by J. C. Eaton
Then I turned to Godfrey and whispered, “I should have mentioned it but—”
Godfrey gave me a wink. “It’s okay. I haven’t been living under a rock. Only going there occasionally to look for specimens.”
I laughed and reached over to give his wrist a quick squeeze. Then I motioned for the server with the bacon-wrapped morsels of chicken to put a few on my plate. So far, so good. If what Theo said was true, I’d be able to execute my plan in plenty of time. Two slices of filet mignon later, along with ancho beef and parmesan-crusted pork, I was more than satiated. Finger Lakes wines were featured and, although I was tempted, I decided to stick with ice water.
When the servers cleared the tables and set-up the coffee service, I excused myself under the guise of needing to call Bradley. That part was true, but I omitted the real reason I needed to hightail it out of there. I had to follow through with my plan.
Chapter 33
The door to the utility room opened without a glitch. I made a mental note to buy stock in duct tape and walked up the stairwell to the reserve ballroom. Everything looked the way it did earlier in the day, with one exception. Sheets of block chocolate had been placed on each of the preparation tables.
Since I had no idea which chocolatier would be assigned to a particular table, I had no choice but to take my chances and select two tables for the spiders, hoping one of them belonged to my suspect. As for the dead earwigs…well, I really wasn’t sure why I grabbed them in the first place. It was like impulse shopping at its worst. Still, a properly placed dead earwig might suffice, should the spider-less table house the killer. Without giving it further thought, I concealed the dead earwigs on each table directly underneath the linen cloth that covered the tray of dipping forks.
The spiders were my real concern. I worried they might scurry off. Then again, maybe I could place them under something where they weren’t as likely to escape. I stood directly in front of the tables and tried to figure out how I was going to do that when I heard voices coming from the small kitchen off to the left. I had to move fast.
Each table had some large spoons on it. Face up. Quickly, I placed a spider under the largest spoon at the first two tables and then overturned the spoon at the third table so everything would look identical. I was about to retreat when I heard footsteps. Not heavy thudding footsteps but the sound that high heels made on wooden floors.
There was no time to bolt out of there, so I did the only thing I could. I crawled under the table and prayed the skirting would hide me. I held my breath as the footsteps got closer. The skirting was about four inches from the floor. Enough space for me to crouch to the ground and take a peek. Sure enough, I stared at a pair of women’s stiletto heels, complete with a tiny strap and rhinestones. Definitely not the kitchen staff.
It felt as if my every single breath got louder and louder. Whoever was at the table took their time. Overhead, I heard rustling. I wouldn’t put it past Anika or even Allete to sneak over to their table and do what? Cheat? It wasn’t as if they were hiding answers to a midterm exam.
A quick movement from the stiletto-heeled woman and she left with a click-click echoing across the floor. Setting a world’s record for exhaling, I crawled out from under the table and studied the set-up. I seriously doubted the woman had messed with my table embellishments or she would have made some sort of sound. Even a tiny gasp. Nope. Whatever it was she did, or didn’t do, wasn’t noticeable.
To be on the safe side, I tiptoed across the room and back to the utility room. That was when the second the door opened from the other side and I was face-to-face with Stanislav. His hair was untamed and he was in dire need of a shave. I opened my mouth to speak and he immediately cupped it with his hand.
“Not a word. Understand?”
I nodded like a bobble-head doll and he removed his hand. My heart beat fast and my hands began to shake. “I thought you were under arrest.”
“Ha! Those buffoons got the evidence wrong. It wasn’t antifreeze they found in that flavor marinator. It was a mixture of corn syrup and blue food coloring. Someone went to a lot of trouble to get me out of the way but it didn’t work. I have a plan of my own to find out who it was. That’s why I snuck up here. Staying at this hotel has its advantages. Allete and I could watch the comings and goings of the staff. That’s how I knew that the competition would be in this ballroom and not downstairs.”
I gulped and bit my lower lip. A stream of saliva rolled down my chin. At least I hoped it was saliva and not blood. Stanislav reached into the pocket of his black trousers and handed me a cloth handkerchief. “Please. Do not be alarmed. My plan does not include murder.”
Again, I nodded like a ridiculous bobble-head doll. “Um, okay, then. I really need to get back downstairs.”
“Not a word. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
I figured what the heck. If my plan didn’t work, then maybe Stanislav’s would. I retreated down the stairs and leaned against the wall. I had to call Bradley. And I had to compose myself.
Bradley’s voice sounded as if he was standing right next to me. It had to be the Bluetooth service. “I’m on Route 14 north. I should be there in less than twenty minutes. Don’t save me any food. I ate at the Roscoe Diner.”
“The competition hasn’t started yet. It’s on the second floor in the reserve ballroom. Go in there. I’ll look for you.”
“Can’t wait. The drive’s been hellish and Yonkers was worse. See you in a bit.”
I got back downstairs as everyone was finishing their dessert. Some sort of cheesecake that looked fantastic.
“We didn’t know what kind you wanted, so we ordered the chocolate and vanilla swirl for you,” Godfrey said. “Everything all right with Bradley?”
