“Good God.” Renie rubbed at one eye. “You’re hopeless.”
She tossed her cigarette butt into the fireplace and regarded
Judith with an indulgent expression. “Okay, I’ll play the game
if only because we can’t amuse ourselves by watching
a year ago last December, when I got called in on the annual
report. He seemed very nice, quite efficient, and otherwise
utterly unremarkable. I also talked to him on the phone.”
“Who did he work for?” Judith asked, adding more ice to
her glass.
“He was assigned to Margo in p.r. then, as a staff assistant.
But I think he’d been in human resources before that.”
“Andrea Piccoloni-Roth?” Judith was finally beginning to
put titles and departments with faces and names.
“That’s right. But I honestly don’t know much more about
him,” Renie admitted. “It appears that he didn’t intend to
make a career out of working at OTIOSE, or he wouldn’t
have started up the catering business on the side.”
Judith grew thoughtful. “How old was he?”
“Mid-twenties, blond, medium height, nice-looking. I didn’t
know until today that he was gay, but then I wouldn’t have
given it a thought if I had,” Renie said, slipping one
more pretzel out of the little paper sack. “Quite a few of the
guys who are employed at lower management levels in corporations are gay.”
“So Barry wasn’t in a power position?” Judith asked as the
wind rattled the windows.
Renie ruffled her short hair. “Well—that depends. The
salaries at that level aren’t much, but somehow staff assistants, at least at OTIOSE, have some kind of abstruse clout.
They answer the phones, they run personal errands for the
bosses, they handle correspondence, they know all the gossip.
They can be a great source of information, which means their
importance goes far beyond their lowly titles and puny
paychecks.”
“Interesting,” Judith murmured. “Maybe that’s what got
Barry killed.”
Renie shuddered. “I hope not. I kind of like Nadia’s hermit
theory.”
“It’s comforting,” Judith allowed, then turned a dour face
to Renie. “The only problem is, I don’t believe it.”
FIVE
A FEW MINUTES before eight, the cousins went downstairs
to get some food. They had snooped around on the second
floor until they found a staircase that led from the west end
of the main corridor to a small hallway off the laundry room
and the rear entrance. A quick peek into the dining room
told them that the conferees had finished eating. Judging
from the hum of conversation, they had regrouped in the
lobby.
