Murder Most Frequent: three more Inspector Constable mysteries (The Inspector Constable Murder Mysteries Book 5)

by Roger Keevil

  “And were you alone on the premises at that time?” asked Constable.

  “No. Violet the cleaner was in the kitchen. She always starts in there first, before the chefs get in. And then Miss Delaroche came down from the flat – that would have been just before ten, I suppose, because she had her meeting with Oleg.”

  “Oh yes, sir?” Constable's interest was aroused. “What meeting would that be?”

  “That's another thing that usually happens on a Friday. Miss Delaroche and Oleg always have a talk about the menus for the following week. Say what you like about Oleg, he does care about his food, but Miss Delaroche didn't always see things his way, so these meetings weren't always a lot of fun.”

  “We have met Mr. Lamb, sir,” said Constable with a smile.

  “Well then, you know what he's like,” said Alan. “He doesn't take kindly to having his menus mucked about. I say 'mucked' - that's not exactly the work he uses, but you know what I mean. I usually keep out of the way. But I know he wasn't exactly full of the joys of spring when he came back through to the kitchen afterwards.”

  “Hmmm.” Constable filed the information away quietly in his mind. “So can you tell us who else was around the restaurant during the course of the morning?”

  Alan thought for a moment. “I know Toby Rockard was down here sometime yesterday morning – that's right, it must have been some time after eleven, because Miss Delaroche asked me to make a note that Miss Peel's booking had to be changed to a table for two, because Toby would be joining her.”

  “Yes, we have been informed that Mr. Rockard was dining with Candida Peel in the restaurant last night.”

  Alan looked around and unconsciously lowered his voice. He leaned forward confidentially towards the inspector. “Actually, I don't like telling tales out of school, but Miss Delaroche and Toby had a bit of a row after that. I couldn't help overhearing, because I got trapped behind the bar because I was refilling the sherry decanters, and Oleg doesn't like me going through the food prep area during the mornings, so I couldn't get past without them seeing me.”

  “And what exactly did you overhear?” asked Constable.

  “It was something about Toby having to be nice to Miss Peel, and Toby said he wasn't going to be used like some sort of gigolo, and then Miss Delaroche said that it wouldn't be the first time he'd played around, and it wasn't too much to ask to get a decent write-up. It all got very heated, and then he stormed off.”

  Constable exchanged glances with Copper. “And that was the last you saw of him?”

  “In the morning, yes.”

  “And how about Miss Delaroche? When would have been the last time you saw her?”

  “Ooh, now let me see.” Alan paused in reflection. “I think … no, I'm sure that was just before we opened at seven-thirty yesterday. That's when I go off for the evening. Yes, I'd done my usual, helping Pepe the chef get the ice carving through here ...”

  “Sorry, sir?” Constable halted the flow. “What ice carving? I've not heard about this. Copper, what's this about?”

  “Sorry, guv,” said Dave Copper. “Didn't think it worth the mention. No, when we got here last night, there was some sort of an ice sculpture on a trolley just there.” He pointed in the direction of the bar.

  “That was one of Miss Delaroche's ideas,” explained Alan. “Ice, you see – 'Palais de Glace', and all that. All part of the image. You want to ask Pepe about it – he can tell you all the ins and outs.”

  “Never fear, sir, we shall. But you were telling us about Miss Delaroche's movements last night.”

  “Well, I don't think I can tell you very much, actually, inspector, because I wasn't here, was I? No, as I say, Pepe and I came though, and Miss Delaroche was doing what she usually did just before opening, which was going round the tables making sure that the cutlery settings and the glasses were all perfectly aligned – she was a great stickler for everything being just so. You know, making sure that all the ornaments on the shelves were lined up and all the pictures were straight, and so on. Of course, everybody knew what she was like, so they always make sure that everything's spot on … oh, except for that picture I was talking about earlier on.” He gestured towards 'The Queen's Diamonds'. “That's the one that always has to be straightened up these days, ever since Miss Ladyman had it cleaned. That's the other lady who owns the restaurant,” he added in parentheses. “She's an expert on art and what-have-you – got her own gallery – and the picture was looking a bit grubby, so she arranged for it to be sent away to be cleaned. And we had to put up some big picture of a flower arrangement in its place. Horrible! But it was all worth it, because when the picture came back, it looked absolutely beautiful. All bright and fresh, and you could see all the little sparkles on the queen's necklace just like they must have been when it was first painted. The only trouble was, I think the cleaners must have messed about with the frame, because it's never been right since. It sort of drops to one side, and it never used to. I said to Miss Delaroche that I could easily put a little screw into the frame and run a bit of wire to stop it happening, but she wouldn't let me – didn't want me spoiling it, because the frame itself is an actual antique. Well, she's the boss … was, I should say.”

