Or do you want to spend the day in the city now that we’re here?”

  We all talked at once telling her we wanted to stay in New York for the day.

  I’m going up to the Frick to start making arrangements for my wedding reception after we finish the Christmas show. Sometime in January maybe,” Tina said. “I’ll see what’s available.”

  “Think I’ll run over to the Times and see if Alex is free for lunch and find out what’s going on in the city today,” Gini said. Alex Boyer was an editor at The New York Times. Gini met him when we danced on a cruise ship in Russia. He was bureau chief of the Moscow office at that time, and the two of them hit it off right away.

  Alex loved to travel as much as Gini did. He also admired her work. He was impressed with the prize-winning documentary she made about Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. Gini had divorced her husband several years before she met Alex because he wanted her to stay home and clean the house. That wasn’t the life for our adventurous friend so she left him. Alex was perfect for her. When he heard she was trying to adopt Amalia, a little girl she met in India while she was doing a film on the orphanages in that country, he volunteered to help her.

  The Indian government made it very difficult for a foreigner to adopt a child in their country. Alex promised to use his resources at the Times to find out how she could do that. Gini was obviously as much in love with Alex as he was with her, but she was wary of getting married again. For now, they did everything together except say “I do” at the altar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gini so happy.

  “I’m going to meet Tom,” Janice said. “It’s Monday, so he doesn’t have to perform today. I’m going to see if he’ll go to Governor’s Island with me. I’ve always wanted to go there. There’s an exhibit of interactive sculpture there now—whatever that is. We want to find out. We can eat at that restaurant in Battery Park and then take the ferry over to the island.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Tina said. “Enjoy, Jan.”

  Pat said she was going to have lunch with Denise, the woman she lived with in New Jersey, who worked at a public relations firm in New York.

  “I don’t often get to see Denise during the week since she’s in the city and I’m home counseling clients,” she said. “This will be a special treat for us.” She clicked on her phone to make the call.

  “What about you, Weezie?” Tina said. “Want to come to the Frick with me? I know you love that museum.”

  “No thanks, Tina,” I said. “I want to eat in some restaurant by the water.”

  I really wanted to have lunch with Mike, but I didn’t mention it to my friends. It didn’t seem right to see him again, but I knew I would call him. I loved talking to him, and I wanted to tell him about the Music Hall. He got a big kick out of everything I did, the nuttier the better.

  “Bye then, everyone,” Tina said. “Let’s meet here around five and Peter will take us home.”

  “See ya,” Gini said, heading toward the Times building.

  When they had all scattered in different directions, I called Mike.

  “Hey, love,” he said. “When’s your baby due?”

  I laughed. He always makes me laugh. He never starts a conversation asking me why I didn’t do something I was supposed to do or why I did do something I wasn’t supposed to do.

  “Hi Mike,” I said. “I’m in New York. Can you believe we’re going to dance with the Rockettes?”

  “I can believe anything you five Hoofers do,” he said. “Will I get to see you?”

  “Any chance you’ve got a free minute or two to meet me for lunch or a walk or something? We don’t actually have to start rehearsals until tomorrow.”

  “I have more than a minute or two,” he said, his voice reflecting his pleasure in hearing from me unexpectedly. “Let’s meet at The Boathouse restaurant in the park for lunch.” How did he know I wanted to eat by the water? The same way he always guessed what I really wanted to do.

  “Sounds lovely,” I said. “When?”

  “Immediately,” he said. “Grab a cab and meet me there as soon as you can. I can’t wait to see you.”

  I found a taxi right away, which took me through Central Park to the entrance to The Boathouse restaurant with tables on the veranda that looked out on the water at people paddling rowboats away from the shore. Most of them didn’t really know what they were doing so there were accidental bumps against other boats as the rowers struggled to move in the right direction down the lake.

  Nobody got hurt. One little boy about four yelled to his mother as she rowed away from the dock, “This is the most fun I’ve ever had in my whole life.” There was a lot of laughter, but I was glad I would be sitting on a non-moving chair watching them instead of competing against them

  Mike was already there when my cab pulled up. He scooped me out of my seat, paid the driver and held me tight until we were seated at a table next to the railing overlooking the pond.

  “Don’t you have any babies to deliver or new mothers to advise or something medical you’re supposed to be doing?” I asked when we were sitting across from each other.

  “Nobody is even due today,” he said. “Why haven’t you called me, Mary Louise?”

  “Oh Mike, you know why,” I said.

  “I know why, but I don’t accept it,” he said. “You know I love you. I’ll always love you. And if you won’t leave George, I still want to see you because you love me too even if you won’t admit it now. You told me you loved me in Spain.”

  “Mike,” I said, “try to understand. George and I have been married for thirty years. I can’t throw those years away just like that. And it would hurt my children if I left him.”

  “They’re grown. Or almost grown,” he said. “They would learn to accept it.”