“Yes. He ate on the way. Said the drive was awful but he’ll be here in less than a half hour. I told him to go directly to the competition on the second floor.”
“How did you know it was on the second floor?” Theo asked.
“Um, er, uh…”
“Because it’s on the program,” Rosalee said. “Didn’t any of you bother to read it?”
I spooned the rich cheesecake into my mouth and shut my eyes. It was a moment I wanted to savor, but if all went well, I’d soon have another.
Again, an announcement was made, only this time the speaker directed everyone to the upstairs reserve ballroom. As we stood from the table, Theo gave me a poke. “You still haven’t told me about this evidence you have.”
“Actually, it’s more like a plan.”
He shot me a look. “A plan as in something you’re considering or, God help us, something you’ve already set in motion?”
“The last thing you said.”
The six of us exited the table and followed the crowd to the second floor, waiting our turns at the elevators.
“This plan of yours,” Theo whispered as we got in the elevator, “it won’t disrupt the chocolate competition, will it?”
Not anymore than Stanislav’s. I crinkled my nose and shook my head. “Nah.”
Magazine editors and publishers, along with famed chefs and media moguls, were already seated in the row of honor when our little entourage made its way into the reserve ballroom. Rosalee thundered into the first available row that had six adjacent seats. Our row was fourth or fifth from the front, and I made sure there was an empty seat at the end for Bradley. Godfrey was on my other side, with Theo next to him.
Reporters flanked both sides of the room and snapped photos of the preparation tables as well as a few shots of the first row. I clutched my purse next to me and prayed my hunch was right.
A few moments later, Henry walked to the front of the room and introduced the program. He asked that the audience remember Jules Leurant with a moment of silence and then thanked everyone for their support. When the judges were introduced, the audience rose and gave them each a thunde
rous applause. Then the chocolatiers were summoned from the small kitchen area to the center of the room where they were introduced with a similar amount of fanfare. Henry explained that “due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control, Stanislav wouldn’t be able to participate in tonight’s competition and Earvin Roels would be taking his place.”
There was so much rumbling from the audience that Henry had to clear his throat at least three times. Then, shouts from the reporters.
“Was Stanislav arrested for murder?”
“Was Stanislav killed?”
“Was Stanislav abducted?”
Henry ignored all the questions and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. I seriously doubted the White House Press Secretary would have been able to pull off that announcement without a hitch.
The chocolatiers, who were dressed in black chef coats with red and gold trim, stood motionless behind Henry. Allete and Anika had their hair pulled back and both had chosen to use ribbons to hold it in place. Earvin looked like the proverbial cat that had eaten the canary. Without prompting, he took a bow and positioned himself at the second table. That was one of the tables where a spider was hiding under the large spoon. But who knew where Stanislav was lurking.
Allete was given the first table and she strode behind it with a look of sheer determination. Only Anika seemed a bit wary as she made her way to the third presentation table. Once the chocolatiers were standing directly behind their tables, the editor-in-chief of Food & Wine told the audience what the chocolatiers were about to create. In no uncertain terms, the three of them had ninety minutes to create a chocolate castle complete with its own royal family.
My sister and I once insisted on making a gingerbread house for Christmas when we were little and my mother, not wanting to disappoint us, agreed to let us try. The end result, although edible, looked like a structure that had been condemned and slated for demolition.
Next, the editor explained the criteria for judging the piece and welcomed everyone to enjoy the process. I leaned back and wondered how long it would take before I knew for certain who the killer was. Of course, I had no idea what Stanislav had in mind, but I was fairly certain it wouldn’t interfere with my arthropod plan. As things turned out, it didn’t matter. No amount of foresight could have prepared me for what happened next.
I’d seen numerous tennis matches on TV during which one of the players went ballistic at the referee, even going so far as to smash an expensive racket on the ground and let loose with a series of expletives. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the plan I loosely set in motion. If I could have walked back to those tables and returned the earwigs and spiders to the Ziploc bag in my purse, I would have done so without hesitation.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
At first, the chocolatiers seemed to be fixated on the same process. They had to introduce the block chocolate to the tempering machine. Then, it happened. Allete lifted the cloth from her tray of dipping forks and bent down to take a closer look. Immediately, she grabbed a small spoon, scooped what I knew to be the earwig from the tray, and flung it directly at Earvin, who was otherwise occupied at his table.
“Mince!” she shouted, followed by “Punaise!”
I had no idea what those words meant, but I knew I wasn’t likely to find them on Rosetta Stone. Next, Earvin, who hadn’t yet realized he, too, was in possession of a dead insect, not to mention a spider that still had some life in it, returned the favor by shouting, “Gaot eroep zitte, joeng!” Again, I didn’t expect to find that retort in a guide to conversational Dutch.
The only person not embroiled in the mudslinging was Anika. She continued to temper her chocolate and set out a series of molds. Then she lifted the cloth from the tray with the dipping forks and looked down. A second later, she stabbed her earwig with one of the forks and marched it over to Earvin, where she waved it under his nose. “I have every right to be here, you sniveling, self-centered, chocolate turd! Your childish antics won’t deter me.”
