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

Given the circumstances, Sophie and
Kelly’s first attempt at serving lunch and running Mangia! Mangia! was a huge
success. As Kelly had predicted, the customers wanted to know what was going to
happen. Kelly had instructed Carlotta, the bartenders, and the wait staff as to
how they should handle the questions, and fortunately for everyone, it went
very smoothly. The customers seemed genuinely relieved that the popular
restaurant was going to remain open.

Just as the crowd was
beginning to thin out, Carlotta motioned Kelly over to the reception desk.
“What is it Carlotta?”

“The man sitting at the
table by himself two tables back from the windows is the restaurant critic,
Bill Hossam. He’s the one I told you about. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Oh great. Why is he here?
Is he on a restaurant death watch? He probably wants to see if we can keep the
restaurant open. I’ll let Sophie know and see what she says. I don’t know if
it’s proper for me to introduce myself and welcome him or what.” She hurried
back to the kitchen.

“Sophie, we apparently
have our first challenge. I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but evidently the
restaurant critic from the Portland Gazette was getting ready to write a bad
review of Mangia! Mangia!, and Donatella confronted him about it by phone. He’s
here now. Carlotta just pointed him out to me. What do you want to do? Do you
want to go talk to him and welcome him? I really don’t know what’s customary
and usual in a situation like this.”

“I’m sorry to ask you to
do this, Kelly, but you’re so good with people, I’d really appreciate it if you
would take care of it. I think the sensible thing to do would be to welcome
him. I have a temper, and if he said anything about Dede, I might ruin any
chance we have of getting a good review. Actually, Nico and I were going over
some terrific ideas he has about changing the menu. I have to say I’m impressed
with his ideas, although Dede told me once that only restaurants that weren’t
successful changed their menus. She told me she was certain that’s why Mangia!
Mangia! was popular, because people felt comfortable coming to a restaurant
they knew would have the same food they liked the last time they were there.”

“All right. It’s your
restaurant, but this is not my favorite thing to do. Wish me luck.”

“Excuse me, Kelly,” Nico
said. “Bill Hossam has a reputation in the industry for being very nasty. You
should see some of the scathing reviews he’s written about other restaurants. I
always feel sorry for the owner whenever he publishes one. He dislikes more
restaurants than he likes. I just hope ours isn’t going to be one of them.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in
mind and not take anything he says personally. Okay,” she said, taking a deep
breath. “Here probably goes nothing.” She walked out of the kitchen and over to
his table.

“Hello. I understand
you’re Bill Hossam from the Portland Gazette. I’m Kelly Reynolds, a good friend
of the new owner. Welcome to Mangia! Mangia!”

Looking like a college
professor in his sport coat with leather patches at the elbow, a bow tie, and
horned rim glasses, the balding middle-aged man looked up from the antipasto
platter he had ordered. “New owner? That was fast. Who is it?”

“The new owner was a very
good friend of Donatella DeLuca, the former owner and the woman who was found
murdered this morning. Her name is Sophie Marchant.”

“Never heard of her. What
are her credentials for running a restaurant like this? Does she have any
formal training? What other restaurants has she owned?”

“I don’t believe she has
any formal training, but Mrs. DeLuca thought enough of her skills that she
provided in her Will that Mangia! Mangia! was to be bequeathed to her. That
certainly says a lot about her faith in Mrs. Marchant.”

“Not really. Donatella
never tried anything new, and this restaurant reflects it. Everything on this
menu was probably on a similar menu fifty years ago. I was getting ready to
write a review of it when I heard she’d died. I was curious to see if anything
would change. From what you’re telling me, I guess not. Might as well write my
review and get it over with. Between a new owner and my review, I predict a
very short life for this restaurant. Be good riddance. Donatella recently
threatened me and told me I’d be very sorry if I wrote a bad review. I don’t
like being threatened. Quite frankly, this place doesn’t deserve a good review.
I can make or break a restaurant with my reviews, and this one probably needs
to be broken,” he said arrogantly.

“I’m sorry you feel that
way. Actually, I think the new owner is going to be making some changes. Would
you do her a favor and hold off reviewing the restaurant for a few days or at
least until she has a chance to put some of the new dishes on the menu?”

“Why should I? New dishes
from someone who’s never owned a restaurant and doesn’t have any formal
training – it’ll probably be some Italian form of a tuna noodle potato chip
casserole.”

