A Motive For Murder (37 page)

“That’s a lie,” Perkins said quickly, his eyes
blazing. “I have far more important things in my life. Bobby Morgan
was a loser. He was a bloodsucker. He couldn’t earn a living on his
own. He had to earn it off his own kid’s back. At least I was good
at something when I grew up. I could make money. All he could do
was spend it.”

“But you lost your job,” Auntie Lil pointed out. Her
hand slipped inside the purse, but she was having trouble finding
the screwdriver among the cluttered contents. Her fingers touched a
pocket calculator, a small nylon wallet, and a roll of mints.
Where was the screwdriver?

“I left my job willingly,” Andrew Perkins corrected
her. “The big money was gone. The eighties were over.”

“You were fired,” Auntie Lil said flatly. Her fingers
brushed against hard metal and she closed her hand on the
screwdriver handle. “I have sources. My nephew told me you were
fired.”

“Your nephew is a liar,” Perkins said angrily. “The
world is full of liars. Liars like Bobby Morgan.” Suddenly he
laughed, his head thrown back in delight. Auntie Lil took the
opportunity to pull the screwdriver from her purse. She held it
behind her back, out of sight.

“He always had to be center stage,” Perkins said, his
shoulders shaking as if he had just heard a hilarious joke. “He was
center stage all right. Did you see him? I’d have given anything to
have been in the audience to see it instead of backstage.” He
laughed again. “He made a hell of a grand exit.”

Auntie Lil stepped back toward the far end of her
row. Four minutes to go before the hour. She would never be able to
stall him long enough. He blocked one end of the row, but if she
took him by surprise, she might be able to run toward the door on
the far side of the room and get through it before he could
react.

No, it was impossible. She was too old.

But if she was running fast enough and he was
preoccupied enough, she might reach it in time to frighten him away
with her weapon and get into the hall. He would have to be
following her for it to work. She had to try it. She had no other
choice.

“You find it funny that Bobby Morgan’s dead body was
displayed like that for an entire theater of children to see?”
Auntie Lil asked, her mouth a grim line of disapproval.

“I find it hilarious,” Perkins admitted, nodding his
head happily. “Bobby Morgan, L.A. swinger. Swinging for the very
last time.”

“I would say you didn’t kill him soon enough, then,”
Auntie Lil pointed out. “You should have stopped Bobby Morgan from
being a swinger before he met your daughter.” She took another step
back toward the far end of the room, closer to the back passageway
that led to the first row of lockers.

Perkins’s face flushed. “That isn’t true,” he said.
“I stopped him before he could do anything.”

“Really?” Auntie Lil asked, forcing herself to smirk,
though she hated the words coming out of her mouth. “Do you really
believe that? Nikki Morgan told me that your daughter had been
staying out all night. Who do you think she was staying with? What
do you think she was doing? Do you really believe Bobby Morgan
would leave her alone? She’s a beautiful young woman. And your
daughter. He was doing it to get back at you, you know. He was
using your daughter just to show you he could.”

“Bobby Morgan was a joke,” Perkins yelled. “Julie was
too smart not to see it. She would never have had anything to do
with him.” He darted toward Auntie Lil, but stopped abruptly. She
would have to taunt him further until he gave chase. If he stayed
at his end of the row, he’d be able to simply turn back toward the
door and cut her off. She had to bait him further.

“Don’t kid yourself,” she said quietly. “Bobby Morgan
loved young girls. He probably came back to New York City just to
get his hands on Julie. Let me guess. You met him at the Los
Angeles charity ball for the first time in years. You mentioned you
had a daughter now, one dancing with the Metro. You were eager to
let him know that he wasn’t the only one who had a star for a
child. But he had to one-up you again, didn’t he? He had to go on
and on about how much money he was making off his son’s career. And
then he had to take it one step further. Because he never could let
well enough alone. He came here to start an affair with Lisette
Martinez, but once here, he met Julie and Lisette was history.
Julie may even have been the one to initiate their affair. He was
famous and successful. Everything she wanted in a man.” Auntie Lil
did not really believe this, but she had to goad him.

