Bon Bon Voyage
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1 - The Gift
Chapter 2 - “A Frigging Cruise?”
Chapter 3 - “Not My Mother-in-Law!”
Chapter 4 - All Aboard
Chapter 5 - The Owner’s Suite
Chapter 6 - “Bon Voyage and Happy Mother’s Day”
Chapter 7 - The Captain’s Champagne Reception
Chapter 8 - At the Doctor’s Table
Chapter 9 - In Crew Quarters
Chapter 10 - A Visit from the Ombudslady
Chapter 11 - Boutique Clothes— Culinary Miscues
Chapter 12 - Touring the “Onboard Amenities”
Chapter 13 - Dinner with Embarrassing Friends
Chapter 14 - Entertainment at Sea
Chapter 15 - Uninvited Down Below
Chapter 16 - Off the Coast of Morocco
Chapter 17 - “Hitler in a White Dress”
Chapter 18 - Where is Mrs. Gross?
Chapter 19 - Barbary Apes and Bad News
Chapter 20 - The Duty to Investigate
Chapter 21 - Searching by Telephone and Internet
Chapter 22 - The Lone Detective
Chapter 23 - Destination—the Canary Islands
Chapter 24 - Las Palmas
Chapter 25 - Not Lamb!
Chapter 26 - The Influence of Superb “Mice”
Chapter 27 - Hijacked by Night
Chapter 28 - A Groggy Awakening on a Bad Day
Chapter 29 - Morning Discoveries of an Unfortunate Kind
Chapter 30 - More Discoveries of an Unfortunate Kind
Chapter 31 - Carolyn Goes Missing
Chapter 32 - A Knife in Time
Chapter 33 - Carolyn, Lost and Found
Chapter 34 - A New Identity
Chapter 35 - Rescue at Sea
Chapter 36 - Desperate Strategies
Chapter 37 - The Counterconspiracy
Chapter 38 - A Word with the Chef, Please
Chapter 39 - Negotiations Pan Out
Chapter 40 - Preparations
Chapter 41 - Early Recruiting
Chapter 42 - The Bridge Tournament, Round One
Chapter 43 - The Bridge Tournament, Round Two
Chapter 44 - Night Maneuvers
Chapter 45 - Three to Go
Chapter 46 - Early Morning Discoveries
Chapter 47 - An International Incident
Chapter 48 - A Mother’s Day to Remember
Chapter 49 - The Rescue of the Bountiful Feast
Dessert Recipe Index
Praise for the delectable Culinary Mysteries by Nancy Fairbanks . . .
“A clever, fast-paced tale sure to satisfy the cravings of both gourmands and mystery buffs. Food columnist Carolyn Blue is a confident and witty detective with a taste for good food and an eye for murderous detail. A literate, deliciously well-written mystery.” —Earlene Fowler
“Not your average who-done-it . . . Extremely funny . . . A rollicking good time.” —Romance Reviews Today
“Nancy Fairbanks has written the best mystery of her career.” —The Best Reviews
“An entertaining amateur sleuth tale . . . Fun.”
—Painted Rock Reviews
“Fairbanks has a real gift for creating characters based in reality but just the slightest bit wacky in a slyly humorous way . . . It will tickle your funny bone as well as stimulate your appetite for good food.” —El Paso Times
“Nancy Fairbanks has whipped up the perfect blend of mystery, vivid setting, and mouthwatering foods.”
—The Mystery Reader
“Nancy Fairbanks scores again . . . a page-turner.”
—Las Cruces (NM) Sun-News
“Nancy Fairbanks writes a delicious . . . amusing amateur sleuth story.” —Midwest Book Review
“Humor, entertaining characters, and a puzzling mystery round out the mix . . . A not-to-be-missed read.”
—Roundtable Reviews
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Nancy Fairbanks
CRIME BRÛLÉE
TRUFFLED FEATHERS
DEATH À L’ORANGE
CHOCOLATE QUAKE
THE PERILS OF PAELLA
HOLY GUACAMOLE!