  “Indeed, sir,” agreed Constable heavily. “So, you saw Miss Delaroche doing some sort of last minute inspection, and then what?”

  “That was it, really, inspector. They were just about to open the front door, and I never stay around when the customers are here, so I got my anorak and I went home. And then I came back at about eleven to see the last of the staff off so that I can lock up and set the alarms, and I found your lot here.”

  “I see. Well, Mr. Key, I'm sure that what you've told us will be extremely useful, so I think that about wraps it up.”

  “Oh good.” Alan got to his feet. “So can I get on with my work now?”

  The inspector shook his head. “I'm afraid not, sir. We can't allow any further disturbance to what is, after all, a crime scene.”

  “But what about tonight?”

  “The restaurant will not be opening tonight, sir. So I suggest you make the most of the opportunity to take a day off.”

  “Oh. Right. I will then.” Alan seemed at something of a loss. “If you're quite sure …?”

  “Quite sure, sir.” The two detectives watched the disconsolate form of the maintenance man as he slowly made his way towards the exit.

  *

  “Interesting little morsel, that, guv,” remarked Dave Copper.

  “And precisely which morsel are we talking about?” enquired Andy Constable.

  “That bit about Toby Rockard and Candida Peel. He's acting a bit offhand about her, and now it sounds as if the dead woman, with whom he's supposed to be having a relationship, is pulling some rather grubby strings. She wanted him to jump, so to speak, and it doesn't seem as if he was just prepared to say 'how high?'.”

  “Reading between the lines, I think we know precisely how high Angelique Delaroche wanted him to jump. My question is, to what degree was this reluctance genuine? I have an odd feeling that our Mr. Rockard, despite what he said, may be better acquainted with La Peel than he's letting on.”

  “But maybe there's a sniff of a motive there, guv,” Copper pointed out. “Macho bloke, maybe being told to perform to order – that's not necessarily going to go down too well … oh hell, you know what I mean!” he protested in response to the inspector's amused sideways glance.

  “I suggest our best source of information on that little matter will be the lady herself,” said Constable. “So, if we've run out of people on the premises, let's go and have a nice cosy chat with her. You did say you'd got an address?”

  “Yes, guv. I phoned her earlier. Apparently she's at her office this morning.”

  “Working on a Saturday?” exclaimed Constable. “Now that shows dedication, wouldn't you say, sergeant?”

  “Absolutely, sir,” assented Copper with an outwardly cheerful smile. “Be nice to have the choice so
metimes,” he muttered rebelliously under his breath.

  As the detectives emerged from the restaurant's rear door into the yard, their ears were assailed by the sound of an operatic aria, sung enthusiastically if not entirely accurately, coming from the staff shed.

  “And that, if I'm not much mistaken, is probably the sound of our missing Italian chef,” deduced Constable. “Bit of a national cliché, wouldn't you say? Although I have to say that I've never heard that particular piece of music murdered with such determined brio.”

  “Why? What is it, guv?”

  “It's 'The Blacksmith's Chorus' from 'Il Trovatore', sergeant, if you're really that interested. Can't say I've ever detected a particular fascination with opera in you before.”

  “No, sir, but you're always telling me that odd bits of information never go to waste. Anyway, as he's here, do you reckon we ought to grab him while we've got the chance.” Copper paused elaborately. “Strike while the iron's hot, as it were?”

