Murder in the Pearl District (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) (10 page)

A few minutes after Dirk had left,
while Kelly was giving Rebel a fresh bowl of water, she began to think about
whether or not it had been a good decision to bring Rebel to the restaurant.
I
know having a dog in the restaurant could be an issue, particularly for that
food critic if he ever found out, but I can’t believe anyone would have a
problem with Rebel being in the office. If push comes to shove, I can always
defend having him here by saying he never was near the food preparation area,
but hopefully it won’t come to that.

She picked up her cell
phone and called Mike. “Hi, sweetheart. What’s up?”

“How about if you tell me
first? Did the new additions to the menu go over well?”

“Mike, it was the most
unbelievable thing.” She told him about the customers lined up at the door, the
diner’s responses to the dishes, how Nico had been made chef, and was even
being considered for a television show.

“Sounds like you’ve had a
busy day.”

“I have. There’s so much
to do here, and I know I don’t have much time. However, I’m not sure I’m any
closer to solving the murder today than I was when I talked to you last night.”

“Well, I have a little
something for you on that issue. I spent some time this morning researching a
couple of the names you gave me last night. Nico Bassi studied at the Cordon
Bleu in Portland and attained an associate degree in their culinary arts
program. He’s the real deal as far as credentials go.”

“Well, he’s got more
credentials than Chef DuBois or Bill Hossam.”

“What are you talking
about?”

“I’ll tell you when you
finish.”

“Okay, back to where I was
with Nico. I also checked out his personal background. His parents were
divorced when he was very young. Evidently his father left his mother, and Nico
never saw him again. His mother worked two jobs to support them, and his
grandmother practically raised him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.
He told us some of his recipes had come from his grandmother and how proud
she’d be of him.”

Mike continued, “He has no
history of arrests or any other problems with the law. He’s clean. That doesn’t
mean he didn’t commit murder for the reasons we’ve already discussed, but
there’s nothing that makes him stand out as a suspect.”

“Thanks so much, Mike. I
like him, and I’d hate to think he did it. I know he would have had a strong
motive – to be the chef at Mangia! Mangia!, the head person in the kitchen, not
the sous chef, the second in command. And I can’t forget he’ll probably be
widely acclaimed for his new dishes that are on the menu, something that never
would have happened as long as Donatella owned the restaurant. Find out
anything else?”

“Yes. Elena Wright seems
to have some major psychological issues. She spent a lot of time in a private
mental institution out of state. Her father is a very wealthy lumber baron and
didn’t want anyone to know about it, so he paid for her to be admitted to a
very expensive private facility in Washington, near Seattle.”

“Were you able to find out
why she was admitted to the facility?”

“Yeah, it took a little
doing, but it looks like she suffers from a mental condition everyone’s heard
of, delusions of grandeur. I was able to talk to the doctor who treated her at
the facility, and he told me that when she entered the facility she believed
she was the most famous hostess in the United States.”

“What kind of therapy do
you use for something like that?” Kelly asked, sitting back in her chair and
doodling on a notepad.

“He told me it usually is
part of a larger psychological issue, such as the person being bipolar or even
having substance abuse issues. There didn’t seem to be a history of substance
abuse, but he did put her on the same medication he uses to treat bipolar
patients. He said she didn’t have a lot of the symptoms of someone who
classically suffers from the disease, but her mother had been bipolar and there
are different degrees of it.  He seemed to think the medicine helped her.”

“Given that kind of
medical background, I suppose she very well might have felt terribly threatened
by the scallop incident. In other words, as the French would say, her ‘raison
d’être,’ which means the thing that was most important to her, was ruined
because of Donatella, or at least that’s how she possibly saw it. I suppose in
her mind that could have been reason enough for her to want to kill Donatella.
I’ve even heard rumors that Donatella wanted to discredit Elena because of her
reputation as the foremost dinner hostess in the district. Donatella wanted to
be the top food person in all respects. I also heard a rumor that she took a
gamble that someone from the Midwest who had never had scallops might have a
food allergy to them, and that’s why she served scallops. Seems a bit
far-fetched, Machiavellian if you will, but who knows? Things aren’t always
what they look like on the surface.” Kelly said.

