High Kicks, Hot Chocolate, and Homicides

by Mary McHugh

  “Careful, Weezie,” he said. “I wouldn’t get involved in this if I were you.”

  “That’s what George said,” I told him. “I won’t take any chances, Peter. Don’t worry.”

  Tina leaned over the front seat to talk to me. “What if she tells you one of the Rockettes did it? If you find out who did it, they might try to kill you.”

  “If she tells me that, I’ll go straight to the police,” I said. “I’m not going to hang around to get killed.”

  “She probably won’t tell you who did it,” Pat said. “I got the impression the other day that she just wants to make sure we know she didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Do be careful, though, Weezie,” Gini said. “We’d hate to lose you. It’s hard to get a substitute Santa at the last minute.”

  I punched her lightly, causing her to spill a little of her coffee.

  “No really, Weez,” she said. “Don’t take any chances, okay?

  “I’ll be all right, you old worrywart,” I said and put a couple of sugars in my own coffee. “Now let’s talk about something else. Something good.”

  “Want to hear about where Tom and I are going to get married?” Janice asked.

  “Oh yes, Jan,” I said, so glad to have a change of subject. “Where? Tell us.”

  “Have you ever seen that old boat moored in Brooklyn—near that really good restaurant, The River Cafe? Near the carousel. You know.”

  “You mean Bargemusic,” Tina said. “It’s a wonderful boat. Is that where you’re getting married?”

  “Yes,” Janice said, her face reflecting her delight. “It’s perfect for our wedding. We went over to see it yesterday and talked to the owner, who is really nice.”

  “When are you doing this?” Pat asked.

  “Probably next spring some time,” Janice said. “We’re going to go on our honeymoon first.”

  That was so Janice.

  “Why?” Pat asked.

  “No special reason,” Janice said. “We just want to have time together, and we figured we don’t have to be married to do that.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked. I would never go on my honeymoon before the wedding, but I loved the fact that Janice would.

  “We thought we’d go to London and see as many plays as we can find. They’re doing Death of a Salesman there now and, believe it or not, Jersey Boys. They really love American plays. It costs less to see most of them there than here.”

  “Sounds great, Jan,” Gini said. “Mind if I come along?”

  Jan laughed. “I do mind. Much as I love you, Gini, I think I’ll just go on my honeymoon with Tom. You’ll be in India getting your little girl anyway, won’t you?”

  “I hope so,” Gini said, holding up her hand with her fingers crossed. “It looks that way. Alex and his friend at the Times have been working on it, and I think we’re going over there after our dance with the Rockettes is done.”

  “Knowing Alex,” Peter said, “he’ll never stop until you have your little girl.”

  “Oh thank you for that, Peter,” Gini said, kissing him on the ear. “I’m so afraid to hope.”

  We were all quiet, thinking our own private thoughts. I realized I dreaded this day coming up. I usually love our dancing jobs, but this one wasn’t fun. I wondered if I was the only one who felt like that. I didn’t want to sound like a spoiled brat. I hesitated. I hate saying negative things. It’s just the way I am. But I had to say something.

  “Could I ask . . .” I said, “I mean . . . you know how much I love to dance. But is anyone else having as tough a time as I am rehearsing that darn Santa Claus thing? I know they’re perfectionists, those Rockettes, and we’re lucky to be dancing with them, and all that, but I’m not having any fun at all. It’s hard work, and I’ll be glad when we’re finished. I’ve never felt that way before in any of our other jobs.”

  “I know what you mean, Weez,” Tina said. “It’s definitely harder than any other kind of dancing we’ve done, but we knew that going in—how perfect they were, I mean. You don’t want to quit, do you?”

  “I guess not,” I said. “If everybody else wants to keep on with this, I will too.”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t like it either,” Janice said. “But I love being able to tell people that we’re dancing with the Rockettes. Everyone’s always impressed. Me too.”

  “What about you, Gini?” I asked the most honest person I know.

  “It stinks,” she said. “I’m not having any fun either, Weezie, but it’s too late to back out now. We took the job and we’ve got to stay till the end. Besides I want to find out who killed Glenna—don’t you?”

  “I’d just as soon read about it in the papers after they catch the killer,” I said.

  “It’s only a couple of months, Mary Louise,” Pat said. “And I love coming into New York every day. There’s so much to do there. I get to see Denise, and now David, much more than I would otherwise because he has a week off from school.”

  “What are you and Denise and David going to do today?” I asked. I loved seeing Pat’s face light up whenever she talked about those two. They were obviously as precious to her as she was to them.

  “Well, I know this sounds hokey,” she said, “but David and I are leaving Denise behind and going on a Circle Line cruise around Manhattan. He’s never done it before and, believe it or not, neither have I. I always thought it was too touristy a thing to do, but now I’ll see it through David’s eyes, and it won’t be touristy at all.”

  “I wish I could go with you,” I said.

  “Come with us,” she said. “We’d love to have you.”

  I wasn’t sure, but I thought I might be having that conversation with Danielle today, so I said, “Maybe next time, Pat.”

