Given what appeared to be a romantic relationship
between Ava and Gene, Judith didn’t think that was much
of an alibi. “You can’t alibi Gene while you were in the restroom,” Judith said.
Ava’s face fell. “You’re right. I can’t.”
As far as Judith could see, nobody had an alibi.
Ava obviously agreed. “You were with your cousin?”
“Yes, in the kitchen.”
“See what I mean?” Ava said with an ironic smile.
She was right, Judith thought. The cousins didn’t have
much of an alibi, either.
No one seemed inclined to stay up late that night. Russell
and Ava were the first to announce that they were headed
for bed. Gene and Margo followed. Nadia badgered Frank
to get his rest; he’d had a very trying day, she said.
“Is she kidding?” Max snarled after the pair had gone upstairs in the elevator. “This is worse than ’Nam! At least over
there you knew who the enemy was. Well,” he added, staring
at the floor, “most of the time you did.”
“How’s your head?” Judith asked.
Max fingered his smooth pate. “Okay. Margo didn’t hit
me very hard. I suppose it was only fair after I whacked
Russell with that damned carving.”
Judith had decided that a frontal attack was best. “Were
you looking for Andrea’s personnel files this afternoon?”
Max’s chin jutted, then he slumped against the sofa. “Yes,
but I never even saw them. Everything had been
cleaned out except her notes and a daily planner.”
“Does the phrase ‘Scandinavian wheat-thrasher’ mean
anything to you?” Judith inquired.
At first, Max looked puzzled. Then he held his head. “It
means my ass,” he said, then peered at Judith between his
fingers. “How did you know?”
Renie edged forward on the footstool. “We found the
folder in the conference room yesterday. We put it here, on
the coffee table. Somebody must have picked it up.”
“It’s not mine,” Max said, his long arms dropping to his
sides. “It’s got to be somebody in my department, so I’ll take
the fall. That damned file’s been missing for over a year.”
Judith sat up very straight. “How do you know if it’s not
yours?”
“Because,” Max explained, cracking his knuckles, “I found
it back then when I was going through some year-end stuff
for the annual report. I’d guessed something like that was
going on, but I wasn’t sure who was responsible. In marketing, we entertain a lot of outsiders. Somebody wanted to go
beyond wining and dining to win new clients. I left the file
where I found it with a note to see me, ASAP. All these
months, nothing happened. Then, last night, Andrea started
making hints about ‘prostituting ourselves’ and ‘women who
took things lying down.’ She kept looking at me, and I realized she must know. There was no chance to talk to