“No, they’re not.”

“Did you find out when she
was in the private mental facility?”

“I asked the doctor that
very question, and he said it was five years ago. I suppose it’s possible she
could have stopped taking her medication or that her mental situation has taken
a turn for the worse. There’s no way to tell without a battery of tests being
done on her.”

“If it turns out she’s the
one who did it, I imagine the court would insist on a full mental fitness
evaluation. I don’t know if you found out anything about Tina Ramos, but let me
tell you about a visit I had from her this afternoon.”

“Yes, I researched Tina,
but I’d like to hear what you have to say first.”

Kelly told him about the
surprise visit she’d received from Tina and the one hundred eighty degree turn
she’d made between yesterday and today. “Honest, Mike, it was like I was
talking to a completely different woman.”

“Well, it may seem like
that, but she still had a very good motive for killing Donatella. From what my
research showed, she has a long history of alcohol abuse. She’s had three DUI’s
and even spent some time in an alcohol rehab center as part of her court
sentence. As a matter of fact, the entire family has a long history of it. She
inherited quite a sum of money from her parents when they died in an auto
accident after they’d been drinking heavily at a bar in Portland and ran off
the road on their way home. Her brother died a few years ago of cirrhosis of
the liver, so even though she says she’s never going to have another drink, I’m
not so sure she’s to be believed. Sounds more to me like a classic morning
after thing to say.”

“Wow! To come from a
family like that and then have your husband leave you for another woman. That’s
kind of sad.”

“Don’t go getting all soft
on me. It’s not a good characteristic to have when you’re investigating a
murder case. Believe me, I speak from experience. Just keep in mind that she
very well may be the person who did it.”

“I suppose you’re right.
Mike, you won’t believe the meeting I just had with a private investigator who
told me all about Bill Hossam and Chef DuBois.” She told him everything Dirk
had told her and the strange difference between his education and how he chose
to earn a living.

“First of all, I’m not
surprised that he acts and talks like that. He’s absolutely right, if people
think you’re on their level or below it, they’ll tell you a lot more than if
you come off as highly educated. It’s probably a pretty good strategy in his
line or work. As for the chef and Hossam. They both jump to the top of my list
of possible suspects. They both had an awful lot to lose if Donatella ever blew
the whistle on them.”

“I wonder if she
threatened the chef. Remember, Carlotta said she’d overheard Donatella
threatening Hossam. Maybe she was going to go to the Gazette and blow the
whistle on him. That would certainly give him a reason to murder her. I agree
with you. I’d put him pretty high up on the list of suspects.’

“I’ve got to go. I’m
running late for a meeting. I’ll call you later. Don’t forget we have a deal.
You, the gun, and Rebel. Deal?”

“Deal, Sheriff. Love you.”

“Bye, babe. Be safe.”

Kelly had just ended her
call to Mike when the office phone rang. “This is Kelly.”

“It’s
Carlotta. I don’t know what to do. We don’t open until 5:30 for dinner, and not
only is every table reserved tonight, there must be twenty people standing in
line outside the restaurant. I can’t believe it. It makes the lunch line look
like nothing. I can’t figure out how everyone heard about the new dishes. One
of the people said they saw something on television, and someone else said they
read about the restaurant in an article that was in the Gazette. We must be all
over the media, but I’ve been too busy to look at the television or turn on the
radio. Plus, I just got a call from that restaurant critic, Bill Hossam, and he
made a reservation for four people for tonight. I don’t know how I’ll do it,
but I was pretty sure you’d want me to work him in.”

“Absolutely.
Thanks, Carlotta. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll come out and help you.
Let’s do it this way. We’ll give the people with reservations first priority,
and if we have any open seats we’ll plug in the others as best we can. Since
they don’t have reservations, I really don’t think there’s anything else we can
do, and they’ll just have to understand. It’s also kind of a reverse psychology
kind of thing. The more you can’t have something, the more you want it. Try and
get as many people as you can into the bar area. I know that’s where the
restaurant makes the most profit. See if you can call in another bartender for
tonight. If this continues, we’re definitely going to have to hire more people.
I’ll go alert the kitchen.”

