Cozy Mysteries : Murder and cake - By Royal Appointment: (Cozy Food Mysteries Women Sleuths Series, Bakery Mystery Books)

by Luna Snow

  Jane doubted that very much. She didn’t take kindly to being laughed at, especially by a stranger.

  Alf Jeffries introduced himself . His hair was just starting to grey at the temples and his blue eyes twinkled as he laughed. His fingernails looked dirty and he wore a blue overalls splattered with paint.

  He was definitely not the kind of man that Sandy Jones would entertain.

  “I doubt it!”

  She turned away in a rather off-hand way, feeling slightly threatened as always by the attentions of a strange man. Her feet were killing her in the new shoes she had bought especially for the occasion- she hadn’t expected to be walking far and desperately needed to kick them off, sit down and have a nice cup of tea.

  Walking a little father along the perimeter of the gates she hoped the man would disappear but as she turned back, he was still there and watching. Jane worried in case he was stalking her- she was in the big smoke and felt suddenly vulnerable.

  “Are you sure I can’t help you Mrs…”

  “Miss”, Jane hated it when everyone presumed she must be married.

  Alf Jeffries smiled to himself. It was funny how people treated him when he was in his work clothes. The Queen said hello to him most days but he didn’t let on to many people – he wasn’t a name dropper. It was funny how appearances could deceptive – he knew that only too well.

  That was the rich tapestry of life he supposed.

  “Well if you’re sure I can’t help you?” The man shrugged his shoulders and started to walk away.

  “I’m trying to get into the Palace.” She sounded both impatient and needy at the same time.

  “Well why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’m heading there myself – step this way.”

  Smiling to himself, Alf led the way. He had recognised Jane straight away from ‘Cake-Off’ and had been keeping an eye out for her. He had admired the stocky northern baker from afar when watching the programme and had been looking forward to meeting her in the flesh. He hadn’t reckoned on her being so stroppy. Still, he liked a woman with a bit of fire-she was definitely his kind of woman.

  Jane could hardly believe that this rude and rather unkempt man was actually going into the Palace. At first she wondered if she should follow him, he seemed rather rude and it seemed highly unlikely that he would be admitted anywhere near the place. She was surprised when he produced an electronic pass to admit them both through the side gates and into a small reception building to be seated and await for her security clearance.

  “Well, I guess I will have to leave you here. I have some work to do. I’ll see you around no doubt?”

  Not if I see you first.

  “By the way, I’m Alf, Alf Jeffries, odd job man by Royal Appointment. It’s been a pleasure Jane Dough”

  With a smirk and a wink he left the room.

  What a loathsome man. He had known who she was all along. He had been playing a game with her!

  She hoped she would never have to see him again.

  Soon she was being looked after by a member of the household staff and shown to her room that would serve as her home for the rest of the week. Jane couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. It was a nice and clean, but very small and plain room. She had secretly hoped for a little bit of Royal opulence. A Jacuzzi and a king-sized bed (or Queen sized come to that!). At least a tray of tea and biscuits was brought to her room and soon, with shoes kicked off and cup of tea in hand, she was feeling almost human once again.

  At 4pm Jane was summonsed to a formal meeting in one of the great kitchens of Buckingham Palace. A young man tapped on her door at 10 minutes to the hour to lead her through the maze of corridors that led finally into the baking kitchen. There she would meet some of the other cooks and chefs who would be preparing the banquet for the Queens special day.

  Jane struggled to keep up with the young man as he strode quickly in front of her. As she rounded yet another corridor she had to stop to catch he breath and shouted to the man to wait for her. By the time they reached the kitchen they were already five minutes late.

  The kitchen was enormous and shining with bright stainless steel work surfaces and she was almost dazzled by the bright lights as she walked into the room. Jane was only used to working in her small bakery back home and she suddenly felt overwhelmed by the task before her; baking the birthday cake for the Queen of England. Could she do it?

  The others had already assembled and had been waiting for her. As she entered they all turned their gaze to the newcomer, stopping their conversations to leave an embarrassing silence in the air to announce her lateness. An officious looking woman g stood to greet Jane. She was slim with short bobbed hair and looked rather efficient and stern as she looked through wiry spectacles, inspecting the rather short and plump woman before her.

  “Ah Ms Dough, I’m so glad that you could eventually join us. I was just about to give everyone the itinerary for the week and share some house, or should I say ‘Palace’ rules. Now I hope that you will pay attention?”

  The woman smiled with a false warmth that didn’t quite reach her eyes; a rather cold and sarcastic greeting.

  The woman laughed at her own joke but none of the others seemed amused.

