Free A Motive For Murder by Katy Munger Page B

sounded more like nasty
cackles. The pair took mutual delight in the misfortune of
others—and were none too kind with each other, either.
    “A lot of people at the Metro?” Auntie Lil
prompted.
    Paulette nodded. “He had a colossal ego and he used
his son to feed it. He’s made quite a few enemies in a few short
weeks.”
    Jerry nodded agreement. “But how’s this for a
dark-horse-killer candidate?” He relished the nervous expression
that flick–ered across Paulette’s face. “Surely you’ve noticed that
Madame Chairman had the unreciprocated hots for our murder victim?”
He raised an eyebrow for emphasis.
    Auntie Lil’s mouth dropped open at a most unfortunate
time, considering she was eating a chili dog. “Lane Rogers took a
romantic interest in Bobby Morgan?”
    “I don’t know how romantic it was,” Jerry admitted
with a sly giggle. “It was certainly interesting.”
    “I think when a woman reaches a certain age she
should put such things behind her,” Paulette added, wrapping her
caftan around her as if no man, by God, was going to gawk at her
body.
    Auntie Lil could not have disagreed more. She thought
people should go on falling foolishly in love for as long as their
breath held out. But she did not say anything except, “How could
you tell her affections were not returned?”
    “How could we tell?” Jerry asked. “Just look at her!
The only person who would look at Madame Chairman’s body with any
interest might be the defensive coach of the New York Giants!” He
and Paulette shared a laugh.
    “There must be more to it than that,” Auntie Lil
insisted. “How did you know she was interested in him?”
    “She followed him around,” Paulette offered. “Through
the halls, trapping him in corners, saying she needed to discuss
all sorts of trivial things. It was humiliating, really. I could
hardly bear to watch.”
    Auntie Lil knew full well that Paulette Puccinni
could hardly have borne not to watch, but she held her tongue. “And
you knew her affections were not returned because of...?”
    “The way he would run into the men’s room and hide
when he saw her coming was a dead giveaway in my opinion,” Jerry
explained, deadpan.
    It was hard to argue with that reasoning. “Why didn’t
Martinez bar Morgan from the rehearsal areas?” Auntie Lil asked,
switching tracks. “He seems to have caused quite a bit of chaos
wherever he went.”
    “Not enough guts,” Paulette explained. “None of us
want to be unemployed by next season and it seemed obvious to us
all that Bobby Morgan had an awful lot of influence with the board.
After all”—this time it was her turn to stare at Auntie Lil—“he
managed to have one of the finest dancers to come along in decades
removed from her role.”
    Auntie Lil was surprised at the honest indignation in
Paulette’s voice. It seemed the first true ring of emotion she had
heard from the woman. “You taught Fatima Jones?” she asked.
    Paulette nodded. “I inherited her from the New School
of Ballet. She came out of their public-school program. She already
had her own style, but her technique lacked polish. I taught her
everything I know. She’ll go further than I ever went.” She sighed
involuntarily.
    “You had quite a distinguished career,” Herbert
offered gallantly. “It is high praise indeed to predict the young
girl will surpass it.”
    “Paulette is right. Fatima is better than any of our
young dancers and already better than most of the principals.”
Jerry shot a glance toward Paulette and an unspoken message was
once again received. “Especially Lisette, Martinez’s own wife.”
    “Lisette is way past her prime,” Paulette agreed. “If
she had any pride, she’d hang up her shoes and go on to other
activities.”
    “And I bet she has a few in mind,” Jerry added with
his by-now-familiar knack of not actually revealing the entire
story yet managing to besmirch his subject with unspoken
accusations.
    Auntie Lil pondered this