  Tina said she was going to consult Andrea again about reception plans at the Frick. Then she grabbed my hand.

  “Really, Mary Louise,” she said, “Go right to the police if Danielle tells you anything crucial. Don’t go back to the theater.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, smiling at her.

  We arrived at the theater and Peter put his hand on my arm as I was getting out of the car. “You have my number on your cell, right?” he said.

  “Call me if you need me. Anytime. I mean it.”

  I kissed the top of his head. “Thanks, Peter,” I said. “I do have your number, but I’ll be all right.” I didn’t really think I was in any danger. I always try to think positively.

  * * *

  We went into the theater. By now the teenaged ticket taker barely gave us a glance. Marlowe, Nevaeh, Andrea, and Shelli were all on stage waiting for us.

  “How’s Danielle?” Marlowe asked.

  “Doing well,” I said, wary. I never quite trusted Marlowe.

  “She’s not here today,” Marlowe said. “How long are they going to keep her in the hospital?”

  “They’ll probably let her out today,” I said. “But she said she didn’t think she would dance anymore. She was afraid she might lose her baby.”

  “It would be nice if she shared that information with me,” Marlowe said. “I was counting on her to rehearse you hoofers. I’ll have to get someone else.”

  She pointed to the Santa Claus jackets.

  “Get into your costumes.” She stopped, looked at Shelli and then said to me, “Is it true that Danielle said something to you about Glenna’s death?”

  I was halfway into my Santa jacket, so I mumbled, “Oh, probably nothing important,” with my head under the fat suit.

  “I would think anything to do with Glenna’s unfortunate death would be very important,” Marlowe said when I pulled the suit on.

  “I don’t know how important it is,” I said. “I won’t be able to see her for a while, anyway, with our rehearsals and her being at home and all.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me anything she has to tell you,” Marlowe said.

  Oh sure! I thought. I’ll rush right back here the minute she t
ells me who killed Glenna.

  “Yes, of course,” I said. I realized Shelli must have overheard me telling my friends what Danielle said and told Marlowe. “She probably just wants to thank me for going to the emergency room with her. My friend is the head obstetrician at New York Hospital, and he probably got help for her faster than her own doctor could have.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Marlowe said. She turned her attention to the rest and made sure they all had their Santa jackets on. “Nevaeh will put you through your paces today,” she said. “How are you doing with the Santa suits?”

  “Terribly!” Gini said. “They’re the worst things I’ve ever danced in.”

  “Get used to them,” Marlowe said. “You’re going to spend a lot of time in them.”

  “Terrific,” Gini said.

  “There is one good thing about them,” Nevaeh said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “What’s that?” Gini said.

  “I lose ten pounds every season after dancing in those things,” she said. We believed her. She was slim as a bathing-suit model.

  “Better get started,” Marlowe said, and left the stage, followed by Shelli.

  My phone vibrated just before we started to dance. It was Danielle.

  “I’m back home, Mary Louise,” she said “Can you come for lunch today? I really need to talk to you.” Her tone was urgent.

  “Yes, of course I’ll come. How’s twelve-thirty? We should be through being tortured by then. Are you sure you feel up to this?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Phil has been taking good care of me. You and I will be alone at lunch. Do me a favor and don’t mention that you’re coming here.”

  “Tell me your address, Danielle.”

  She gave me an address on Fifteenth Street between Fifth and Sixth. I promised to be there as soon as the morning’s rehearsal was over.

  “What was that all about?” Gini asked.

  I pulled her away from Nevaeh. “I’m going to Danielle’s for lunch. She said she needed to talk to me.”

  “Good!” Gini said. “You’ll find out who killed Glenna.”

  “Nobody said Glenna was killed, Gini! She just said she wanted to talk to me. That’s all.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “Thanks, but she said not to tell anyone else I was coming.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Thanks, Gini,” I said. “I wish I could take you along. Everyone keeps telling me not to get involved.”

  “I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Gini said. “I’m the one who keeps pushing you to find out what she has to say. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to you.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Gini,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Of course I’ll worry,” she said. “That’s what I do best. But be careful, hon, okay?”

  “Count on it,” I said and picked up my phone to call Mike.

  I told him what had happened. “Can we do the labyrinth tomorrow?” I asked. “I really want to do that.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Call me when you get back and tell me what she said.”

  The Santa suits seemed a little more manageable on this day, and the rehearsal went fairly quickly. Some leg-raises, bicycle pumping, treadmilling and push-ups, and Nevaeh told us to come back at two.

  I left the theater and took a taxi to Fifteenth Street.

  When I got to Danielle’s building, the street outside was full of police cars. The door was blocked by a police officer who told me I couldn’t go in the building.

  “Why, what’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m supposed to have lunch with a friend of mine in this building.”

  “What’s her name?” he asked, pulling out his iPhone.

  “Danielle Jennings,” I said.

  He was instantly more alert, tense. “What is your relationship to Ms. Jennings?” he asked.

  “She’s a friend,” I said, beginning to realize something was very wrong. “Why? Did she have to go back to the hospital?”

  “When was she in the hospital?” he asked.

