Jeremy started appearing at first as a toddler, then was missing until he was about fourteen, when he returned to the line up, each year after. Carlo became a regular at about the same time.
This whole thing was a fascinating look at Nigel’s life and I was wishing I was going to have lots of time to study it, when I remembered: I had a cell phone. Why wasn’t I using it?
In only minutes, I’d made copies of all the photos, and not a moment too soon as time ran out. The door opened and Nigel returned.
“Alright, I’ve satisfied the local gendarme. They’ve left. And now, I think we have other things to deal with.”
I turned and looked at him, wondering what I could say that would soften his heart. He looked at me, then Bebe, and smiled.
“Let’s go get some lunch.”
Bebe and I both gasped.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “You’re not having us arrested?”
“No. It seems like a waste of time.” He grimaced. “Besides, I’m hungry. How about you two?”
We piled into the red sports car and in no time we were racing down Pacific Coast Highway, the wind in our hair. I had to admit, it was pretty cool feeling like a movie star. And that was what it felt like being with Nigel. The car helped, the sunglasses he wore and the way he drove added to the picture, and when we turned in at his restaurant, the way the parking attendants rushed to help us cemented the sense of being in a fantasy world.
“Malibu royalty,” I whispered to Bebe as we were escorted out of the car and up the purple carpet and into the Pelican’s Loft. The restaurant was busy but the hostess showed us to a table right out in the middle to get the best view of the ocean, and in another moment we were seated and enjoying the breathtaking scenes around us.
“Wow,” I said to Nigel. “This is a gorgeous restaurant.”
But he wasn’t listening to me. His attention was fully on my sweet aunt.
“I remember now,” he was saying. “I remember where I saw you. It was at The Italian Kitchen’s Christmas party just a few months ago.”
Bebe was avoiding his gaze. “Yes, I believe it was,” she said stiffly.
He leaned closer, his mouth in a slight smile. “You wore a white dress with small red roses embroidered on the bodice. You looked like a Madonna yourself that day.”
Bebe’s cheeks turned red and she didn’t seem to know where to look. That made me smile. She deserved a little extra attention and she looked so pretty sitting there against the ferns and palms that filled the dining area. But she was obviously uncomfortable with the way Nigel was so flamboyantly smitten, and I needed to get some information from this man, so I tried to help her out by turning the attention back where it belonged--on the murder.
“May I ask you some questions about Marguerite?” I probed.
He barely glanced at me. “Ask away,” he said.
“Do you have a theory on who killed her?”
He pulled off his sunglasses and stared at me. “No. Do you?”
“Actually, I’ve got a few likely suspects in mind. But that’s not relevant. I want to know what you think.”
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know who could have done it. Didn’t the police arrest Carlo? Maybe he did it.”
The waiter brought menus but Nigel waved them away. “I think these ladies would like to start with the lobster salad and then the petite filet mignons along with forbidden rice and some of our best artisan breads. And our best Chardonnay. Does that sound good to you?”
We both nodded, struck dumb by the prospect of such a sumptuous meal when we’d been planning on tuna sandwiches from the local deli. But I wasn’t going to let Nigel’s generosity overwhelm my need for news. As soon as the waiter left, I turned to him again.
“I think you ought to know that I’m aware that you lied to the police about being in Destiny Bay that night.”
He stared at me again, his eyes even colder. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw you going into Marguerite’s bungalow.”
He shook his head. “No, I was at home that night. Here in Malibu. I’ve got people who will vouch for me and….”
I was shaking my head through his statement and I interrupted him as soon as I could.
“No, Nigel. I’m sorry but that just won’t wash. I saw you in the compound, and I saw you knock on Marguerite’s door and then use a key to let yourself in. What happened after that, I don’t have a clue. But I do know you were there and I also know that you told the police you weren’t. Why was that?”
His jaw was rock-hard. “Listen, there are security cameras all over that compound. They didn’t find any thing on those tapes that could tie me to that place that night. I wasn’t there.”
That was true—the fact that tapes hadn’t caught him. Why that was I just didn’t know. But I was going to find out, sooner or later.
“I saw what I saw. You were there. I’m not sure what you did to those tapes, but I know what I saw.” I was standing firm.
He stared a moment longer, then scrunched up his face and swore softly. “Okay, I was there,” he admitted.
Bebe gasped. I took a deep, satisfying breath.
“But that doesn’t prove anything,” he said firmly. “I was only there for about half an hour. She was fine when I left her. I have no idea what happened after that.”
The waiter arrived with an assistant and they began serving the meal. The plates were small masterpieces of food design. It all looked as good as it tasted and we were lost in dining ecstasy for the next twenty minutes.
“I guess Carlo isn’t your only culinary genius,” I said at one point.
Nigel smiled. “This is what I do, Miss Keahi, find genius and encourage it to prosper. That’s my genius.”
He looked at his watch as we finished up, then put his napkin on the table. “I’m sorry ladies, but we don’t have time for dessert. I have an appointment and I’m going to have to take you back to where you parked your car.”