MOZZARELLA MOST MURDEROUS
BON BON VOYAGE
FRENCH FRIED
Anthologies
THREE-COURSE MURDER
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BON BON VOYAGE
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime trade paperback edition / April 2006
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / August 2007
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For my parents,
the late Robert S. and Ruth E. Fairbanks,
to whom I owe a wonderful childhood,
a good education both at home and at school,
and an enduring love of books, reading, and laughter.
I will love and remember them always.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to acknowledge all the delightful people we met on this cruise (which was not hijacked and actually stopped at all the fascinating places—well, almost all— on the itinerary), but especially Carolyn and Alvin Lip-man from Queens, fellow opera lovers, knowledgeable cathedral visitors, wonderful storytellers. I wish I hadn’t lost their address, and I thought of them often and fondly as I wrote this book.
Thanks also to my dear husband and travel companion; to my son Bill, who does my website; to Anne and Matthew, daughter-in-law and younger son, who tout my books to family and friends; to all those wonderful readers who e-mail me; to my good friends and members of my book clubs: Sisters in Crime, UTEP Women’s Book Club, and Bookies. I’d never find so many terrific books and authors to read and pass on to Carolyn Blue if it weren’t for the reading lists and discussions I attend monthly with these ladies. And finally, I’d like to thank Sandy Sechrest, who attended our Left Coast Crime Conference in El Paso in 2005 and for whom the ombudslady character was named.
Many thanks to my editor, Cindy Hwang, whose input on this book was particularly important. If it weren’t for Cindy, Bon Bon Voyage would have been a much different, overly weird, and totally unbelievable book, although my readers may still think it’s weird. But I can’t help that; I have a weird imagination.
Last, I’d like to acknowledge the authors of the following books, which I used for reference: Ross A. Klein, Cruise Ship Blues: The Underside of the Cruise Ship Industry; Bob Dickinson, CTC, and Andy Vladimir, Selling the Sea: An Inside Look at the Cruise Industry; James Trager, The Food Chronology; Maguelonne Toussaint-Samat (translated by Anthea Bell), History of Food; edited by Andrew Eames, updated by Suzanne Lipps, Insight Guide: Gran Canaria, Fuerteventura, Lanzarote; Bradley Mayhew and Jan Dodd, Lonely Planet: Morocco; Editorial Director Katherine Marquet, Eyewitness Travel Guides: Morocco; Annette Solystz, Timeless Places: Morocco.
NFH
1
The Gift
Carolyn
I was sitting on my patio, enjoying a warm April day in El Paso and the sight of blooming spring flowers, whose bulbs had been planted by Hector, my recently acquired gardener. Hector had looked at my yard and announced, “La señora need Hector mucho much.” He didn’t approve of my gardening skills, which had been applied reluctantly at best. After all, what did I know about desert vegetation and keeping stickery, alien weeds out of rock beds? I’d only lived in El Paso a few years.
On the table beside me was the afternoon mail—seven catalogs for things I didn’t want to buy; three offers of credit cards at 0 percent interest for short periods of time; Chemical and Engineering News, which was for Jason, who reads me interesting tidbits at dinner; my electric bill, which I’d put off looking at because I’d already started using the refrigerated air-conditioning, which is so expensive; and—I couldn’t believe it—a letter from my children.
They always e-mailed. Why were they writing? Had one or both of them flunked something? Smashed up a car? Contracted a deadly disease? Accepted or made a proposal of marriage, and the letter was an invitation to the wedding? I fingered the envelope. It was quite thick and had several stamps on it. Warily, I pried up the flap.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, MOM WITH LOVE FROM GWEN AND CHRIS
The message was pasted onto the first page with cutout newspaper letters and words, like a ransom note in a movie.
Isn’t that sweet? I thought, my eyes misting. But why were they wishing me a happy Mother’s Day in April? The event occurred in May. I scowled, remembering when Gwen had left school and flown off to meet me in Barcelona without my permission. They were up to something. That was clear.
I flipped to the second page and began to read.
Dear Mom,
We have the greatest Mother’s Day surprise for you. We saw this ad for gourmet cruises, so we wrote the company and explained that our mother was a food critic with a syndicated newspaper column on eating in different cities and that we thought they might like to comp her a cruise so she could write columns about their tremendous cuisine. Chris said they wouldn’t do it, but guess what? You and Daddy are to have the OWNER’S SUITE, all expenses paid, on the Lisbon-to-Barcelona cruise of their newest ship, the SS Bountiful Feast. I added the “SS” part, but Chris says it’s probably wrong.