  This was all too weird. “She was in the hospital yesterday because she almost lost . . . Why are you asking me all these questions? What’s going on here?”

  “There has been an accident. Ms. Jennings fell or jumped or was pushed out of her window.”

  “My God,” I said, “is she still alive?”

  “I can’t give you any more information,” the officer said. “I need your name and the reason you were coming to see her.”

  “I’m Mary Louise Temple. I told you—I’m here to have lunch with her. I wanted to be sure she was all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be all right?”

  “Because of the baby. Because she almost lost . . .” I stopped. I had learned one thing from being married to a lawyer all these years: Don’t say any more than you have to when someone starts questioning you.

  “May I go, officer?” I asked. “I have to get back to rehearsal.”

  “You’re a Rockette too?” he asked. “Like Mrs. Jennings?”

  “No, no,” I said. “I’m just a dancer. But we’re dancing with the Rockettes in their Christmas show.”

  “I think you’d better stay here,” the officer said. “The detective may want to ask you some more questions.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll call my husband and ask him to meet me here. He’s a lawyer.”

  “Why do you need a lawyer?” he said.

  “It’s not that I need a lawyer,” I said, “but I’ll feel better if he’s here.”

  He led me to a place near the entrance to Danielle’s building and told me to make my call and to stay there. When I was through, he would take me upstairs to her apartment where the detective was in charge. He was nice enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was under arrest for something. I knew I couldn’t just walk away.

  I called George and told him what had happened.

  “I told you this would happen, Mary Louise,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you not to get mixed up in all this?”

  “Yes, you did, George,” I said. “But I need you to get over here now to make sure I don’t say anything I shouldn’t.”

  “Luckily, I’m in New York today,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

  I hung up and clicked on Tina’s number.

  “Hey, Weez,” she said, “How’s your lunch with Danielle? Did you find out anything?”

  “Oh Tina,” I said, and then couldn’t talk.

  “What is it, Mary Louise? What’s the matter?”

  “It’s Danielle,” I said and choked on the words. “She either fell or was pushed out the window of her apartment. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

  “What!” Tina cried. “What happened?”

  I told her what the officer had told me. “That’s all I know. I just hope they don’t arrest me because I was coming here to see her.”

  “Are they keeping you there?” she asked. “Want me to call Peter?”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said. “George is in New York today, and I’m waiting for him to come and get me out of here.”

  “Thank goodness,” she said. “I’m glad George is going to be with you. Call me back as soon as you can.”

  When I hung up, the police officer took my arm again. “Detective Carver wants to talk to you,” he said. “Come with me to Ms. Jennings’ apartment.”

  “How will my husband know where to find me?” I asked.

  “I’ll be here when he comes. I’ll bring him to you.”

  The lobby of her building was large and bare, with a desk in the middle where a man checked visitors in. He was talking to another policeman, and we walked by him to the bank of elevators in the back.

  We went up to the twelfth floor, where two policemen were stationed outside her apartment. They opened the door for us, and I walked into Danielle’s living room. Detective Carver was waiting for me.

  “Ms. Rogers,�
�� he said, “we meet again. I understand you were planning to have lunch with Ms. Jennings today. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

  “I don’t have any choice, do I, Detective?” I said.

  “Afraid not,” he said.

  “Could you please wait until my husband gets here?” I said. “He’s a lawyer, and I’d feel better if he were here with me.”

  “If you think you need a lawyer,” he said, “I’ll wait.”

  This was not going well. I sounded guilty, even to myself. But guilty of what?

  “As I told the policeman downstairs,” I said, “it’s not that I need a lawyer, I just want my husband here with me.”

  “I understand,” the Detective said and told me to have a seat.

  I sat down on the white couch across from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I was overwhelmed by the view. The apartment faced the Empire State building a few blocks to the northeast. There it was, one of the most famous buildings in the world that many visitors to New York came to see, rising regally above the other buildings in the city, showing off its spire against the sky.

  “What a great apartment,” I said to the detective.

  “Yes it is,” he said. “They must have paid a lot to get a view like that.”

  “I suppose so. Both of them earned good salaries, I guess.” I realized Phil was not there. “Where is her husband?”

  “He went with the medics who took her body to the hospital.”

  “Her body?” I said. “Then she’s dead.” It was the first time anyone actually confirmed it.

  “Yes, she was pushed out the window.”

  “Poor Phil,” I said. “He loved her so much. And she was going to have a . . .” I couldn’t finish.

  “He was really broken up,” Carver said. “I felt really sorry for him.”

  The door of the apartment opened. The policeman who had brought me up here reappeared with George, who hurried into the room.

  “Are you all right?” he asked me.

  “I am now,” I said. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  George turned to Detective Carver. “Why have you brought my wife up here?”

  “She came to have lunch with Ms. Jennings. I thought perhaps she could shed some light on her death. We’re not accusing her of anything, Mr. . . . ?”

  “Temple. George Temple. My wife barely knew Ms. Jennings. She helped her the other day at the hospital when she almost lost her baby. I guess Ms. Jennings wanted to thank her. That’s all.”