by Nell Hampton
“What do you think happened?” Agnes said to me from the stair below mine.
“Maybe they got some bad ingredients,” I shrugged. “The judges seem to be okay. Strange.”
“I don’t think Chef Butterbottom and his crew pretested their pies like we did.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” I said. “The judges didn’t get sick. I wonder if Chef Butterbottom drank anything that the judges and we didn’t.”
“I think he had tea brought in,” Agnes said. “Probably had bad milk or something.”
“Huh,” I said.
We waited there while they hauled Chef Butterbottom off in the ambulance along with the four members of his staff. Everyone else was checked out, but no one else was sick. CID was taking samples from every cup plate and saucer in Butterbottom’s kitchen.
“Are you ladies all right?” a tall, thin ambulance technician asked. His nametag said Hyde.
“Yes.” I stood. “I feel fine. Agnes?”
“I’m fine as well,” she said, standing beside me.
“Good,” he said with a shy smile. His blond hair fell into his blue eyes. “I’ve brought you some water. You could be here a while until Detective Chief Inspector Garrote gets to you.”
“Thanks for checking on us,” I said.
“And thanks for the water,” Agnes said. She opened her bottle and went to take a swig when it was slapped out of her hand by a policewoman. “What are you doing?”
“Do you know that man?” The policewoman asked.
“No, but we don’t know you, either,” I pointed out.
“Until this thing is resolved, you should think twice before eating or drinking anything around here. Okay? We don’t know the source of the sickness yet.”
“I think we’ve narrowed it down,” DCI Garrote said as he approached us.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Is it in the water?” Agnes asked.
“It appears someone poisoned Chef Butterbottom and his staff.”
Chapter 16
“Poison?” I asked. “Are they going to be okay?”
“For the most part,” the inspector said. “They will be out for at least twenty-four hours. The doctors tell me that the poisoning, while severe, was not life-threatening.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said sincerely.
“The poison, however, is one we may have seen before.” The Inspector looked at me.
“Where have you seen it?” I asked.
“The ambulance techs fear it is the same poison that killed Wentworth Uleman.”
“No!” I put my hand over my mouth.
“Yes,” he said, his mouth a thin line. “I have to ask you Chef, did you poison your competition?”
“What? No!” I protested. “No, he already won. Why would I poison him?”
“Because he won,” DCI Garrote said. “It is pretty fishy that Butterbottom and his crew are all sick and you are not.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “I didn’t have access to any of his ingredients.” I turned to Agnes. “We were both too busy prepping our own stuff to even go over to his things. Plus, there were four assistants at his station. It seems like one of them might have seen something.”
“And we will interview them all,” he said. “Once they are stable enough to comment.”
“We were very careful with our ingredients,” Agnes said. “We tasted every one and tested each pie before anyone else was able to eat them. That might be why we aren’t sick.”
“It’s true,” I said. “The last two rounds used ingredients provided by the producers. Besides, you can ask my show wrangler, Alex. He was with us every minute we weren’t on camera.”
“I’ll be sure to question him,” DCI Garrote said. “But I have to ask you, do you have access to household chemicals? Gardening chemicals?”
“No,” I said. “Of course not.”
“Aren’t you dating a gardener?” He looked at me intently.
“What?” Agnes also peered at me.
“I went out for drinks with him,” I said. “That’s all.”
“I see,” the inspector said. “And couldn’t this gardener who you went out to drinks with have access to gardening chemicals?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose he could. He is a gardener. It didn’t come up in our date-night conversation.”
“I see,” he said and made a note. “I will need to see all of your things. We will be testing the baskets and containers for any trace evidence that might be on them.”
“Wow, testing everything is a big job. It’s going to take a while, isn’t it? What happens to evidence like my pie pan?”
He gave me a look. “Once the investigation is complete and the poisoner brought to justice, the articles that can be returned will be returned. In this case, the pie pan is the murder weapon, therefore it will never be returned. I would suggest you requisition a new one.”
“Right,” I said with a sigh. The CID techs took our things away to process them.
At the end of the day, the duchess had cooked for her family for the entire day. I came in second in the competition, and the winner, my supposed rival, was still in the hospital recovering from having his stomach pumped.
Not exactly my best day.
I let Agnes go home since we didn’t have anything to bring back to the kitchen. The pie auction was cancelled. I hated to see the food wasted, but they couldn’t take the risk of more people getting sick.
What poison was used?
Detective Chief Inspector Garrote wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me anything more than it may have been the same thing that killed Wentworth. I assumed it was some sort of household or gardening chemical since that is what he asked me about. But what could kill one person immediately and only make five other people sick?
I guess it depends on Wentworth’s autopsy. Maybe he had something else in his system like alcohol or drugs. Or maybe he had a much larger dose. Or maybe it wasn’t the poison that killed him at all. Maybe the poison was something the killer used to distract the police from how Wentworth was really killed.