“Shut up,” Perkins said, taking another step forward.
“Julie wouldn’t have looked at him twice. He’s the one who pursued
her. I heard the phone ringing every evening while he begged her to
see him. I could hear her tone of voice. I saw the flowers, read
the unsigned notes. He did it all. He drew her into it. If I had
known it was him, I would have killed him earlier. I thought it was
Mikey instead. I thought it was cute.” His voice faltered. “I would
have killed him the first night if I’d known.”

“If you’d known that he was going to take your little
girl away from you forever, you mean?” Auntie Lil said. “If you’d
known about him before he did all those things to Julie that you
can’t seem to forget? If you’d known enough to plan the murder
better, to hide it from your daughter? Because now she will never
forgive you for what you’ve done.”

This time her taunts were enough.

“My daughter is glad he’s dead and she will never
tell anyone that I did it,” Perkins shouted. “And once you’re dead,
no one else will ever know it was me.” He darted toward her
angrily, his arms outstretched. She turned on her heels, dropped
her heavy purse in his way, and ran around the far end of her row
of lockers, dashing back toward the front of the room. Perkins
followed, his long legs quickly making up the space between them.
She could hear his footsteps against the tile floor, the sharp tap
of his businessman’s shoes as he drew closer. Her body was too old
to sustain the chase, and she was tired and beat-up from the day
before. She faltered, her will slipping, then forced herself to
move faster. She pushed her body to the limit, reaching the doorway
just as she heard several doors slam on the floor below. Three
o’clock, she thought, it was three o’clock. Classes were letting
out now. Help was near.

“Help me!” she screamed, but the sounds of lingering
music floating up from the first-floor space masked her cry. The
accompanists were still winding down and Jerry Vanderbilt was
thumping away at his usual deafening level of sound. Could anyone
hear her cries? She whirled around and jabbed at Perkins with the
screwdriver, hoping to slow him down. It caught him on the wrist,
sinking into the flesh no more than a quarter of an inch. It was
enough to draw blood. He cursed and grabbed at his wrist,
screaming. Auntie Lil turned toward the first-floor stairs, but he
stepped forward and blocked her way, his wrist clamped to his mouth
as he sucked on his wound.

“You must be kidding,” he said almost calmly,
droplets of blood trickling from his lips. “By the time anyone gets
up here, you’ll be dead. And I will be long gone.”

He began to move toward her again. She had no choice
but to flee toward the far end of the hall and the stairs to the
third-floor storage spaces. She threw the screwdriver at him, but
it bounced harmlessly off his chest and clattered to the floor,
rolling in front of him down the passageway. In his haste, he
stepped on the handle and the round barrel turned beneath one foot,
sending him off balance. He scrambled to regain his footing. Auntie
Lil took the time to dash down the hall and run up the stairs to
the third floor. Surely someone would be there, a technical person
perhaps. Someone who could intimidate Perkins into giving up.

The third floor was empty. “Help me!” Auntie Lil
screamed as she moved down the hall, trying each doorway she
passed. She could hear Perkins’s footsteps clattering up the
stairs. He was angrier and moving faster now. “Someone help me!”
she shouted, her voice echoing across the empty space.

“What’s going on?” she heard a deep voice yell from
the far end of the hallway near the abandoned storage room. She
fled toward the sound as if it were a beacon of light in the
darkness.

“Help me,” she shouted again as she ran. Perkins was
running rapidly down the hall toward her, his bloody wrist
forgotten as he sprinted to make up his lost time. She reached the
end of the long hallway and turned the corner. No one was there.
Where was the voice coming from? She tried the empty storage room.
Perhaps she could lock herself inside. The door would not budge.
Perkins rounded the corner and started toward her. She backed up,
hands reaching out behind her. There was no place to go but through
the smaller door at the end of the shorter hall and onto the
catwalk. Flinging open the door, she ran out onto the swinging
metal ramp, slamming the door behind her, yet knowing it would not
stop him for long. The catwalk was heavy steel, but it swayed as
she ran down the center of its length, searching for escape. Did
the metal ladder she had climbed the night before reach up this
high or was she trapped? The walls were bare except for thick stage
ropes. She would never be able to climb down them without
falling.

