Set the Stage for Murder (25 page)

The Cortez family sat around the table in their kitchen, with half-empty coffee cups in front of them. Everything had been confessed and there were no more secrets. They all wept for a past that could never be retrieved and the uncertain future that loomed before them.

Chapter 24

The following morning, at Phoebe’s small gathering before the funeral service, Clea Green sat down next to Marc on the sofa and pointed with her head toward the terrace, where Vincent and Ethan were discussing Phoebe’s garden. “So that’s the illustrious Mr. Spiritos, is it? Well, well, well.” She appraised him from top to bottom, stopping at certain points along the way and nodding approvingly. “That, Marc Denby, is a fine specimen of manhood. Single?”

“
Yes, but his heart belongs to me, I’m afraid.”

Clea cackled, causing Gerald, Phoebe’s butler, to stop what he was doing and look at her and Marc. She raised her hand. “Sorry.” She turned back to Marc. “There you go getting me into trouble again. You know, I don’t get into nearly as many fights, these days, now that you’ve packed up and moved to the country.”

Marc gave her a sidelong glance. “Like I was the troublemaker? Clea Lucille, if I still lived in the city full-time, you’d have gotten both of us thrown in jail by now.”

She threw her head back and laughed again. “I know. I always just hoped that T. M.’s pockets were deep enough to get us out!” She looked back at Vincent. “Do you think I could persuade Mr. Spiritos to do me a little favor?”

Marc raised an eyebrow. “Parking tickets or an assault and battery charge?”

She slapped his thigh. “Neither one, smart mouth. It just so happens that I need a little detecting help.”

“
Oh?” Marc asked.

“
Ummm hmmmm,” Clea nodded. “I’d just love to get hold of Meg Pierce’s autopsy report. Now,
believe me
when I tell you that I could do it all on my own …”

“
Oh, I’ve no doubt about that,” Marc interrupted.

“
However,” Clea continued, “I’m bettin’ that Mr. Spiritos here can speed things along.”

“
But why do you want to see the autopsy report?” Marc asked. “I mean it’s pretty clear how she died, Clea.”

Clea smiled at him coyly. “Denby, don’t you ever watch those TV shows where the autopsy tells ’em stuff they never could’ve figured out otherwise? Besides, it gives me an excuse to sidle up to that fine-lookin’ man.” She turned to Marc and cocked her head sideways. “What do you think of my plan, Denby?”

Marc sighed. “I think this alliance sounds like trouble with a capital “T.” That’s what I think.”

***

Meg Pierce’s funeral was the media circus one would expect, considering the nature of her death and her close connections to the rich and famous. Primarily, the press was there to get photos and footage of Rosamund Whiting, Sir Anthony Dupree, and the other celebrities who had gathered to pay their respects. Without a doubt, this was the most illustrious crowd that had ever gathered at St. Agnes’s.

Vicki, Teddy, Phoebe, and the group, who had chosen to walk the three blocks from Phoebe’s apartment, arrived at the church steps at the same time as the Cortez family. After greetings had been exchanged, Ed and Sally flanked their son and entered the chapel as cameras flashed furiously.

Vicki glanced at her husband. “They’re looking very unified,” she whispered.

Teddy nodded. “Yes, they are. It’s certainly a departure from this weekend, isn’t it?
All of them took a seat in the third pew from the front, which Roz had set aside for them. Tony and Caroline sat on the pew in front of theirs, alongside Meg’s only remaining relatives, a distant cousin and her husband. Presumably, the first pew was for Roz and Juliet.

The crowd whispered quietly as organ music played softly in the background. Sunlight entered the stained glass windows and shone down on the very spot where Meg’s casket rested, bathing the area in a multicolored glow that looked very much as if it had been created by a theatrical lighting designer.

And then there were the roses. Everywhere you looked, there were roses. Pale peach,
Fair Rosamund
roses, to be precise. They covered the coffin, filled the choir loft, and lined the aisles. Had the chapel not been air-conditioned, their scent would have been overwhelming. However, they did make a statement, and there was no denying what it was;
this woman you’ve come to mourn was Rosamund Whiting’s best friend, and no expense has been spared.
Of course it was a wonderful gesture, Vicki thought. She just couldn’t help but wonder where Meg’s favorite daisies were.