“I don’t think so.
Donatella had a very good sous chef who was anxious to put some of his
creations on the menu. I believe Mrs. Marchant is going to give him the
chance.”

“That piques my
curiosity.  Tell this mysterious Mrs. Marchant that I will give her one week.
I’ll be back then, and if the new dishes don’t live up to what you’re telling
me, I’ll publish the review I was planning to prior to the untimely death of
Mrs. DeLuca.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hossam. I
appreciate your courtesy, and I’m sure Mrs. Marchant will too.
Buon appetito
,”
she said as she walked away from his table, trying to look as if nothing had
happened.

Sophie took one look at
Kelly when she entered the kitchen and said, “
Chérie
, it was that bad?”

“That is the most
repulsive man I think I’ve ever met. He was hoping the restaurant would fail,
and then his review would be justified.”

“When is he going to
publish it?” Nico asked.

“I don’t know. I bought a
little time. His main complaint seems to be that the dishes served here are
like the dishes that were served in Italian restaurants fifty years ago. He
said there was nothing new or innovative on the menu.” She turned to Sophie. “I
didn’t know what else to say, so I told him the new owner and the sous chef
were making plans to introduce a fantastic new menu. I asked him if he would
hold off publishing his review until he’d had a chance to try the new menu. He
said he would come back in a week and try it. I’m sorry, Sophie, that was the
best I could do. I was afraid that with Donatella’s death and a bad review, it
would mean the end of the restaurant.”

“Nico, now we don’t have a
choice. How soon can you have those new dishes of yours ready to be served to
the diners?”

“I’ve tested all of them
several times. I’ll tell the staff they’ll be on the menu tomorrow and instruct
them as to what they should say when the diners ask about them. We’ll need to
get temporary paper menus printed up by tomorrow and if the dishes are well
received, get new regular menus printed. I’ll make a list of what I’ll need.”

“Give me the names of the
dishes and their descriptions. I’ll go down the street to Hank’s Print Shop.
I’ve had him print paper menus for me when I’ve entertained. He’s a very
interesting individual, but he’ll get it done and on time,” Sophie said.

“I’ll have them to you in
half an hour. We’ll have the wait staff give the diners a paper menu along with
the regular menus. This is going to work. Thanks for believing in me, Sophie,”
he said, grinning as he wrote out the new menu items as fast as he could.

“Nico. Make it legible.
Hank will have to be able to read your writing in order to typeset it.”

“Will do,” he muttered,
totally engrossed in creating his new menu.

“Kelly, let’s go to the
office,” Sophie said. “I want to talk to you while Nico writes out the items to
be included in the new menu.”

A few minutes later they
sat in the restaurant’s office, trying to absorb everything that had happened
in the last few hours. “Kelly, do you really think I can do this?” Sophie
asked.

“Absolutely. I think
you’re lucky to have Nico. If you can get a good restaurant review, that would
be fabulous. You don’t have a choice. I know Donatella didn’t want to change
the menu, but if you don’t, you could be looking at the restaurant closing
before you even have a chance to see what it can do.”

“I just hope I’m not, how
do you say it? Something about being in the water and drowning?”

“That’s not quite the way
the saying goes. I think you’re trying to say ‘in over your head,’ but I’m sure
you’ll rise to the occasion and not drown.  I think we could both use a cup of
coffee. Just sit for a minute, and I’ll go get us some.”

As she walked into the dining
room area she saw a red-haired woman sitting at the bar speaking angrily in a
loud voice and gesturing in a threatening manner at the tall bartender.

Kelly walked to the far end of the
bar and motioned to the bartender that she wanted to speak with him. He said
something to the woman seated at the bar and walked over to where Kelly was
standing.

“What’s going on?” she
asked.

“I just told that woman I
wouldn’t serve her another martini. She started yelling at me and told me I didn’t
know who she was. I know who she is, all right. Every bartender at Mangia!
Mangia! knows who she is. She generally comes in after the lunch crowd leaves
and has a couple of martinis. She gets real mouthy the more she drinks. Her
name is Tina Ramos. She’s the ex-wife of the man Mrs. DeLuca was seeing before
her death. She’s as mean as a rattlesnake, and she’s got a really bad temper.”

“Stay here. I’ll go talk
to her and ask her to leave. What exactly did you say to her?”

“I told her I couldn’t
serve her another martini, because I thought she was becoming intoxicated, and
I was the one who could be sued.”

