A Motive For Murder Part 18

"You make such a big deal out of everything," Auntie Lil complained.

"One of us is going to call his mother," T.S. insisted. "Either you or me. Your choice. And, by the way, I saw her meeting Andrew Perkins earlier tonight." He described what he had seen.

"I'll go visit her myself," Auntie Lil decided. "Right now. She'll have to let me in if I have news of her son. I'll ask her why she was with Perkins."

"You will not," T.S. said flatly. "It may be dangerous."

"Theodore, her other children will be right there in the apartment with me," Auntie Lil said. "What can she do?"

"Force you to baby-sit?" he suggested.

"I'm hungry!" Mikey shouted at them from the living room.

T.S.'s expression was eloquent. Auntie Lil ignored it anyway. "You stay here with him," she said. "Just let him stay here for twenty-four hours. That's all I ask. I'll phone you when I'm through talking to his mother."

T.S. was silent, wrestling with his conscience. Finally he spoke. "The only reason I am agreeing to this," he told Auntie Lil slowly, "is because I don't think Nikki Morgan had anything to do with her ex-husband's death. I had dinner with Lilah tonight and she told me something that makes me think Hans Glick may be involved. I wasn't supposed to say anything until she was sure, but maybe you should know about it now before you go rus.h.i.+ng off to accuse Nikki Morgan of anything."

"What did she find out?" Auntie Lil whispered furiously.

T.S. put a finger to his lips and glanced back toward the living room, then led Auntie Lil down the hallway toward his bedroom. He closed the door carefully, then leaned against it and told her what he knew. Lilah was very active in fundraising for a number of charities. When she received the report on the Metropolitan's charity ball held in Los Angeles last spring, she had grown suspicious about some of the expenses listed and the small percentage of profit the Metro had cleared. For the past week she'd had her own accountants looking into the matter, examining the books from the event and double-checking listed expenses with the purported vendors.

"It's all a lie," T.S. told Auntie Lil. "Glick listed last-minute first-cla.s.s airline tickets for Raoul and Lisette Martinez, when they really flew coach and booked weeks in advance. That's a discrepancy of thousands of dollars when you're talking about an East to West Coast flight. Plus, he overbilled the flowers by three thousand, the food by nearly twenty, padded the list of waiters to justify paying out more salaries, and made payments to two decorating firms, including one that doesn't even exist. He's stealing money from the Metro!"

"Raoul and Lisette Martinez attended the L.A. benefit?" Auntie Lil asked. "Is that what you're saying?"

T.S. was exasperated. "That's not my point. Of course they attended. He's the artistic director. She's the star. Did you hear what I said about Glick?"

"She lied to me," Auntie Lil said. "Remember when we asked her about Bobby Morgan while she was taking a break on the steps? She said she just met him this season. She had to have met him at the L.A. party. Ruth Beretsky said he was there and flirting with all the women. She would have been the first one he was attracted to. Like you said, she's the star."

T.S. was annoyed. "So Glick doesn't even count?"

"Of course he counts, Theodore," Auntie Lil said fondly, patting his arm in a patronizing gesture. "I thought something was making him behave strangely. But all of his actions have been consistent. Consistent with an embezzler who has something to hide, but consistent nonetheless. Lisette Martinez is another story. So friendly. So helpful. So big a liar..." Her voice trailed off as she considered various ways to deal with this new bit of information. "I know," she decided. "Tomorrow morning, you call Margo McGregor. Ask her to pull any photos her paper may have taken at the charity ball. I know they covered it. Get the outtakes and everything. Wire photos, too. I want to be sure before I confront Lisette."

"What are we looking for?" T.S. asked.

"Photos of Lisette and Bobby Morgan together," Auntie Lil explained. "If she lied to me, maybe she's the woman Ruth saw with Morgan. Maybe she's the reason why he suddenly pulled his son from Hollywood and flew back to New York to dance in a minor production of The Nutcracker. It's never made sense to me that he would do that."

"And maybe she's the reason he was killed," T.S. added.

Scrambling sounds in the hallway alerted them that someone was near. T.S. opened the door to find Brenda and Eddie tumbling around Mikey Morgan's feet.

"I was just looking for the bathroom," the boy explained. "Are we gonna order in food or not?"

Auntie Lil's gaze was steady. "Theodore will order you something now."

It was just after midnight and Riverside Drive was deserted. The huge trees lining the park cast eerie shadows underneath the infrequent streetlights. Had Mikey really seen a man lurking beneath his windows or was his already overactive imagination simply reacting to his father's death? Auntie Lil hopped from the taxi and examined the street beneath the Morgans' apartment. It was brightly illuminated. It would be hard to mistake a tree for a man. But it would be easy for a man to hide on the edge of the light, blending in with the sudden darkness.

Auntie Lil pressed the bell firmly and Nikki Morgan immediately answered, as if she had been waiting by the door.

"Who is it?" she asked, the fear in her voice apparent even through the intercom's static.

"Lillian Hubbert. Mikey is perfectly safe. I want to talk to you about it."

Nikki buzzed Auntie Lil upstairs without comment and met her at the elevator door wearing a bathrobe. She had been home for some time, Auntie Lil was sure.

"Where is Mikey?" Nikki asked at once. "Is he okay? I was just about to call the police. I don't want any more publicity and Mikey left me a note saying not to tell anyone he left, but the note doesn't make any sense." She clutched the top of her bathrobe anxiously around the base of her throat. "I should have called the police hours ago, but you never know with Mikey. I thought maybe he'd just gone to the movies or Rollerblading at some rink with friends or some other normal activity like he's always saying he doesn't get to do."

"He's very safe," Auntie Lil said, interrupting her slightly tipsy speech before she could begin more apologies. "But I promised Mikey I would tell no one where he is."

"I'm his mother," Nikki protested. "How dare you make such a promise?"

"I'm sorry," Auntie Lil apologized, following Nikki into the Morgans' apartment. Her voice lowered. "He seems to feel he's in danger and said he would run away if I told anyone where he was, even you."

"What kind of danger?" Nikki led Auntie Lil past a row of closed bedroom doors and into the living room. It was as chaotic as ever. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of schoolbooks on the rug to make room for Auntie Lil to sit on the sofa. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper to hand to Auntie Lil. "This makes no sense," she said. "Read this."

Auntie Lil examined the note. "See you later," it read in a childish scrawl. "I'm lying low for a few days. Don't call the police. -Mikey."

"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 circ.u.mstances."

"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 cla.s.ses 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 cla.s.ses and sometimes Andrew tries to talk to her, but she just walks away. But at least we know she's okay. I a.s.sume 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 a.s.sume 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. G.o.d 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 what 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 a.s.surance 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."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

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-p.o.r.n cable channel consisting chiefly of phone-s.e.x 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. a.s.sured 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 ill.u.s.trate 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.