“My antics?” he shouted. “You two women are insane.”
With that, Earvin went back to his table, muttering in Dutch or maybe even German. Anika returned to her table, but only after flicking her index finger at Earvin. Whatever that meant. Meanwhile, Allete poured some of her tempered chocolate into a series of small molds as if nothing had happened.
“What was that about?” Rosalee leaned forward in her seat.
“Artistic differences,” I replied.
I watched Allete and Earvin carefully, hoping they’d notice the spiders I placed under their large spoons. With my gaze oscillating between the two of them, I didn’t see Anika unwrap another block chocolate, presumably for the tempering machine. By the time I figured out what was going on, Anika was at Earvin’s throat, pointing the prongs of a dipping fork directly under his chin.
“Will someone kindly remove this madwoman?” Earvin shouted. “She’s lost her mind.”
“And you’re about to lose this contest, you murderous scoundrel,” Anika replied. “Next time you want to send me a message, use Facebook and not my chocolate. You think I don’t know about that incident in Amsterdam? Jules’s assistant used to work for the same chocolate company I did in Denmark before he signed on to assist your miserable uncle.”
“I never went near your precious chocolate. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
At that juncture in time, cameramen and reporters rushed to the front of the room to capture, what I imagined would be, the next big news story. And Stephanie rushed over to where I was seated and motioned for me to follow her.
I kept turning my head to the presentation area as I inched my way out of the row and over to a corner of the room, where Stephanie stood against the wall.
“What’s going on? From the looks of things, this could be explosive,” I said.
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. I might have had something to do with it. This idea sort of popped into my head really late last night and I knew I had to act on it.”
“Idea? What idea?”
Stephanie bent her head down and kept her voice low. “When you told me about the breakdown Allete had over some message in the block chocolate, I got the idea to re-create the scenario during the competition. I figured it would unnerve the killer, who I think might be Earvin, and he would give himself away. I sneaked into that small kitchen area, found the block chocolates and carved KILLER messages in all three of them. I wanted to substitute them for the chocolate that was already there. Unfortunately, I only got to one table. I could have sworn someone was watching me so I got the hell out of there before I could substitute the other two.”
I looked at the floor and groaned. “That was you? The clicking of your heels could be heard in Baltimore.”
“You were there? You were the person who was watching me?”
“Shh! Yes. I had an idea, too. Only mine was a bit more graphic.”
“What do you mean by ‘graphic’?”
I told Stephanie about the earwigs and the spiders and her jaw dropped. “Geez, Norrie, you know what this means, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “What?”
“Health inspectors. I bet money someone’s going to notify the Ontario County Health Department.”
“It wasn’t like I flooded the place with roaches,” I muttered. “But you’re right. In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best idea.”
“You think?”
“Listen,” I said, “I read that pamphlet about the chocolatiers from cover-to-cover yesterday. And I paid a great deal of attention to the family photos.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I think I know who killed Jules.”
Chapter 34
Suddenly, we heard a commotion coming from the hallway in front of the ballroom.
“You have thirty seconds to remove him or I’ll do it myself!”
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br /> I recognized the voice immediately. It was Stanislav’s and, before the other parties in the hallway could respond, he charged through the doors, past the rows of attendees, and onto the presentation area. Without so much as stopping to catch his breath, Stanislav lifted Earvin from the man’s waist and proceeded to dump him in front of the judges’ table. But that didn’t deter Earvin. He kicked Stanislav in the shins and the ankles, all the while bellowing in a language none of us understood.
The shock on Allete’s face was a dead giveaway. I was positive she never expected Stanislav to be released from the county lock-up, given the incriminating evidence against him.
I whispered to Stephanie, “Her. Allete. And if Stanislav isn’t careful, he’ll be next.”
“Stanislav? That’s her boyfriend or lover, or whatever you call it these days.”
“That’s what she wanted everyone to think, but it was a trap so she could get her dirty work done and then take the winnings to bail out her ex-husband’s company. And Stanislav fell for it.”
“What does any of that have to do with your dead insects and those spiders?” she asked.
“Hold on, I’ll get to that.”
Just then, Stanislav shouted to Earvin, “I’m removing you to save your life, you insignificant little worm. There’s a brown recluse spider on your table and if it touches you, you’ll need at least a dozen skin grafts to save your flesh.”
I turned to Stephanie. “A brown recluse spider? Oh my God! I thought I put house spiders on the tables. And how does he know?”
Stanislav then marched over to Allete. “Sorry, darling. I have a bad habit of reading other people’s diaries. And how you got that thing past customs is beyond me.”
Allete began to sob, insisting she didn’t do it.
“Save your theatrics for the deputies. When the lab report came back about corn syrup and blue coloring, there was no doubt in my mind you were the culprit. That was the mixture you were working on for one of your chocolate fillings. When I realized that, I snuck a peek at your diary. Imagine my surprise when I read you and Daan were never divorced.”