“It’s been terrific,” I said as we gathered our things and prepared to depart. “You’ve been terrific. But I still need to ask you a couple of questions if I may.”
“Do it while we’re moving,” he said, leading us out of the restaurant.
I managed to keep up with him, but only barely.
“Is it true that you were planning to marry Marguerite?”
He glanced at me sideways. “No,” he said, and pulled open the door to his car.
“But she was your girlfriend?”
“Not any more. I mean…” He flushed, having made an unaccustomed faux pas. “You know what I mean.”
“Tell me this,” I said as he started the engine. “I know that Carlo brought Marguerite the two pans of tiramisu before you arrived that night. She threw one pan out into the yard. What was she doing with the other while you were there? Had she started eating them yet?”
“The tiramisu?” He stopped and stared at me. “They think she was poisoned by the tiramisu?”
“Yes. Didn’t you know?”
“No. No one told me that.” He looked shocked. “Listen, I ate most of that pan. It was delicious. Marguerite only had a bite or two. If that stuff was poisoned, how come I haven’t keeled over yet?”
Chapter 14
Bebe did the driving on our way back up the coast. I sat in the passenger seat and worked on my lists. I had to make lists. Otherwise I wouldn’t understand anything. And so far, I didn’t understand much.
“I’m failing at list-making,” I told my aunt as we cruised along the coast north of Ventura. “Everything is such a jumble. Nothing makes sense.”
“Okay, let’s work it out,” she said, ever the helpful one. I could tell she was still a bit shell-shocked by what had happened at Nigel’s house and how he’d acted toward her afterwards. She was awfully pretty and sweet and men always liked her—but Nigel’s reaction had thrown her for a loop. “Start with something basic. Something foundational to the entire structure.”
“Okay,” I said
slowly. “How about the Champaine family dynamics? Let’s analyze.”
She nodded. “First we have Nigel Champaine. The patriarch. Right?”
“Right. His son Jeremy is in awe of him, I’d say, but eager to learn from him and find a place in the restaurant business.” I chewed on my pencil. “What do we know about his mother?”
Bebe thought for a few seconds. “Here’s what I’ve heard,” she said. “Her name was Crystal and she died of blood poisoning when Jeremy was just five years old. Nigel was already managing the Pelican at the time. He eventually bought the place a few years later.”
“Came into some money?”
She shook her head. “From what I heard it was mostly from frugal saving and working double shifts for years.”
“Where did that leave little Jeremy?”
“Good question. But Gwen was very close to the family before Crystal died and she stayed close. She actually took care of Jeremy when he was young, then started working for Nigel in the restaurant as Jeremy got older.”
“Didn’t she say something about that when we were in her place yesterday?”
Bebe nodded. “She did.
“Ok. Let’s move on to the extended family.”
“Extended family?”
“Yes. The group who have worked for Nigel for years and seem almost as close as a family.”
“Ah.” Bebe noted a highway patrol car on the other side of the divided highway and slowed her pace a bit. “And also as combative in some ways.”
“True.”
“Okay,” Bebe said. “There’s Sandy. How long has she worked for Nigel?”
“She started working part time to pay her way through college. That was about three years ago. Now she’s pretty much full time, though she still takes some classes.”
“What do you think? Is Jeremy in love with her?”
I laughed. “You know, I don’t totally understand what his feelings are. He seems to care a lot about her, and yet….”
“And yet what? Didn’t he steal that wallet from you in order to protect her?”
“Well… I’m not sure. He also asked me about how you get a DNA test and I swear that mug he was pointing out as his sample had Sandy’s lipstick on it.”
“No kidding.”
“I’ll try and find out today how that went.”
“Let me know. Fascinating.”
“He must be worried about something that has to do with her and her activities.”
“Maybe we ought to ask Gwen.”
I looked over at her in surprise. “Gwen? Why Gwen?”
“Haven’t you noticed that Gwen seems to be the mother figure for all these lost and lonely people?”
I stared at her. I was wondering if she was projecting a bit. She’d had impulses toward motherhood envy at times. But never mind that. If she wanted to yearn for babies, let her yearn. It was none of my business.
“Here’s how I look at the whole operation,” I said after a moment of thought. “Nigel, full of talent and driving ambition, manages a swanky restaurant and garners wealth and fame through hard work and luck. Meanwhile, three women seem to orbit around him in a way. There’s Crystal, his wife. There’s Sandy’s mom, Lulu, and there’s Gwen, both his wife’s best friends. They all work for Nigel. Two of them have kids, Crystal and Lulu. Those two die for one reason or another. Gwen is left behind to care for the kids, and to care for Nigel. Right?”
“Okay,” she said dubiously.
“But Nigel is still the core, the energy force they all revolve around.”
“That’s a little simplistic, but I’ll buy it. For now.”
“Carlo joins the business and begins to rotate around Nigel like a lesser planet. Marguerite appears and does the same. But then she gains importance. Why?”
Bebe shrugged.
“What did Marguerite have that Nigel wants?” I asked.
“Beauty? Sexiness? Comfort?”
“Maybe. But I feel like something is missing.”
“The name of the killer, maybe?”
