Slice and Dice (44 page)

While she was waiting for Frances to collect the evidence, she called a local tobacconist and described the cigarette in George’s file box. The man recognized it at once. He identified the brand as Nat Sherman on Fifth Avenue in New York. A pricey smoke with a classy pedigree, not one he sold to every Tom, Dick, or Harry — his words. She was thrilled with the news and immensely relieved, because it meant she could scratch Nathan off the list.

For the next half hour she tried to keep busy. She was about to call the Fountain Grill for a late lunch when it occurred to her that there was one person in this whole mess she hadn’t talked to yet. She couldn’t help but wonder if David Polchow, the chef who’d quit in a huff and walked out of the Belmont, might not be connected to the Buckridges in some way. Specifically, it seemed inconceivable to Sophie that a man with his culinary credentials could allow a pate that tasted like wallpaper paste to be served to his customers unless he was doing it for a reason. If the Buckridges could pay off a reviewer, why not a chef?

If she recalled correctly, Harry’d said that Polchow lived in an apartment near Riverplace. She found the number in the Minneapolis phone directory and placed the call. As the phone was ringing, she considered the best way to approach him. Tell him the truth up front? Question him a bit first? She didn’t have much time to think about it because he answered on the third ring.

“Hello?” came the high, slightly nasal voice.

“Is this David Polchow?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Sophie Greenway. We met the other night at the Belmont. I’m the new reviewer for the
Times Register.”

“Yes, Ms. Greenway, I remember you.” He sounded friendly enough, certainly not the furious chef she’d met a little more than a week ago.

“Do you have a moment to talk?”

“What’s this about?”

“The Belmont.”

Silence. “It closed.”

“Yes, I know. I’m wondering if you were aware that Constance Buckridge was interested in buying it.”

“If that’s true, then good for Hongisto. I’m sure he’ll get a fair price.”

Sophie had no such assurance. “Did you know the Buckridges paid George Gildemeister to write a negative review of the restaurant?”

More silence. “That’s nonsense. Where’d you hear such a ridiculous story?”

“I have a fax, Mr. Polchow. It was sent from the Buckridge Culinary Academy to George Gildemeister, dated this past May third. In it George was directed to make his forthcoming review even more critical. If he failed to do so, he wouldn’t get paid. His review of the Belmont appeared on the seventh.”

“What do you want me to say? If it’s true, I knew nothing about it.”

“I understand you and Paul Buckridge are pretty good friends.” She knew this was a stretch, but she’d seen them together in the Maxfield’s lobby just the other night.

“So?”

“Were you working for him, too? Was he paying you to lower the quality of the Belmont’s food?”

“That’s absurd! Slanderous! You print something like that and I’ll sue!” His voice rose a good octave. “I’m a chef, Ms. Greenway. Food is my life. If I serve substandard fare, I’m the one who gets the black eye.”

“Not if the job only lasts a couple of months, and the restaurant is already considered a hopeless case.”

“I resent your implication!”

“I don’t care what you resent, but you’d better keep listening. See, I also have proof that someone in the Buckridge family murdered George Gildemeister to keep him from blowing the whistle on their little scam. If George had made a clean breast of things, the Buckridges would have been in serious legal trouble, not to mention what it would have done to their reputation. If you’re mixed up with them, Mr. Polchow, you could easily be considered an accomplice to murder.” She didn’t know if that was true, but it sounded good.

“I don’t believe this!” His voice had taken on the same hysterical edge she’d heard that Friday night. The only difference was, this time it wasn’t an act.

“I have a theory you might be interested in. I believe that the Buckridge family has done it before, paid a reviewer to write a negative review. Then they’d simply wait for the restaurant to go belly-up. I suppose that sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. But when it did, Kenneth Merlin would sweep in and make a low but reasonable offer to buy the place, and the owner would take it because his business was all but ruined. Do you know anything about that, Mr. Polchow?”

“I certainly do not.”

“Because if you did, and you cooperated with the police, they might overlook the fact that you accepted a bribe and that you were part of a scheme to defraud the owner of a legitimate business, a scheme that led to a murder.”

“You’ve got to believe me. I had nothing to do with Gildemeister’s death! I’ve never even met the man. Honestly, until this minute I thought Harry did it. That’s what all the papers say.” He sounded desperate.

“Do
you know if the Buckridges have pulled this stunt before?”

More silence. “Look, Ms. Greenway, if I could get information, details, do you really believe the police would go easy on me?”

“Did you accept a bribe?”

Hesitantly he said, “I don’t have to answer that.”

“You’re right. You don’t.” She waited, allowing her silence to do what her words couldn’t.

Finally he said, “If I did take a bribe, it wasn’t much.”

“Who gave you the money?”

“Look, I was just doing a buddy a favor. I didn’t think it was a big deal because the Belmont was already in so much trouble. It was just a matter of time before it folded. I simply gave it a nudge. And, believe me, I knew nothing about a murder. I never would have signed on for anything like that.”

She figured that was all she was going to get — for now. “Could you dig up some specifics about other acquisitions by later today?”

“Why so fast?”

“I intend to take what I know to the police tomorrow morning. If you were to come with me and had that information in your hand, you’d be in a better position to bargain.”

“You sound like you figured this out all by yourself.”

“I did.”

“You’re smart, Ms. Greenway. I take it that you’re the only one who knows the truth? You haven’t talked to the police or confided in someone else?”

She lied. “That’s right, but after tomorrow your window of opportunity will be closed. You haven’t got much time.”

More hesitation. “I’d want a lawyer present.”