Vicki glanced around the chapel and spotted several friends and acquaintances. The Broadway community had turned out in full force and quite a few movie stars were scattered throughout the church, as well. The mayor sat across the aisle on the front pew, next to Helena Swinson, Broadway’s reigning first lady of musicals. Vicki glanced at her program and saw that Helena was to sing this morning. There was no doubt about it; Roz was giving her friend a first-rate send-off.

The organist began a new hymn as the priest took his place behind the pulpit. A hush fell over the crowd as Rosamund and Juliet made their way up the aisle to their seats. Rosamund looked beautiful in a sleeveless black dress that fit her shapely form perfectly. Her blonde hair was knotted up into a chignon. She wore a simple black lace scarf over her head that she had wrapped loosely around her neck and allowed to drape down her back. The effect was simple and stunning. Vicki was positively certain that Roz never stood in front of her closet and wondered what to wear.

In contrast, Juliet looked waifish and overwhelmed in a scooped neck, black jersey dress with enormous bell sleeves that hid her hands. Vicki could imagine Roz shaking her head upon seeing the dress this morning, but choosing not to say anything. Once they took their seats, the service began.

Because of Meg’s devout faith, her priest had suggested, and Roz had agreed to, the celebration of a full funeral mass. The elderly and conservative Father Marsh was less than thrilled with Roz’s choice of music, but the star had refused to budge on the issue. Helena Swinson would sing twice during the service. The first time she would perform a song entitled “The Winter Moon,” a lovely ballad Meg had introduced in a not-so-lovely nor very successful musical several years earlier. Then Helena would close the service with an a cappella version of Irving Berlin’s “Always.” Roz might have given up “The Winter Moon” if the priest had made too much of a fuss, but “Always” was the song Meg had sung to Juliet since she was a baby, and its inclusion was non-negotiable.

It was during Helena’s rendition of the Berlin classic that even the most stoic of those present in the church found it difficult not to shed a tear. In a moment that perhaps even Roz didn’t know was coming, Juliet stood up, approached the rose-laden casket and removed one of the bouquets, placing it on the floor. Then she put in its place a posy of daisies, which she seemingly had conjured from mid-air. Evidently, the bunch of flowers, Meg’s favorite, had been hidden within one of the full sleeves of her dress. And with that simple, heartfelt gesture performed to the strains of a simple, heartfelt song, Juliet had returned the focus of the day to the woman who had died. In doing so, she had eclipsed Rosamund Whiting, 750 peach roses, and a church full of celebrities. It was a moment that those present would not soon forget.

***

Roz and Juliet had invited close friends back to the apartment for a small gathering after the funeral. Although Tony and Caroline were in attendance, Ed, Sally, and Connor were not. Vicki assumed, and rightly so, that the Cortez family had not been invited to the reception. Those who did attend were offered a variety of excellent hors d’oeuvres and free-flowing liquor. In fact, the catering was so well done that even Marc was impressed.

Everyone who had come back to the apartment realized that it had been a hard day for Roz and Juliet, so no one stayed too long. Two and a half hours after the affair had begun, the two women stood at the front door and said goodbye to the last of their guests; only their closest friends remained. Juliet immediately went and changed clothes so that she could leave with her father and stepmother; she had decided to spend several days with them. Juliet understood that Lenore’s Folly was the safest place for her mother right now, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back so soon. The memories were too fresh.

Roz kissed Juliet goodbye and promised to call when she arrived upstate. Once the three of them had left, Roz lit a cigarette, asked one of the waiters for a scotch on the rocks, and joined Vicki, Teddy, Marc, and Ethan on the terrace. Phoebe, Vincent, and Clea had already left, so just the five old acquaintances were left in the apartment. Roz sat down on the sofa next to Vicki, slipped out of her black Prada pumps, and tucked her feet up under her. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been this tired before.” She took a long drag from her cigarette. “I’m warning you, Vicki. I may sleep for the next three days.”

“Which is perfectly fine,” Vicki said. “I’m sure you need it.”

Teddy nodded his agreement. “I know it may be inconvenient for you to be away from Manhattan, Roz, but you can rest at the house and, more important, we can protect you. I’ve had Sam beef up his staff, so you can relax while you’re there.

“The two of you have been so incredibly sweet to me through all of this nightmare.” Roz smiled at them thankfully. “You won’t hear me complaining about one single thing.”

Vicki stood up, picked up her purse and addressed Roz, Ethan, and Marc. “So I’ll go back to the apartment, change clothes, and pick up Clementine.” She pulled Teddy up off the sofa. “I should be back to pick up the three of you in about an hour.”