“Thanks. I imagine this
isn’t part of your job description.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Kelly walked up to the
beautiful redhead with brilliant deep blue eyes and a porcelain complexion. She
was wearing a pink sheath dress which hugged her well-developed curves. “Mrs.
Ramos, I’m Kelly Reynolds, a friend of the new owner of Mangia! Mangia! I’m
sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave, and I’d prefer it if you
didn’t come back.”

“What are you talking
about?” she slurred. “I’m just doin’ a little celebratin’. You know the woman
who stole my husband from me’s dead. Seems they found her body this mornin’.
Serves her right for doin’ that to me. Wish it would’ve happened sooner.
Nothin’ wrong with me. Tell that idiot bartender to get me another martini.”

“No. You’ve had enough. I
don’t want to have to call the police and have them arrest you for disturbing
the peace. I’m trying to help you. Please leave and don’t come back.”

“You’d be celebratin’ too
if the woman who took your husband wound up deader than a doornail. Me and
Mitch were happy until she started showin’ up like a female dog in heat. Mitch
never was able to resist a woman in heat. Shoulda’ told her that’s the way he
is. Wasn’t the first time it happened, but he never wanted a divorce before. I
always took him back. So who gets the restaurant, Mitch?”

“No. The new owner is a
woman by the name of Sophie Marchant, a friend of Donatella’s.”

“Yeah, sure. Like she
could have any friends. Her with her sexy Italian eyes and walk, teasin’ every
man she saw. Heard Mitch was gonna star her in some TV show called Dining with
Donatella. He probably thought her show was gonna save him and his station from
bankruptcy. He never paid me any alimony, so I’m not gonna lose anything, but
he sure is. Like his television station. Bet she didn’t know how broke he was.
Whoever put her under the sod actually got both of them. Mitch’ll probably have
to declare bankruptcy, and Donatella’s dead. I like those words. Got a real
nice sound to them. Donatella’s dead. Kind of rolls off the tongue real nice
and easy.”

“Mrs. Ramos, if you don’t
leave now, I’m going to tell the bartender to call the police. I’m giving you
one more chance to leave. Now.”

Tina struggled to get down
from her perch on the bar stool and almost fell in the process, stumbling when
her foot reached the floor. Kelly put a hand on her elbow to steady her. “Don’t
touch me. I didn’t give you permission to touch me. I’m leavin’, and I won’t be
back. I was jes’ celebrating’ the death of Donatella. You can color me happy.
Mitch will get his, and she sure got hers, just like she deserved.”

She staggered unsteadily
towards the front door and opened it. “Tell yer’ friend this probably won’t
last long. Donatella’s dead, and her restaurant will soon be just as dead as
she is,” she said with a parting salvo. Tina walked out into the afternoon sun
and Kelly watched her through the window, weaving along the sidewalk as she
attempted to hail a cab.

Thank heavens she has
sense enough to get a cab and not try to drive. If the restaurant review
doesn’t ruin us, a drunken customer in an auto accident might be the final
death knell.

“
Thanks, Mrs. Reynolds,”
the bartender said. “I didn’t know she was that drunk. I only served her two
martinis. She must have been drinking before she came here. I hope that’s the
last we see of her. I really appreciate you going to bat for me.”

“Not a problem. Glad I was
able to help. Hate to categorize people, but she sure has the temperament of
the classic redhead fireball, and in her case the fire is obviously fueled by
alcohol.”

Kelly turned and walked
back to the kitchen to see how Nico and Sophie were doing.

“
Chérie
, would you
do me a favor? Could you take the new menu to Hank’s Print Shop for me? His
shop is just a few doors down the street. I’d go, but there is so much for me
to learn. I think my time would be better spent staying here.”

“Of course. I’ll take care
of it. What kind of paper do you want it printed on and how many copies? Should
I ask him if he could send the bill here, or do you want me to pay for it?”

“Tell him I’m the new
owner of the restaurant and to send the bill here. He knows I’m good for it.
Nico, I think black ink on a pale rust colored paper would work. That’s similar
to the color of the regular menu. Would that work for you?”

“Yes. That sounds great.
Kelly, I think you should order about five hundred copies. We usually wipe down
the regular menus each day, but these won’t have a protective coating on them,
so we’ll probably have to throw a lot of them away after we use them.”

“Okay. See you later.”