“Help me!” she screamed over the edge of the catwalk
just as the door opened. Perkins spotted her and smiled.

Where was the man that belonged to the voice she
had heard in the hall,
she thought frantically. He had to be
here somewhere. “Help me!” she screamed again.

Ricky Lee Harris poked his head out from a storage
area built into the sidewall of the stage one story below. He
peered up at the catwalk but was standing directly beneath it and
could not get a clear view. “What’s going on up there?” he
shouted.

Perkins stopped at the other end of the walk when he
heard the lighting director’s voice. He froze, peering over the
side to his right, wondering if he could be seen.

Auntie Lil had almost reached the far end of the
catwalk. She ignored the swaying movement beneath her feet that
her frantic scrambling produced. “It was Andrew Perkins!” she
screamed. “He’s the one who killed Bobby Morgan. He’s got me
trapped up here on the catwalk. He’s trying to kill me!” If she was
going to die, she decided, she was going to make sure everyone knew
who had killed her.

“Now, Miss Hubbert,” Perkins said loudly in a
soothing voice, “You’re overexcited. Don’t be silly. You shouldn’t
be out here. It’s dangerous. You might slip and fall. Let me help
you off.” He leaned over the edge of the catwalk and smiled down at
a puzzled Ricky Lee Harris. “It’s okay, Rick. She’s just a little
excited. I found her going through my daughter’s locker, and when I
got angry, she flipped out on me. I can handle it.”

“Don’t believe him!” Auntie Lil screamed angrily,
alarmed when Perkins took several more steps toward her. She began
to rock the catwalk, holding on to the metal sides as she shifted
her weight from left to right. As it swung more wildly she caught
glimpses of Ricky Lee’s quizzical face staring up at the catwalk,
his eyes unfocused and bleary. He was going to believe Perkins, she
realized with despair. He was probably so drunk he didn’t even know
if what he was hearing was real. She would have to get help from
someone else.

“Help me!” she screamed over the edge of the catwalk
in the loudest voice she had ever summoned from her considerable
lungs. “Help me! Help me! Please help me!” She took off her shoes
and threw them to the stage below. There were people moving about
on the stage. Someone had to notice. “Help me!” she screamed over
and over.

Her cries had no effect on Perkins. He advanced on
her faster, holding on to the metal railings, stumbling slightly
from side to side as the catwalk rocked beneath her vigorous
movements. It was harder for him to keep his balance because he
was moving; if she kept rocking it, she might slow him down. She
could hear voices beneath her. Someone shouted up at them.

“Help!” she screamed back, not hearing what had been
said, unable to focus on anything but keeping Perkins off
balance.

Perkins was only a few yards away when she threw
herself against the sides of the catwalk, desperate to slow him
down. He stumbled and lost his footing, teetered against the metal
railings, cursed, and then regained his foothold.

“What the hell?” Ricky Lee Harris shouted a story
below. “What are you doing on that ladder? Get off. It’s
dangerous.”

Who was he talking to? “Help me!” Auntie Lil screamed
again. “He’s trying to kill me! For God sakes, help me!”

“Get off of there!” Ricky Lee bellowed again. Why was
he shouting at her? She began to panic. Not only wouldn’t he help
her, he was shouting at her and making it harder to think.

But Ricky Lee Harris wasn’t shouting at Auntie Lil.
He was yelling across the stage at the lithe figure of the young
dancer climbing steadily up the metal ladder embedded into the back
brick wall of the stage. Rudy Vladimir had heard Auntie Lil’s cries
from below and believed her. He climbed rapidly, his strong young
body surmounting the rungs with the ease of a practiced sailor. He
passed the second-story level and shouted at Harris, “Get help!
She’s telling the truth.”

But Auntie Lil was trapped on top of the catwalk
without a view of below. She had no way of knowing Rudy was on his
way to her. She rocked the catwalk furiously, feeling tears coming,
angry at herself for not holding on to her calm. She would not die
in this manner, tumbling to the stage below, disposed of by a man
who thought only of himself.

“Stay away from me!” she screamed as Perkins moved
even closer. Just a few feet of swaying catwalk now separated
them.