My mind wondered in circles while I made tea in my kitchen. I hadn’t seen Jasper since our “quick drinks” date. I hadn’t seen Ian either. Heat rushed up my cheeks at the memory of seeing him kiss Lana. How could I think he might like me? What a mess.
“Here you are,” Penny said as she sailed into the kitchen. “I’m hearing all kinds of rumors about what happened after the show. You need to dish, now!”
“I saw you at the show.” I got up and took out a teacup for her. Luckily, I had a pot of tea ready. “You were with Evie. So have you chosen Evie over Rachel?”
“Oh gosh no,” she said with a laugh and sat down at the table. I put the cup of tea in front of her and a small plate of cookies.
“No cookies for me, thanks,” she said.
“What are you afraid I might have poisoned them?”
“Is that what happened to Butterbottom?” Penny poured two teaspoons full of sugar into her cup of tea.
“That is what Detective Chief Inspector Garrote seems to think,” I said. “Something about finding traces of the same poison that took out Wentworth.”
“Egad!” Penny exclaimed. “They didn’t find any on you, did they?”
“No, Agnes and I watched our things like hawks. The funny part is the poison made Chef sick after the competition. It’s almost as if it were an afterthought.”
“Huh, did they find the poison in the pies chef made?”
“They must not have,” I said. “The judges didn’t get sick.”
“Maybe it was in the tea chef drank after.”
“It was warm outside under all those lights. I wonder if he drank enough water.”
“An Englishman drinks tea first and foremost,” Penny said. “They could have spiked his tea. Do you know what the poison was?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “And I’m glad I don’t, because that would only make DCI Garrote more suspicious o
f me.”
“Why would he be suspicious of you?”
“Because Butterbottom and I were in the finals.”
“But Chef didn’t get poisoned until it was all over.”
“That’s what I said. He didn’t pose any threat or risk to me afterwards. Why would I or anyone poison him?”
“Maybe you want to take over his kitchen for a few days,” Penny said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“Oh stop, that was never on my mind.”
“But he was able to take over your kitchen for a meal after Wentworth was murdered.”
“That might be true,” I said, “But Chef was out of the country then, so it wasn’t even a plus for him. I mean, today the duchess cooked for her family. How would poisoning Butterbottom help me?”
“You do make a good point,” Penny said. “I wish I knew what the poison was. Then we could try to figure out who the killer is. Who did you see at the competition today?”
“There were so many people coming and going,” I said. “I was focused on ensuring none of my food was poisoned. I didn’t want that to get on the evening news. I would be fired for sure. In fact, that’s a good reason not to poison Chef—it only points a suspicious finger back at me. Someone is trying to frame me.”
“But who? And why? Are you sure you didn’t see anyone you know?”
“I saw you and Evie,” I said. “But I hardly think either one of you could have gotten close enough to poison chef.” I looked at Penny. “You don’t particularly seem like a killer to me.”
Penny put her hands up. “I’m on your side. I’ve been helping you investigate. Why would I try to frame you?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And I don’t know Evie well enough for her to frame me. Where does she work again?”
“Evie is Princess Anne’s administrator.”
“Is she still having an affair with Chef Wright?” I had to ask. “I mean, even knowing that Rachel also slept with him?”
“Evie is crazy in love with the man,” Penny said. “I wish I could say all of this changed her mind.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No,” she said. “If nothing else it spurred her to want to be even closer to him. She told me that he promised to leave his wife for her.”
“Classic,” I said.
“Right?” Penny sipped her tea. She eyed the plate of cookies. “Okay, I’ll have a biscuit.”
I glanced at the clock. It was midnight. “It’s late and I have to get up early.” I stood, then stopped. “Wait, it’s Saturday night, er, Sunday now I guess. Why aren’t you out at a club having fun?”
Penny shrugged. “I need a break from Veronica and all that.”
I narrowed my eyes and put my hand on her forehead. “Are you getting sick?”
Penny laughed and pushed my hand away. “No.”
“Then what is it?” I studied her for a moment. “Wait, you started dating someone, didn’t you? Someone who works on Saturday, maybe?”
A blush ran up Penny’s cheeks.
“Who is it?”
“No one you know,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t tell. It’s still too early.”
I sat down. “Oh no you don’t. Dish.”
“You didn’t dish about your date with Jasper.”
“How did you know about that?”
“There are no secrets in the palace,” Penny said.
“Except yours. Please at least give me a hint. Is he royal or one of the employees?”
“Oh, gosh, no, not royal,” Penny said. “I’m too far outside of their set. But he is pretty important.”
“Of course he is. Or he wouldn’t have caught your eye. Now who is he?”
“I’m going to keep this one to myself for a while, if you don’t mind.”
I frowned. “Fine. You spent the day with Evie. Have she and Rachel reconciled yet?”
“Oh, gosh, no, that isn’t going to happen,” Penny said. “Evie really is possessive of Chef Wright.”
“What about Rachel? Don’t tell me she is still with Chef Wright, too.”
