Naked Cruelty by Colleen McCullough

Robbie said, leaping on a black tile.
    â€œLight!” said Gordie, on a white tile.
    â€œDark!”
    â€œLight!”
    â€œDark!”
    â€œLight!”
    Which finished their dance; they had reached the living room doorway and encountered a geometrically crazed carpet in black and white. Laughing, they flopped into easy chairs, Gordie in a white one and Robbie in a black one, breathless and happy.
    â€œDo you think it’s time we told Aunt Amanda where we are?” Gordie asked.
    â€œPatience, twinnie-winnie, patience.”
    â€œOur clown and check will go to San Diego, and you know we’re renting the house to strangers. What if they pinch our present?”
    But Robbie’s mind still dwelled on their neighbor.
    â€œThere was a professor named Kurt
    Who wore a plutonium shirt;
    A mushroom-shaped cloud
    Did Kurt really proud
    When the garment proved far from inert.”
    â€œVery good, Robbie! I love your limericks.”
    â€œThe Dodo’s victims do have one thing in common,” Delia said the following Monday, the last day of the month.
    â€œExpound,” said Carmine.
    â€œNone of the seven has what I’d call a menial job, though there are several thousand Carew women working at menial jobs. Shirley is an archivist—extremely thin on the ground. Mercedes is a dress designer, but not a struggling would-be. She’s the chief designer of that famous boutique line, “Cobweb”. Leonie’s a brilliant mathematician, working at Chubb and surrounded by men who regard her as a freak. Esther was on a fast track at East Holloman State College teaching the more esoteric aspects of commerce—apparently her teaching abilities were outstanding. Marilyn is the one I’d call unlucky, in that she should have been in Alberta working the digs there—she came home unexpectedly. No, the Dodo didn’t send her any trick messages, the summons was genuine. Natalie buys women’s clothes from factories for Huxley’s department stores. She has an unerring instinct for what women are going to want to wear, so Huxley’s are feeling her absence severely. And Maggie, as we all know, is a bird physiologist at Chubb, no mean feat,” Delia said.
    â€œThat’s an impressive list, even for 1968,” said Helen, taking over from Delia. “It suggests to us that the Dodo is well aware what his victims do professionally. He’s an intellectual snob, and we’re guessing that file clerks, waitresses and cleaning ladies are safe. Also undergraduates. All his victims so far have been old enough to acquire at least one degree.”
    â€œHow does he find out their professions?” Carmine asked with a frown. “There’s a list of Gentleman Walkers and their occupations, but the most Sugarman does with women is to write them down on his list for a party. Helen, your job is to check how many of them are on Sugarman’s party lists. We can’t hope for that from Mason Novak, he’s too disorganized.”
    â€œHe must be organized at work,” Delia said.
    â€œYou’re right, he must be. However, the Walkers have no idea from seeing a girl out and about in Carew whether she’s a doctor or a file clerk. The Dodo must find out the hard way, by multiple break-ins. A woman’s living space will tell him for sure. But it adds to the danger of discovery.”
    â€œFile clerks don’t carry heavy briefcases,” said Nick.
    â€œNo, I believe the Dodo has access to records of some sort. What throws me off are the non-academics,” Delia said. “Two of them, a dress designer and a dress buyer. Both women’s wear, yet not really related. How does one find out about them?”
    â€œWalk up to them in a shop and ask, with a very charming smile?” Nick said, half joking.
    â€œHe’s a snob in all kinds of ways,” said Helen, tired of Nick. “He doesn’t use a foreign object during his