  “My name is Geraldine Parker and I am one of the secretaries at the Palace. I am quite new myself here, but if you need to know anything then ask me. Under no circumstances must you wander into the main areas of the Palace. If you notice the carpet is colour coded. The green carpeted areas are for staff and the red carpeted areas are strictly off limits – for the Royal Household only -this is, after all the official residence of the Royal family. Most of the doors are alarmed and marked as no entry and need a special electronic pass to enter so you cannot really go wrong. It is all quite idiot proof.”

  Geraldine seemed to look over her glasses and stare quite markedly for a moment at Jane, almost singling her out and making her feel like the naughty school girl in the class. Her already flushed face reddened with embarrassment.

  It was not a good start.

  “Now let me introduce you all to each other; we have chef Jimmy Hines and to his left his new assistant Mark Taylor from the famous ‘Posh Nosh’ restaurant in Oxford. They will be making the hors d'oeuvres and the entrée’s for the Royal Birthday Banquet”

  Both men nodded coolly towards the others but offered no words. Jimmy was a bit of a celebrity chef and known for his stand-offish and cold manner– a kind of culinary snob. He wore the classic white smock and chequered trousers of a chef, and also sported a scar above his left eyebrow that gave him a rather evil look. His sidekick Mark looked like a schoolboy, the dark fluff on his chin not even able to call itself s beard.

  “And next we have Madame Josephine Lefite from Paris and her assistant Cecile. She will be preparing the fish and main course.”

  Jane had picked up a smattering of the language from a French baking class she had attended in Provence.

  « Dieu après-midi Madame. Je suis ravi de vous rencontrer. »

  The stylish Parisian woman looked down her rather long nose at Jane as her rather effete assistant sniggered at her attempted conversation in French.

  “I think we ‘ad better keep to ze Eenglish Ms Dough “

  Jane could feel herself bristle at the obvious sleight.

  Sandy Jones would have the perfect put down!

  “And this is Alf Jeffries, the general handyman”

  “We’ve already met, Geraldine”

  Jane tried to ignore him, but stepping forward the man offered his hand in greeting, his eyes twinkling into hers.

  “Hello again, glad you could join us.”

  Alf Jeffries was the only person that had shown her any friendship during her few brief hours in London, yet she stiffened in his presence. There was something about the cheeky cockney that somehow got under her skin, he was too familiar and he made her feel uncomfortable.

  She felt her back prickle with indignation.

  “Thank you Mr Jeffrie
s, A pleasure to see you again I’m sure”

  She declined the offered hand.

  “Well enough of the pleasantries and down to business. Her Majesties Birthday celebrations take place in just three days’ time. A royal banquet is to be held for her family and a few close friends and dignitaries and you have all been assembled here to prepare a tea fit for a Queen.”

  Geraldine laughed once again at her own lame joke and Jane thought that she looked rather horsey.

  “The Palace kitchens will be at your disposal from tomorrow morning and for the next three days. You can make yourself familiar with everything tomorrow. All the ingredients and equipment you have requested has already arrived and you will need to check it through. Now, any questions?”

  Geraldine posed the question in such a way that nobody dare answer, and as she glared at them across the kitchen, her steely gaze came finally rest on Jane who seemed to be distracted.

  “Miss Dough, is there anything the matter?”

  Before she could answer her nose began to tickle. Jane loved cats though she was allergic to dogs. The mere mention of a dog hair gave her the sniffles.

  One of the Royal Corgi’s had just entered the kitchen and ran under the large kitchen table.

  “Atchooo”

  Jimmy Hines spoke on her behalf.

  “There appears to be a dog in here?”

  Josephine Lefite let out a loud shriek at the mention and the poor animal hid further under the table in an attempt to shoo the poor creature away.

  “I cannot work in zi kitchen zat has zi ‘orrible stinking dog, no?” she screeched in broken English as she tried to kick the poor pooch underneath the table.

  She muttered under her breath.

  “Stupid dog” whilst giving it a small shove with her foot.

  “STOP”

  Geraldine Parker looked as though she might have some sort of fit. Her eyes bulged and her white teeth were gritted between her red lipstick coated lips.

  “Stop that at once you silly woman. That is one of the Royal Corgi’s, her Majesties own dogs. Why it is almost treason to kick the poor dog. Now refrain from kicking the poor creature at once or I will have to call in security.”

  Josephine Lefite gave the dog an evil glare before it scampered from under the table and away to safety.

  “I’m afraid the dogs are often hanging around the kitchen so it might be wise to always keep the door shut.” Geraldine’s eyes locked with the steely Josephine’s. In a fight Jane wasn’t sure who she would bet on to come out the victor.

  When order was at last restored they were led back to their rooms. Dinner would be served in the staff dining hall at seven and they were expected to be punctual.

  As she shut the door behind her/ Jane Dough wondered what she had let herself in for. It seemed more like BOOT CAMP than Royal Palace and Geraldine Parker seemed like a Sergeant Major. However, three days wasn’t forever. Her stomach rumbled and she wondered what they would be eating for dinner. There were a couple of hours before food would be served and Jane rooted in her bag for an emergency bar of chocolate before flicking the switch on the plastic kettle that was sat on a plastic hospitality tray to make another cup of tea.