“Oh, no, no,” Penny said. “Rachel said that it’s very clear that Chef Wright is not going to leave his wife. She’s looking for someone who is going to concentrate only on her.”
“So why not tell Evie that?”
“Because she is upset and wants to keep Evie angry as payback.”
“Some friendship,” I said. “Just so you know, I didn’t want to talk about my quick drinks date with Jasper because I didn’t know how it was going to work out.”
“And how did it work out?” She asked as we placed the dishes in the dishwasher and left the kitchen.
“Not so good,” I said as we climbed the stairs. “He asked if I’m only dating him because Ian won’t date me.”
“Ouch.”
“I know, right? I think we recovered from it, but I’m not sure. Sometimes I overthink things.”
“Unless it’s true,” Penny gave me the side eye. “Do you have feelings for Ian?”
“I don’t know the man well enough to have feelings,” I said as we entered our hall. “Besides, I went to see him last night to inform him of my entry in the competition.”
“And?” She asked. “Did he do something?
“He didn’t do a thing,” I said. “Except kiss a beautiful woman named Lana in his office. It’s clear they are in love. He couldn’t keep his hands off her.”
“That’s right,” she said and stopped at her door. “I hear he has a girl in Brighton.”
“Well, there you have it. Dating Ian is out of the question.”
“Are you sure there isn’t a question?” Penny asked and raised her eyebrow.
“The only question I have is why I’m being framed as a poisoner.”
Chapter 17
Sunday started off well with Sunday brunch for the family. Agnes had the day off and I took the trays up to the family’s dining room.
“Oh, Chef,” the duchess stepped in as I handed off the plates. “Do come in for a moment.”
I stepped into the room. Staff had already set the table up. The dishes would be served on the sideboard. The family was small but we kept with tradition. The dining room smelled of coffee and sausages and my famous cinnamon rolls.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” I asked.
She smiled at me. She wore close-fitting jeans and a striped three-quarter length T-shirt. Her bouncy hair was down around her shoulders. It struck me how thin she was. No wonder designers loved to dress her.
“First off, I wanted to say congratulations for coming in second yesterday at the bake-off.”
I felt the heat of a blush rush up my cheeks. “Thank you. Thank you for sponsoring my entry.”
“Of course,” she said. “Children’s charities are one of our biggest concerns.” She paused. “I also wanted to thank you for the wonderful job you did at the bridal shower. I know I can count on you to go above and beyond your duties.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I understand there have been some bumps in the road since you have been here. I certainly hope you won’t let anything drive you away.” She sent me a soft smile. “William loves your pastries.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said. “I won’t.”
“Good,” she said. The sounds of children running down the hall echoed throughout the elegant surrounds. “Have a good day.”
“You, too,” I hurried out the side door of the dining room. The butler had returned my empty cart to the hallway. The servants’ halls snaked in and around most of the main living areas. They were there to keep us out of sight so that the family could live their lives discretely.
I glanced up as I stopped at the elevator door. There were cameras in the halls. That was to keep us and the royals safe. Somewhere on the other side of the camera, Ian and his men ensured as little as possible disturbed the occupants.
It had to be difficult living a life where you were always in the public eye, even when you were in your own home.
*
“Garrote was wrong,” Penny said gleefully as she sailed into my kitchen.
It was just after I had served dinner and I was busy doing dishes. “How was he wrong?”
Penny grabbed a mug from the cupboard, tossed a tea bag into it, poured hot water in her cup, and sat down by the table. “The poison that made Butterbottom sick was not the same thing that killed Wentworth Uleman.”
“How do you know that?” I asked as I rinsed dishes.
“The news reporters said that Wentworth died of cyanide poisoning.”
“Okay?”
“And Butterbottom and his crew were poisoned with isopropyl alcohol.”
“Wait—so it wasn’t the same killer?” I finished rinsing the last dish before grabbing my own cup of tea and sitting next to her.
“No, they think it could still be the same killer or it could be a copycat.” Penny sipped her tea with an animated her expression. “Most likely whoever poisoned Chef couldn’t get their hands on any more cyanide and turned to something more readily available.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “So we have two potential killers running around trying to frame me?”
“If there is a copycat, I don’t think they were trying to frame you or they would have made sure CID found traces of the poison in your possession.”
“So why poison Butterbottom?”
“That certainly is a good question,” she sipped her tea.
“Except no one knew what poisoned Wentworth until today’s newscast, right?”
“They might have guessed wrong,” Penny shrugged.
“Or the killer only had a little cyanide and had to change poisons.” I tapped my finger on my chin. “So why did DCI Garrote ask me if I’ve been around garden or kitchen chemicals?”
“Maybe he hadn’t gotten the report yet,” Penny mused.
“Here’s my big question. How do you get cyanide to poison someone? I mean isn’t it illegal?”
“Let’s find out.” Penny grabbed her smartphone and did a search. I picked up my smartphone and started searching as well. “Oh, they can make it from peach pits and cherry pits and such.”