  “Don’t ask me to leave him, Mike,” I said. “Please don’t. I know it’s unfair of me to keep seeing you like this when I’m not going to leave George, but I can’t help it. I love being with you, talking to you. You make me laugh. You make me feel good about myself. George has forgotten how to do that. Couldn’t we just be friends?”

  “Of course we can be friends,” he said, holding my hand in his. “For now, I’ll settle for a lunch whenever you’re in New York.”

  I smiled.

  “What’s funny?” he asked.

  “Well, the truth is, I’m going to be in New York every day until January,” I said. “We’re dancing with the Rockettes in their Christmas show.”

  “Every day?” he said, obviously delighted. “You’re kidding!”

  “What if some woman decides to have her baby in the middle of the day?” I asked.

  “She’ll just have to wait,” he said. I knew he was kidding. He was the most caring, conscientious doctor I had ever met. He truly cherished the women who came to him to deliver their babies. They worshipped him.

  “I don’t even know if they’re going to give us time to eat a real lunch,” I said. “We’re going to be rehearsing and exercising and Rocketting for hours every day.”

  “Just the fact that you’re in the city every day,” he said, “means that we can have some time together, babies and rehearsal times permitting.”

  The waiter hovered. “Want a drink?” Mike asked me.

  “Maybe a glass of white wine,” I said.

  “Let’s make it a Kir Royale,” he said, remembering my favorite drink, Champagn
e with crème de cassis, from when we met in Spain.

  I hesitated. Oh why not? “Sure,” I said. “I don’t have to dance or drive today.”

  “How was Rio?” he asked when the waiter went off to get our drinks. “I haven’t really had a chance to hear about it since you got back.”

  “Except for a murder or three it was beautiful,” I said. “Have you ever been there? I forget.”

  “Jenny and I went there on our honeymoon,” he said. “We stayed at the Copacabana. Gorgeous hotel.”

  “That’s where we were,” I said. “And it’s still gorgeous.”

  The waiter brought our drinks and asked if we had decided on lunch.

  “What’s good here, Mike?” I asked.

  “Everything,” he said. “Why don’t you get an omelet or their quiche, which is excellent, or a salad. They have a great lobster salad here too.”

  “I love lobster,” I said. “That’s what I’ll have.”

  Mike raised his glass. “Here’s to lunch with you every day of my life when I’m not delivering a baby,” he said.

  I clinked my glass against his and took a sip. It was lovely. I looked out at the rowboats gliding along the lake. I changed my mind. I wanted to join them. “Oh Mike, do you think we could go for a rowboat ride when we finish lunch? I did that with my children when they were little, but I haven’t done it since they grew up.”

  “Sure,” he said. “You can row.”

  I laughed. “You think you’re kidding,” I said. “I’m actually a good rower.”

  “Is there anything you’re not good at?” he asked.

  “Just about everything else,” I said.

  Our lunches came and I took a bite of the lobster salad, which was perfect. Fat pieces of lobster, not the stringy insides you sometimes get in other restaurants, tangy bits of scallion, chopped up hardboiled eggs, a little tabasco to give it zing.

  “I’m making this when the kids are home for Christmas vacation,” I said. “Do you think you could persuade them to give me the recipe?”

  Mike motioned to the waiter.

  “Carlo, do you think you could get this recipe for madame here?” he said. “She’s determined to steal it from you.”

  “Of course, Señor Mike,” the waiter said. “I’ll be right back.”

  As he left to get the recipe, my phone vibrated. I usually don’t answer my phone when I’m with another person. I think it’s rude. But something made me answer this call.

  It was Tina. “Mary Louise?” she said. “You won’t believe this, but Glenna—you know, the Rockette who was in charge this morning?—she’s dead.”

  I almost dropped my phone in the lake. “What do you mean she’s dead?” I said. “What happened to her?”

  “They found her under the stage, mangled in the machinery.”

  “My God,” I said. “How did that happen?”

  “Nobody knows. The police are there now, and we have to return to the theater. The detective wants to talk to us.”

  “How soon?”

  “As soon as you can get back here. Where are you?”

  “At The Boathouse,” I said.

  “With Mike?” she asked. Tina knows everything.

  “As a matter of fact—“ I started to say.

  “Never mind,” she said. “Just get back here as soon as you can.”

  “What’s the matter?” Mike asked when I put my phone back in my purse.

  “You won’t believe this,” I said. “But one of the Rockettes—the one we met this morning—is dead.”

  Our mood of festivity was gone. “Come on, I’ll take you back to the theater. We’ll take that rowboat ride another time.”

  He took a sip of the Kir Royale, left money on the table, got the recipe from the waiter, and led me out to the street where there were cabs waiting.

  RECIPE FOR LOBSTER SALAD

  Serves 2

  1 lb. cooked lobster meat

  3 radishes, chopped

  3 T. chopped scallions

  3 T. chopped celery

  3 T. mayonnaise

  2½ tsp. lemon juice (fresh—don’t use the

  bottled stuff)

  tsp. Tabasco sauce

  2 hard-boiled eggs

  2 hot dog rolls

  Romaine lettuce leaves

  1. Mix the first seven ingredients in a bowl, and add salt and pepper to taste.

  2. Chop up the eggs and fold them carefully into the salad.

  3. Fill the hot dog rolls with the lobster salad and place them on the lettuce leaves. You know, tastefully, as if for a ladies’ lunch. Then forget the ladies part and gobble up the lobster salad.