  The journey had tired her out and as she lay on the bed with chocolate and tea in hand she felt herself relax. Her eyelids began to droop and she felt herself drifting off into a light doze.

  Thud!

  The door banged shut in the next room and Jane opened her eyes suddenly. Loud yet muffled voices could be heard coming through the wall. She listened carefully trying to distinguish the voices. It was two men and she guessed it was Jimmy Hines and his assistant Mark. From their tone they seemed to be arguing, and she strained her ears against the wall to listen.

  They were talking about something to do with ‘sparklers’ but the walls were too thick for her to hear properly. Eventually the noise died down and all was quiet. Why these famous chefs had to be so highly strung she had no idea. Now she had been disturbed she was no longer sleepy and picking up the Sandy Jones novel from the side of her bed she flicked through to where she had left off.

  Max was soon eating out of the palm of her hand and by the time he had carried the boxes of cupcakes into the office, she had secured a date for the following evening. Even Jane was surprised by how easy it had been to charm the man; but when Jane set her eyes on a man he seldom got away.

  He arranged to pick her up at her city apartment and as the buzzer announced his arrival her heart started to flutter. One last glance in the mirror and she nodded in approval at her own reflection. Killer heels – tick; skin tight designer jeans – tick; low cut and slinky but not too revealing top –tick; make-up immaculate –tick; hair fabulous –tick – Sandy was good to go.

  Flicking the switch on the buzzer with a highly glossed and scarlet painted finger nail she spoke breathlessly into the intercom in a low and husky voice.

  “Hi”

  She could see Max looking back at her through the small camera; his handsome face slightly distorted by the angle of the lens. He had brought flowers too, how sweet. But he would have to wait at the door. She never invited a man inside, not on the first date.

  His glance said it all as she walked out of the expensive apartment block; all of her effort had certainly not gone unnoticed. The car was sleek and luxurious inside and as she unfolded herself into the soft interior she breathed deeply- her exotic perfume mixing with the smell of leather and a deep musky smell – definitely masculine. When they eventually drew up at the door of the swankiest French restaurant in town sandy couldn’t help smiling to herself. She had definitely struck lucky this time.

  Max was definitely no stranger to fine dining and as he gently took her by the arm and opened the restaurant door the maître d'hôtel rushed forward to greet his wealthy customer.

  “Ah Monsieur Stephens, how delightful it is to see you again Sir and your delightful lady friend. It is always a pleasure. Your usual table Sir?”

  Obviously he was usually here with a woman too. Sandy’s heart sank a little. Perhaps she had been the one who had been too easily won over? Perhaps he was a well-known ladies man and she was just another of his conquests? She would have to try and play a little harder to get in future.

  The ‘usual‘table turned out to be a small and discreet spot at the back of the restaurant in a candle lit alcove. Max ordered champagne and was the perfect host and after a couple of glasses of bubbly her steely resolve to play hard to get was abandoned and she was putty in his hands. The candle light cast a deep amber glow in his soulful brown eyes and as they ate pudding, he looked at her in a rather serious manner.

  “Sandy, can I ask you something. It may seem highly irregular as I have just met you. But there is something I must truly ask of you?”

  Her heart started to beat wildly. Was he going to propose after knowing her for such a short time?

  Looking up from her chocolate mousse, she gazed into his beautiful eyes expectantly.

  “Yes Max”

  He hesitated slightly before speaking.

  “I wondered if you would take a case on for me.”

  “A case?” Sandy’s smooth brow furrowed for a moment.

  “Yes a case. I have heard all about your detective work and well, I have a delicate matter that I need looking into and I thought that you would be just the girl for the job?”

  So that’s the reason Max Stephens had brought her here!

  She sat open mouthed like a fish whilst he talked about the case, hardly believing what she was hearing. He had been only interested in hiring her as a detective – what a cheek!

  “I don’t know if you have heard Sandy, but my company is undergoing a merger. The deal will be worth millions and we are very close to conclusion”

  Sandy was hooked as she thought of those millions of pounds and her annoyance turned to a sudden interest.

  “So what do you need me for Max?”

  Sighing, he shook his head.

  “I
just don’t know. Everything seems to be going smoothly, too smoothly if you ask me. It may be just last minute nerves, but call it my business intuition – something is not right”

  “Then why go ahead with the merger if you are not sure?” Sandy wondered why such a successful business man was consulting her.

  “That’s just it. There is no logical reason for it. It’s just a hunch – a gut feeling that I can’t articulate. This merger is worth millions and I can’t go to my shareholders and tell them that I am calling the whole deal off based on a hunch.”

  “But I know nothing about business – only baking, why me?” Sandy shook her head.