You leave before Mother’s Day and get back afterward, visiting “exotic Spanish and North African ports,” including the Canary Islands. (See included brochures and letter from the company.) You do have to pay your own airfare, but wait til you see the pictures of the food and rooms. And it’s not one of those huge floating hotels, although it does have a spa and other stuff like that. Only 200 passengers with lots and lots of crewmembers to take care of your every need.
And don’t worry about Chris and me. I’m staying here to do a summer play and will join you in New York when it’s over.
Hi Mom. This is Chris. As you know, I’ll be at MIT doing research with that friend of Dad’s, but I’ll be back to the New York apartment on weekends. You can just put up a cot for me. Gwen is promising me dates with glamorous actresses from that off-Broadway theater she’s working for. Hope you and Dad like the surprise. It’s for Father’s Day, too. I think we got the deal because the “owner’s suite” costs a fortune, and they couldn’t find anyone rich enough to take it. It’s got two bedrooms, two baths, and a sitting room where you can give parties. You should write them as soon as possible to accept, just in case someone actually offers to pay for it.
Love and happy parents’ days,
Gwen and Chris
Marveling at the ingenuity and thoughtfulness of my children, I looked over the pamphlets. The cruise looked absolutely wonderful—pretty bedrooms, small but nice bathrooms (one even had a tub), balconies, gorgeous public areas, a well-stocked library, and a computer room with Internet access (Jason would like that, and it would be convenient for me, too. I could send columns from the ship). The pictures of the dining room and the sample menus excited all my culinary taste buds. There was even a warm letter from the cruise company saying that they sincerely hoped I would accept their offer because they were very proud of their gourmet chef and his wonderful cuisine on the Bountiful Feast.
Next I looked at the itinerary. Lisbon, Gibraltar, Tangier, Casablanca, Gran Canaria, Tenerife, and a delightful assortment of Spanish ports on the way back to Barcelona—all kinds of lovely places to which I’d never been, except for Barcelona. Perhaps we could go early and spend some time in Lisbon, although, of course, we’d have to pay for that. But since the cruise itself was free, we could certainly afford to enjoy a stay in Lisbon.
The only problem I anticipated was the time constriction. April was drawing to a close, May almost upon me, and the cruise began in May, before Mother’s Day. How would I ever finish the research I like to do for a trip? The history of so many cities. Places so diverse. And the culinary reading. I hated the idea of going on a wonderful trip quite unprepared. Not that I’d consider missing such an opportunity. The ship did have a library. And a computer room. The Internet would probably be a source of information, although time spent on the Internet would be time taken away from the adventures of the cruise. Oh, well, I’d worry about it later.
I picked up the telephone I’d brought out to the patio and speed-dialed Jason at the university. “You’ll never guess what our wonderful children have given us for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day,” I said, and went on to describe, with great enthusiasm, our virtually free vacation.
There was a moment of sil
ence at Jason’s end of the line, and then he said, “I can’t go.”
I was stunned. How could my husband even think of turning down such an opportunity? A free opportunity! Jason is so thrifty. Surely, he was teasing. “Of course you can,” I retorted. “How could you not?”
“I have a meeting,” he replied calmly.
“Well, surely you can skip one meeting, Jason.” I fought down my disappointment with a dash of irritation. “When you have to go to a meeting, I don’t tell you I have something else to do.”
“You usually don’t have anything else to do, Carolyn,” he replied. “And I really can’t skip this conference. I’m an invited speaker, and I’m responsible for one of the tracks.”
“I haven’t heard anything about a meeting,” I muttered.
“Well, it’s in Canada, out in the middle of the plains. It didn’t occur to me that you’d be interested since it’s probably not a place famed for its gourmet food. There aren’t even any activities for accompanying persons.”
“And you’d rather go there than on a wonderful cruise? What are the meeting dates?”
Jason told me and remarked that although he’d be free after the meeting, we couldn’t very well try to catch the cruise out in the Atlantic Ocean, which was probably where the ship would be, coming or going from the Canary Islands.