“We’ll be here,” Marc said, as he finished off his sixth or seventh little mushroom tart. “And, we’ll be bringing these leftovers with us.”

“It’s starting to look like there may not be any leftovers,” Ethan observed.

“Well, it’s paid for, Marc, so eat all you want,” Roz said, rising. “Now, if all of you don’t mind, I’m going to lie down for just a few minutes.” She went to Teddy and put her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. “I know you’re not coming with us today, and I’m sure I’ll see you this weekend, but, Teddy, my dear Teddy, I’m so indebted to you for all that you are doing for me.” Her voice started to quiver. “I don’t deserve friends like you.” She kissed him on the cheek, gave Vicki a quick hug and then quickly walked back into the apartment.

Teddy turned to his wife and the two men with an apologetic look on his face. “I’m still a little uneasy about not going up with you guys this afternoon. It’s not fair for me to make the three of you look after Roz; after all, it was my idea to have her stay at Lenore’s Folly until this whole mess gets sorted out.”

Vicki put her finger over his lips. “Hush. The cancellation of the production is messy and complicated; you and Clea have a lot of work to get done. Besides, you’ll be at the house by the weekend. I’m sure Marc, Ethan, and I can hold down the fort until then.” She kissed him and then started shoving him toward the door. “There is absolutely nothing that the three of us can’t handle. Right, guys?”

“
You heard the lady,” Marc said.

“
Okay,” Teddy agreed, his reluctance fading. “And Sam and his guys will be around, keeping all of you safe.” He smiled as he turned back and gave his wife another kiss. “You’re right. I’m sure there’s nothing for me to worry about.” He gave a quick wave to Marc and Ethan, and a last adoring look to Vicki before he turned and left.”

“
Mr. McDowell certainly likes to worry, doesn’t he?” Vicki said, laughing.

“
He’s the lord of the manor; comes with the territory, I suppose” Marc quipped.

Ethan sat back down on the outdoor chaise and loosened his tie. “It also might have something to do with how much he loves his wife.”

“
Yes, I suppose that could be it,” she smiled, blushing slightly.

As Teddy rode the elevator down to the lobby of Roz’s building, he couldn’t know how much time was to pass before he would really forgive himself for not making the trip to Lenore’s Folly that Tuesday afternoon.

Chapter 25

Since no one was especially hungry, Marc prepared a light salad of sliced pears, candied walnuts, and crumbled blue cheese served atop a bed of field greens, freshly gathered from Ethan’s vegetable garden. The four old friends sat at the kitchen table long after finishing their meal, reminiscing about old times and polishing off two bottles of a crisp sauvignon blanc. More than once during the evening, Roz’s attention would stray, and it was evident to Vicki, Marc, and Ethan that she was thinking of Meg.

By 9:00pm all of them were beat and just a little drunk. When Vicki suggested that it might be time to call it a day, she met with no resistance. She, Roz, and Clementine left the boys to clean up and headed upstairs to their rooms. As they reached the door to Roz’s guestroom, she turned and gave Vicki another quick hug, tearing up as she thanked her, once again, for being such a good friend.

The combination of the stress from the day’s events and the half-bottle of wine she had consumed at dinner guaranteed that Vicki was asleep almost before her head touched the pillow. However, it was not to be a restful slumber. Once again, she found herself dreaming of walking through the woods with Clementine. Only this time, it wasn’t just one person or thing that kept eluding them. Out of the corners of her eyes, she kept seeing movement among the trees on both sides of the path, but when she would turn to see what had caused the disturbance, nothing was there. As opposed to the previous dream, where Clementine kept darting into the woods in pursuit of something, this time she growled constantly but remained with Vicki on the path, which was much more overgrown and treacherous in her dream than it was in reality. Finally, Clementine stopped walking, sat down on the path and gazed into the woods. “What is it, girl?” Vicki asked. “What do you see?” Vicki squatted down to the dog’s level and followed her stare, looking into the shadowy forest. In the distance, she saw something white that appeared to be floating in mid-air, but she couldn’t quite make out what it was. She had to get closer. As she started to step off the path and enter the tangle of branches and foliage, Clementine barked sharply and grabbed hold of Vicki’s pant leg with her teeth, preventing her from leaving the path. “It’s okay, girl. I just have to see what that is.” But Clementine wouldn’t release her leg. Instead, she started trying to pull Vicki back to the path, her low growl turning into something that sounded almost human, almost like a baby’s cry. “Clem, come on! I’ve got to find out what that is. Come on, Clem!”