I snapped my fingers. “Exactly!”
Bebe laughed. “Okay, go back to your lists. Maybe you can figure it out if you think about it hard enough.”
“Maybe.”
But five minutes later, I was asleep.
We got home mid-afternoon. Bebe went out to find her foreman to see about an irrigation problem and I prepared to go into the police station to talk to Carlo. I really wanted to get there before they charged him, though I was probably already too late. Charged or released, either way, I needed to see him. As I left the house, a bicycle came sliding in and Sandy stepped off it.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m glad I caught you. How is Carlo?”
“I’m just on my way to see him. Aren’t you working tonight?”
She shook her head. “I got the night off. The restaurant has been half empty without Carlo there to provide any kind of draw. And everyone is really down about the whole situation.”
“Let’s hope we can get him cleared soon so he can get back to work.”
She shrugged and gave me a slanted look that told me she wasn’t too happy with me right now.
“I know you’re trying to help Carlo,” she said, “but I didn’t understand how stealing my wallet is going to help you do that.”
“Uh…what?”
“Jeremy told me about how you and your friend went up the hill and found where I’d put that wallet for safekeeping. And then he had to steal it away from you to get it back. I’m not trying to be accusatory, I just want to understand. What were you going to do with what you found in my wallet?”
This was a bit of a tough one. Hard to explain how her suspicious actions had opened the door to mine. I decided to forget all that and focus on the murder.
“Were you and Marguerite close?” I asked her.
“Not at all,” she snapped. “I couldn’t stand her and I don’t care who knows it.”
“That’s kind of a risky stand to take under the current circumstances.”
“Anyone who thinks I could kill another human being doesn’t know me. I’m a strong vegan, a strong eco-environmentalism activist, and I’m prepared to lay down my life for this planet.” Her eyes blazed with righteous passion.
“I believe you,” I answered, though I wondered how such a good vegan could justify serving all that meat every day. “That’s what makes it seem so odd that you were carrying around all that poison in your wallet.”
She flushed and her eyes looked a bit misty. “I…you just don’t understand. I was planning to use it for good, not evil. Killing another human is evil. I…I just wanted to make a stand for the land.”
“So you hid the wallet behind a ceiling tile in your living room, and when you realized the police might find it and think bad thoughts, you got it down and took a shovel and buried it on the hill.”
Her mouth opened but no sound came out. “How did you know all that?” she muttered at last. “Were you watching me?”
“Sandy, you did all that right out in the open. I couldn’t help but notice.”
“So? Is any of that against the law?”
“Not that I know of.”
Her lips trembled. “Are you going to tell the police?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have any real evidence. I only saw a flash of those cellophane envelopes when Jeremy showed them to me. Maybe he’ll hand them over.”
“No.” She was shaking her head with total confidence. “No, he won’t do that.” She looked at me expectantly.
“Oh, I get it now. Jeremy took care of the evidence for you, and now I’m the only one left who could tell the police about it. Is that it?”
When I thought of it that way, it became a somewhat worrying situation, didn’t it?
She looked slightly abashed. “Well, sort of. I just wanted to ask you not to. Because I didn’t do it. And if I get accused or anything…that would be a big mess. So…please don’t tell them.” She looked hopeful. It was obvious she was
used to giving people a sunny, charming smile and getting what she wanted most of the time.
Well, who was I to go against precedent?
“Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll keep it to myself as long as I can. But you have to do something for me.”
“And that is…?”
“Tell me who you think killed Marguerite.”
“Oh, is that all? Sure, I’ll tell you. I think Carlo did it. He was always hanging around her and saying how much he loved her and she couldn’t stand him and let him know it. But he wouldn’t give it a rest. He was driving her crazy. She got to the point where she was really mean to him, in public, in front of everyone, and she probably did that one too many times and he blew a gasket and killed her.”
I shook my head slowly. “Poison takes premeditation. One doesn’t usually poison on the spur of the moment. You need to plan.”
She shrugged. “You asked what I think, and that’s it.” She turned, obviously done with this.
But I really wanted more from her. Who else could I bring up to keep her going?
“You don’t think Jeremy could have done it?”
She actually stopped and considered that for a moment. “No, actually. I mean, I know he was worried about what would happen if Nigel married her. He talks about that all the time. That would have brought up all kinds of inheritance problems, especially if she had a kid or two. Sometimes he seemed to think she was trying to ruin his life on purpose. I mean, the man should be leaning on his own talents, hard work and initiative, don’t you think? To spend so much time worrying about whether you’re going to get a good amount of money when your father dies…that really annoys me.”
Well, there was a perspective I hadn’t thought about.
“Did he ever bring it up to her? Or to his father?”
“I don’t think so. It was just something he groused about all the time around me. And I doubt if he’ll talk about it much anymore. No point, you know what I mean? But in a way, he had good reason. Marguerite was bound to turn Nigel against Jeremy eventually, knowing how much she despised him. She was that kind of nasty. So Jeremy was totally against them getting married.” She shook her head. “But to kill her? No, I can’t see that.”
Murder and the Secret Spring Page 12