“Of course.”

He thought about it some more. “Give me until tonight. I’ll find out everything I can and then I’ll call you. Is it a deal?

Please, Ms. Greenway. I never realized this had gotten so out of hand.”

Sophie gave him her number. “Be smart, Mr. Polchow. Keep this to yourself.”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ll call you by ten. I promise.”

As soon as Sophie hung up, Frances knocked on her door. She poked her head inside and said, “Can I come in?”

The moment of truth had arrived.

“Did you find anything?” asked Sophie, erupting out of her chair. She was so anxious to look at the evidence that she all but grabbed the plastic bags out of Frances’s hand.

“Jeez,” said Frances, patting her orange hair into place. “Those people up there must all be on the verge of dropping dead of lung cancer. I’ve never seen so much cigarette trash.”

The bags had been clearly labeled according to room. “Thanks,” said Sophie. “You did a great job.”

“Made me feel like a secret agent.” Frances snapped her gum.

Sophie checked Constance’s room first. A couple of the butts matched the Nat Sherman, but the majority were Virginia Slims and dark cigarillos. The next suite was Paul and Nathan’s. Again most of the cigarettes were either Marlboro or Carleton Lights. There were two or three Nat Shermans, but clearly the person smoking them had been a visitor, not an occupant of the suite. Finally she picked up the bag from Kenny and Emily’s room. A few of the cigarettes were menthols, Emily’s brand, but the overwhelming number were Nat Shermans. Sophie had finally found her man. Unless she was badly mistaken, Kenneth Merlin had been George’s mystery visitor last Sunday night, the man who’d murdered him and then tried to frame Harry. It made sense. Considering that Kenny took care of the business side of Constance’s affairs, it was logical that he ultimately made the decision to end another man’s life to protect the future of the business.

“This is perfect,” said Sophie. “Just what I needed.” She’d already bagged the cigarette she’d found in George’s cardboard box. It would all go to the police tomorrow.

Thanking Frances again and then sending her on her way, Sophie punched in the number to Constance’s suite. She was through waiting for Nathan to call.

Arthur answered the phone.

“Hi, this is Sophie.”

“Hey, good to hear from you. I hope we get a chance to see you one more time before we leave tomorrow.”

“I hope so, too,” said Sophie. “What time is your flight?”

“Four-twenty.”

That gave her a little more leeway. “Listen, I’ve been looking for Nathan all day, but we haven’t connected. I really need to talk to him. I don’t suppose you know where he can be reached?”

Arthur sighed. “Well, let’s see. We’ve planned a family meeting at New Fonteney for seven tonight. My guess is, he’s already there. He had phone service hooked up yesterday, but I don’t have the number. Constance copied it somewhere, but she’s not here at the moment. She went downstairs to pick up a fax. If you wanted to drive out around six, I’m sure you’d find him. He’s in the process of moving into the visitor’s cabin. Do you know where that is?”

“Visitor’s cabin? I thought you’d passed on buying the place.”

“We did. But then Nathan turned around and bought it himself. I assumed he’d told you. The closing was on Friday.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, it seems he’s quitting the job he’s been doing for his mother and moving out there. He wants to open a restaurant or his own cooking school. Personally, I think it’s a fine idea.”

“I do, too.”

“And since he’ll be staying in the area, you two can see each other more often.”

That wasn’t such a fine idea. “He’s not doing this just because of me, is he?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

She intended to. “Thanks for the info. I owe you one.”

“If I hear from him, I’ll let him know you’re on your way out.”

“Thanks, Arthur. You’re a doll.”

Once she’d hung up, she glanced at the clock. It was getting close to five. If she left now, she’d easily make it by six. But first she had to leave a note for Bram.

Retrieving a piece of hotel stationery from her top desk drawer, she wrote:

Honey, I’m off to New Fonteney to talk to Nathan. Ifound some evidence today that proves he had nothing to do with George’s death. Turns out it was Kenny. I’ll explain more later. I should be back at the Maxfield by eight. Keep the home fires burning. Let’s have a quiet dinner when I get back. We ve got lots to talk about.

 

Hugs and kisses,
Me

 

She folded the note and slipped it into an envelope, wrote his name on the front, then grabbed her car keys and purse and hurried out to the lobby. After dropping the message off at the concierge desk, she headed for the front door. She couldn’t wait to talk to Nathan. She knew now why he’d been so depressed for the last couple of years and then so excited on Thursday morning. He also knew what Kenny had been up to, but to remain on good terms with his family, Nathan had buried his sense of right and wrong. It wasn’t a fair trade. She needed Nathan to tell her the full story behind George’s death. Until he made a complete break with the damaging parts of his past, he’d never be truly free. He deserved a life on his own terms. After tonight she prayed that’s what he’d find.

Constance sat on the bed in her suite and stared at the fax she’d received a few minutes ago. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, not because she was sad but because she was so deeply touched. This honor was the culmination of nearly thirty years of perseverance and hard work. Her secretary back in New Haven had faxed a copy of the letter to the Maxfield, knowing Constance would want to see it right away.

Dear Ms. Buckridge:
It is my great pleasure to inform you that you have been chosen by the Escoffier Society of America as this year’s recipient of the Auguste Escoffier Lifetime Achievement Award. Each year the society singles out an individual for the excellence of his or her work within the American culinary community. Past recipients have included a panorama of the finest culinary talent in the nation. The award ceremonies will be held at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles in late July. The night before the award is given, you are invited to be the honored guest speaker at the International Culinary Guild’s annual banquet.