  Constable gave his junior a long slow look, then chuckled reluctantly. “Sergeant, you are either remarkably clever, or remarkably annoying. One day, I shall make up my mind which. Come on, get your notebook out.” He rapped sharply on the shed door and walked straight in, to find the young chef, clad in white jacket and black-and-white check trousers, adjusting his neckerchief in the mirror as the detectives entered. The inspector swiftly introduced himself and his colleague. “I'm surprised to find you getting ready for work, sir,” he commented. “Under the circumstances.”

  “I know. Is terrible about Miss Delaroche,” replied the chef. “Your policeman outside tell me, and I think maybe I should not come in, but he said you want to see me. And I don't have nothing else to do, so when I get here, Chef said that I should get on and prepare as much as I can from today's food delivery, because then we can freeze a lot of things and then they don't go to waste. That's what he's doing.”

  “Good thinking, sir,” approved Constable. “But I'm sure he won't mind if we keep you from that for just a few minutes to answer a few questions.”

  “No. It's okay. And I like Miss Delaroche a lot – she is a nice lady – so whatever you want, you ask.”

  “Might as well talk in comfort.” Constable took a seat in one of the armchairs and waved the young cook to the other, while Copper positioned himself at the table, pad at the ready. “So, let's start with the basics, sir. Name?”

  “My name is Giuseppe Roni, but everybody calls me Pepe. I am the Second Chef here.”

  “And have you been working at the restaurant a long time, Mr. Roni?”

  “I been here about two and a half years now,” said Pepe. “I started out before at the Dorchester House Hotel in London, and then I was on the Queen Alexandra for a couple of years.”

  “A cruise ship, eh? That must have been interesting, working for Cunard.” Constable gave an irritated glance over his shoulder at the sudden inexplicable snort from Copper.

  “Sorry, guv … bit of a sneeze.”

  “You hear a lot of stories about all the food they do on these big liners,” resumed Constable. “High standards, and so on. I dare say that made it easy to get a job at a good restaurant like this one.” He snapped his fingers. “That reminds me! Somebody mentioned ice-carvings, which is the sort of thing they do on these cruise ships, isn't it?”

  Pepe was eager to explain. “Yes, that's where I learn to do it, on the Alex. We always used to do a lot of ice sculptures for the formal nights and for the special midnight buffets when she was cruising, and I was mostly on the desserts station, and my boss, he was the expert, so he taught me so I could help him out. It was great – I got really into it, and they gave me my own special kit – you know, the hammer and the chisel and the ice-pick and all those. I still got it.”

  “And I gather you still use it.”

  “Yes. When I come here, Miss Delaroche, she said it would add a special thing to the restaurant for me to do the sculptures, what with the name – you know, 'Palace of Ice' – so every day I do the different carving, and it goes in the cold room until we put it out in the restaurant at the start of the evening.”

  “Right then, Mr. Roni.” Constable marshalled his thoughts. “Let's retrace our steps, if we may. I'm wanting to build up a picture of the events of yesterday. What sort of time do you usually start work in the restaurant?”

  Pepe glanced at his watch. “This sort of time, really. I normally get in somewhere between ten and eleven in the morning, but it all depends on what I'm doing that week – you know, starters or puddings or whatever.”

  “And were you working on your own yesterday morning?”

  “No. Oleg, he came into the kitchen just after I get here, and he was in a big temper. But this is not so unusual with him, to speak the truth. It is because he had just had his Friday menu meeting with boss lady. He was going on about cuts in his budget, and he said that if she thought he was going to risk losing his Pirelli Diamond, she would soon be finding out about the cuts.”

  “But I presume Miss Delaroche was not with him at that time?”

  “No, she was not there then. She was in the kitchen at some times later, but not for long – just to and fro like normal. I don't remember exactly when.”

  “How about other people around the place?” enquired Constable. “Staff, visitors, that sort of thing.”

  “I remember I saw that Toby Rockard, he came in through the back door just after I got here, so that must have been about eleven o'clock, I think, but he didn't come into the kitchen, and he went off in a rush about a quarter of an hour later. He didn't speak to me – I don't really have much to do with him. I think he is a bit of a … what is it they say, 'meat-head'?”

