Part 4 (1/2)
”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 flickered 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 G.o.d, 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 surpa.s.s it.”
”Paulette is right. Fatima is better than any of our young dancers and already better than most of the princ.i.p.als.” 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 latest slur. She remembered that fidelity had been long rumored to be a problem in the Martinez marriage. She had always a.s.sumed it was Raoul who was the cause. Now she was not so sure.
”I'd talk to Emili Vladimir if I were you,” Paulette offered suddenly.
”Who in the world is that?” Auntie Lil asked.
”Rudy Vladimir's mother,” Jerry explained. ”The young boy who got bounced from his role so Mikey Morgan could take over.”
”I know Rudy,” Auntie Lil said. ”One can hardly fail to notice him at rehearsals. He stands out, wouldn't you say?”
”He is as nice as he is talented,” Paulette admitted in an uncharacteristic burst of generosity toward a fellow human being. ”Obedient, very hardworking, very respectful of my authority and abilities.”
”Too bad you can't say the same about his mother,” Jerry said, smiling innocently.
Paulette glared at him.
”What?” Auntie Lil demanded.
”Jerry is under the misconception that I am jealous of Rudy's mother,” Paulette said coolly. ”That was all many years ago.”
”Hah!” Jerry demolished his fried flounder with unrestrained glee, spreading half an inch of tartar sauce on top of it first.
”How do you know her?” Auntie Lil asked, hoping to get at the truth somehow.
”She defected to the States in the late seventies when the Kirov Ballet was touring Canada,” Jerry explained helpfully, ignoring his companion's warning stare. ”Baryshnikov did the same thing. She didn't make such a big splash, of course. She wasn't that big of a star. But she did manage to displace a few well-known American dancers when Balanchine took her under his wing.”
”Because he was infatuated with her!” Paulette spit out. ”It was always the same story with him.”
In other words, Auntie Lil surmised, Paulette Puccinni's legendary tiff with Balanchine had probably been over his decision to replace her in some role with a relatively unknown Russian ballerina named Emili Vladimir.
”What happened to her?” Auntie Lil asked. ”Why haven't we heard more about her?”
Jerry shrugged. ”She was a purist about the Kirov's ballet techniques. Refused to adapt to ABT's quicker style. Opened her own school downtown. After she had the kid.”
”The kid?” Auntie Lil said.
”Rudy,” Paulette explained. ”She was pregnant when she defected.” She smiled in remembered satisfaction. ”Old George only got a few months' worth of dancing out of her. After the baby, she drifted into modern dance. One of those.”
”Her husband's death may have had something to do with it,” Jerry added. ”He was supposed to join them here in America. I don't know what happened.” He shrugged. ”He got killed by the KGB or disappeared into Siberia or something. He was a dancer, too. Some people say she never had the heart to dance a pas de deux after he died.”
”Romantic nonsense,” Paulette countered. ”Having a baby rained her body, that's all.”
Auntie Lil fervently hoped that Herbert was listening carefully. These two collected grudges the way other people collected stamps. ”But you didn't actually see anyone suspicious or anything odd the night Morgan was killed?” Auntie Lil asked. ”Nothing that could help us?”
”I wasn't even there,” Jerry said. ”I prefer playing at rehearsal rather than performances.” In other words, he had not been chosen as princ.i.p.al pianist for this run of The Nutcracker.
”I was too busy trying to supervise all those d.a.m.n children,” Paulette said with a sigh. ”I don't know what possessed Raoul this time around. I didn't have time to see anything. Besides, Morgan was on the opposite side of the stage from me. Not many dancers are on that side at that point in the performance. Most have just exited stage left. There are just a handful of technical crew stage right, actually, at the Act One break.”
”If you talk to the tech staff, be careful,” Jerry offered. He pantomimed taking a slug from an imaginary bottle. ”If you know what I mean.”
Auntie Lil stared first at him and then Paulette. ”No, I do not know what you mean,” she said firmly.
”They drink,” Paulette explained. ”Our tech crew is wetter than the Mississippi. Someone could have dissected Morgan under their noses and they wouldn't have noticed unless the killer called for a spotlight first. Too busy trying to hit their cues while under the influence.”
”They incriminated everyone but Mother Teresa,” Auntie Lil explained when she reached T.S. by phone an hour later. And that's only because she was in Calcutta the night Bobby Morgan was killed.”
”I am sorry I missed seeing you in tights,” T.S. told her. ”You said exercise cla.s.s, not ballet.”