She gave Rebel
his evening meal which he ate with his usual vigor. “Between what’s happening
at the restaurant and trying to solve Donatella’s murder, I’ll really be glad
to get back to sleepy Cedar Bay. How about you, big guy?”

He wagged his
tail and looked up at her. She could swear he was sending her a message that he
wasn’t a big city dog, and he couldn’t wait to get back to Mike and Lady.
“Okay, you stay here and guard the receipts, while I do battle in the
restaurant. See you in a couple of hours.”

She walked
into the kitchen where Nico and Sophie were huddled in the corner going over
the food that needed to be ordered within the hour for delivery the next
morning. “Whatever you’re ordering, I’d suggest you double it.” Kelly said.

“What are you
talking about?” Sophie asked in her soft French accented voice.    

She told them
about the call she’d just received from Carlotta. “It looks like tonight’s
going to be busier than we were at noon, and tomorrow’s going to probably be
even busier. I know we can only serve a certain number of dishes, but what
worries me is that they’re going to start placing orders to take out, and we
should be ready to fill those as well. Nico, if you need to call in some more
kitchen help, feel free to do it. I’m going to work with Carlotta in the front
of the restaurant. Call me if you need me.”

Kelly walked
into the dining area of the restaurant just as Carlotta unlocked the doors at
5:30. By 5:40 there wasn’t an open seat at any of the tables and it was
standing room only, and not that much of it, in the bar.

“I called
several waitresses and waiters to help us out tonight,” Carlotta said.” We
should be fine for tonight, but we definitely need to hire more people. A
number of people waiting in line have decided to place orders to go instead of
waiting for a table, if one even opens up, so I have one of the wait staff
assigned to take care of the to go orders.”

“Good
thinking. That’s been a concern of mine.”

“Kelly, I know
you’re new in town, but everyone who is anyone in the Pearl District either has
made a reservation for tonight or is presently standing in line. I can’t
believe what I’m seeing.”

Kelly looked
at her watch and realized an hour and a half had already gone by. She’d made
two trips to the office to put the receipts from the bar and the reception desk
in the floor safe. Each time she admonished Rebel to be on guard. She looked
outside when she returned to the reception desk the second time and saw that
even more people were standing in line.

This must
be every restaurant owner’s dream, but in some ways it’s becoming a nightmare.
I’m ready for this night to be over.  

Much later,
after the night had finally ended, she’d look back and remember that innocent
thought.

Kelly stood behind the
reception desk while Carlotta showed the diners to their tables and gave them
the old and new menus. While she was looking at the seating chart and wondering
if any more diners could be accommodated, she heard a voice say, “Good evening,
Mrs. Reynolds.” She looked up and was face to face with the restaurant critic
from the Portland Gazette, Bill Hossam.

“Hello, Mr.
Hossam. It’s good to see you, but I must say I’m surprised. I thought you
weren’t going to come back for a week.”

“I’ve been
getting calls all afternoon about the changes here in the menu at Mangia!
Mangia!, and I thought I better see what all the buzz is about before it dies
down. You know you can’t possibly expect to maintain this,” he said haughtily
as he gestured at the full restaurant.

“Good evening,
Mr. Hossam,” Carlotta said, “Do you wish to be seated now, or do you want to
wait for the rest of your party?”

“Seat me now.
The other members of my group texted me they’re running a little late.”

Kelly noticed
he didn’t bother to thank Carlotta or show her any other courtesy.
Obviously
he feels he’s superior to her. One of the things I hate more than anything else
in the world – people who think they’re better than everyone else and don’t
even need to acknowledge those they consider to be lesser than them. Yeah, Mr.
Hossam, but I know the truth about you, Mr. Big Shot. I’m tempted to blackmail
you myself, but I suppose that wouldn’t go over very well with a certain
sheriff I happen to be married to. I’ll just have to keep my mouth shut and
grin and bear it
.

A few minutes
later she said, “Carlotta, I’m going over to Mr. Hossam’s table for a few
minutes. I need to talk to him.”

“Sure. I can
handle it. The line outside is down to a trickle, but we sure did a huge
take-out business. I wonder how close the kitchen is to running out of
ingredients for the new dishes.”