  Constable managed to keep a smile off his face. “Yes, Mr. Roni, that's what they say, all right. So, anyone else?”

  “Miss Ladyman was here – she's a friend of Miss Delaroche, and I think partner too. She comes to the restaurant quite a lot. And she dropped into the kitchen just to say 'ciao' at about midday, I think.”

  “Was that all?”

  “Well, I know she make a phone call to someone after that, because I could overhear it when I go out to the bar to get some liqueur to put in the gateau.”

  “Do you have any idea what the call was about?”

  Pepe thought for a moment. “I did not hear all of it. I remember she speak about 'dissolving things', and then she said something about someone 'having to help because, after all, once a solicitor …', and then she laugh. And then she said 'I will see you later', but then I went back to the kitchen, so I don't hear no more.”

  “Okay.” The inspector pondered briefly. “That would take us up to lunchtime. Then, I presume, you were busy for a while with service.”

  “Yes,” nodded Pepe, “although yesterday it was not too much.”

  “How about after lunch? Do you carry on working right through?”

  “No, because I go home afternoons because of working in the night. And I was just about to leave, because I had done all my mise-en-place for the evening ...”

  “Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Dave Copper, pencil hovering. “Could you spell that? I didn't quite get it. What is it – some kind of pudding, like tiramisu?”

  Andy Constable concealed a smile as Pepe explained. “No, sorry – is chef-talk. It means I had got everything ready for later ...”

  “I think you'd better carry on with telling us what happened, Mr. Roni,” said Constable, “rather than attempting at this stage to translate the entire contents of the 'Larousse Gastronomique'. You say you were about to leave. Evidently something occurred to stop you.”

  “Well, sort of, although it was not to do with me. I was just going past the office to come out here to change, and I could hear Miss Delaroche, and she was tearing the strip off Carey – is that right?”

  “Close enough, sir. And this was because …?”

  “He had poured wine all over one of the lady customers at lunch, and the lady, she make one hell of a fuss becau
se it was a designer dress, and Miss Delaroche was saying about 'too much alcohol', and she say 'drinks are supposed to be for the guests to drink', and she told Carey it was the last time he would get away with it, and she didn't care who he was. I know I should not listen,” admitted Pepe, “but I was little bit worried, because we all work together, and it is all one big family.”

  “So you were concerned?” asked Constable.

  “Yes. I pop back into the kitchen and say to Oleg, 'Boss lady, she is off again. I think you better talk to Carey', and then I went home. I think that must be about a quarter to three. Yes, that is it, because I see Violet just coming down the road.”

  “And you returned to the restaurant at what time?”

  “I got back about seven o'clock, and then I finish off some bits and pieces, and then Alan and I put the ice carving on its trolley and took it out into the restaurant just before we opened. You know, I think it was one of my best. Alan, he suggest the idea, because it was St. George's Day, so I did the group of St. George and the Dragon, with St. George standing with the sword raised just about to kill the monster. And Oleg, he made the joke, and said it was the best way to deal with dragons.”

  “Actually, guv, I remember it now,” butted in Copper. “It was pretty impressive.”

  “It is a shame you could not see it, inspector,” continued Pepe, “but of course, it has all melted now.”

  “Rather like Hamlet's 'too too solid flesh',” remarked Constable, to the evident surprise of the other two. “You know the quote - 'Melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a dew' – no?” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “Well, no matter. Anyway, you were saying, you took this sculpture out into the dining room.”

  “Yes. We always put them under the diamonds painting at the start of the evening, and then we bring them back through a couple hours later, before they have melted too much.”

  “And can you tell us, was there anyone other than staff around at the start of the evening?”

  “No, it was just Carey, and the waitress, Edna, out in the dining room before the guests started to arrive. Miss Delaroche had come back through into her office then, I think, but I did see Toby – he was hanging about in the back corridor, and Miss Delaroche came out and was talking to him. I think it was all a bit angry, from what I could see, but then Carey came to fetch him because he say Miss Peel has arrived.”