  Mary Louise’s cooking tip: Lots of people say they don’t like anchovies, so don’t tell them you put them in this dish. They’ll never know the difference.

  Chapter 2

  Home, Sour Home

  Several police cars were parked in front of the theater.

  “I’m coming in with you,” Mike said as we got out of the cab.

  I didn’t argue with him. I wanted him there. I needed his strength and keen mind to help me stay calm.

  The policeman at the entrance checked off my name on his list and let Mike in at my request.

  The detective was a very tall black man, handsome, wearing glasses, gray-haired. He motioned to us to come up on the stage, which was crowded with what looked like all eighty Rockettes and my four friends.

  “Mrs. Temple?” he said when I climbed the steps onto the stage.

  “Yes,” I said, “And this is my friend, Dr. Parnell.”

  “Are you here to examine the body, Doctor?” the detective asked. “It’s no longer here in the theater.”

  “No, no, detective,” Mike said. “I’m an obstetrician, a friend of Mrs. Temple’s. I was with her when she heard the news.”

  “Where is the body?” Gini asked.

  “The EMTs took her to Bellevue.”

  “Was she still alive?” Gini asked.

  “No, but the medical examiner is making out his report there.”

  “They told us she was mangled in the machinery under the stage,” Gini said. “How did that happen? What was she doing under there? How could she have fallen like that?”

  “We’re here to find out the answers to all those questions,” the detective said.

  Mike said to me in a low voice, “I’m going back to the hospital. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I nodded, and he walked back up the aisle and out of the theater.

  The detective turned to face everyone on the stage and motioned to all of us to quiet down so he could speak to us. But before he could say anything, the sweetest cat with a white furry body, a beigey-blond face, and a long striped tail, rubbed up against his leg and mewed. I think she was what is called a creamsicle tabby. The detective looked down and smiled. He leaned over and picked up the little cat and said, “And who do we have here?”

  “That’s Ranger,” one of the other Rockettes said. She was brown-skinned, stunningly beautiful, and wore long silver earrings I wanted to steal right out of her ears. “She’s our mascot. Somebody left her here in the theater one time, and we adopted her.”

  The detective patted Ranger, rubbed his face against hers and handed her back to the woman with the earrings. He straightened up, put on his policeman’s face and addressed us.

  “I’m Detective Carver,” he said. “I’m here to investigate this case. I would like to talk to each of you.” He looked around at the huge crowd in front of him. “Which might take a while,” he continued. “Anything you can tell me about Glenna Parsons will be very helpful. Please be available when we call you.”

  Marlowe, the Rockette who commented on the Santa outfits when we were on the stage earlier in the day with Glenna, spoke up. “Detective, will this take very long? We’re supposed to start rehearsal in a few minutes in a church near here.”

  I remembered that Glenna had told us they rehearsed in a church with a large stage instead of in the theater.

/>   “You may leave,” Carver said. “Just tell one of my men where the church is and how long you’ll be there. We’ll question you after the rehearsal.”

  As Marlowe and the other Rockettes headed toward the exit, Tina stopped her. “Do you want us to rehearse with you in the church now?” she asked.

  “No,” she said. “Just be here tomorrow morning at ten. A couple of the other Rockettes and I will show you what to do and practice with you.”

  She didn’t seem all that eager to help us. Downright unfriendly, as a matter of fact.

  Carver picked up Ranger again and addressed the five of us.

  “I know you just met Ms. Parsons this morning,” he said. “But do any of you have any information that might be helpful in our investigation?”

  “I don’t know if it means anything,” Gini said, “but . . .”

  “You’d be surprised at how much the smallest bit of information can matter,” he said. “Please continue, Ms. Miller.”

  “Well,” Gini continued, “as we left Glenna, she said something about having to check on the stage because it wasn’t being lowered at the proper time.”

  The detective made a note on his iPad. “Interesting,” he said. “Very interesting. Anything else you can remember that she said?”

  “I think that’s it,” Gini said. “Oh, wait. She said she had gotten a call that there was something wrong with the timing device, and she was going to check on it.”

  “Did she say who the call was from?”

  “I don’t think so,” Gini said and looked around at the rest of us questioningly.

  “It was a very brief conversation, Detective,” Tina said. “She hurried off, and we left the theater.”

  “Well, it gives me more to go on than I had before,” the detective said. “Thank you, ladies.” He patted Ranger and put her down next to her dish of food.

  “Okay if we leave now, Detective?” Tina asked.

  “Yes, of course,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”

  We walked out to the foyer and took a sip of water from the art deco fountain.

  “It’s four o’clock,” Tina said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to go home. I’ll see if Peter can get away early if you want to leave too.”