“I have no
idea. The only time I left the front desk area of the restaurant was to take
receipts back to the office. I have no way of knowing what the previous best
night’s receipts were for the restaurant and bar, but whatever they were, I bet
we’ve already broken that record tonight. We still have a couple of hours to
go, and from the looks of the bar crowd, some of them might be around until
closing time, meaning even more profits.”

“Kelly, I
don’t know about you, but I’m bone tired. My face hurts from smiling, and if I
had a penny for every time I’ve explained what is in the new dishes on the
menu, I’d be a rich woman. And I know darned well the diners probably asked the
wait staff the same thing! Go and enjoy Mr. Big Shot Food Critic. Too bad
Donatella didn’t serve him some of her infamous scallops.”

“I wish I
could say I didn’t agree with you, Carlotta, but I do. He really is a pompous
arrogant so-and-so. If it wasn’t for Sophie and the restaurant, I could easily
do without ever having anything to do with that man. I’ll be back in a few
minutes.”

She walked
over to his table and sat down across from him. When he was finished reading
the messages on his cell phone, he looked up at her. “What can I do for you?”
he asked.

“I’m curious
how someone gets to be a food critic. We don’t have any where I come from, just
people who like good food. How did you wind up in this kind of a job?”

“Well, I
started out in New York at the Cordon Bleu. After I graduated from there, I
decided I’d rather help people find good places to eat than cook for them. The
profession has been very good to me. I have one of the best reputations of any
food critic in the entire United States. I’ve been told I should think about
going to Italy or France, but I never perfected those languages. The only
things I know about either one of those countries are the dishes that come from
there. A lot of people say that my talent is wasted in a city as small as
Portland, but I must admit I like the Northwest.”

“Well, you
certainly have a following. What about San Francisco or Los Angeles?”

“I don’t like
people from California. They’re so into whatever the newest fad is. Once you’ve
spent time at the Cordon Bleu and been with really great chefs, you realize
there’s far more to cooking than theatrics. Every restaurant I’ve ever been to
in California seemed to rely more on some chef’s ability to do what they call
‘molecular gastronomy,’ which is just a fancy word for using all kinds of things
like making gas bubbles taste like chocolate rather than preparing food in the
classical manner. You know, the kind of food like I had to prepare when I was a
student at the Cordon Bleu. And don’t even get me started on those chefs who
are so hot on the ‘sous vide’ method of cooking. That’s just vacuum packed food
cooked in a warm bath at a low temperature. In my mind, those two methods of
cooking are examples of theatrics at its worst.”

“I have to
admit I’ve not tasted anything cooked in either one of those methods, but I
sure have been seeing a lot about them in the food magazines and on the
television food shows.”

“Oh those
people don’t know anything. That’s why my column is so important and popular.
People want to know what someone trained at the Cordon Bleu thinks of a
restaurant rather than have some gorgeous hunk or beauty queen who doesn’t know
a turnip from a piece of tuna tell them what the latest is in molecular
gastronomy or sous vide cooking.”

“I see your
point. If I may change the subject, are you originally from New York? I don’t
detect a New York accent.”

“Yes. I lived
and worked at restaurants in New York until I came out here. Several people
urged me to come to Oregon because it was obvious to them that the Northwest
needed a food critic of my caliber. My parents were originally from the
Midwest, so that’s probably why I don’t have an accent.”

“I see
Carlotta escorting some people to your table. Your guests must have arrived. I
hope you enjoy the new additions to our menu. The other diners speak very
highly of them.”

“For your
sake, I hope I do too.”

That
certainly sounded like a veiled threat if I ever heard one.
What an officious
horrible liar. I wouldn’t put it past him to be the one who murdered Donatella.
Anyone who thinks that highly of himself would no doubt do whatever was
necessary to make sure no one ever found out the truth about them. Should have
told him that just like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, he wasn’t in Kansas
anymore or maybe better yet, tell him to click his heels three times and say
there’s no place like home and I think I’ll mosey on down the road back to
Garden City. Too bad Donatella didn’t have a bad scallop day at the restaurant
or at least arrange for one particular diner to be the recipient of one of them!