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Murder Ala Mode

Page 5

by Constance Barker


  He gave me his very charming smile again. Then he leaned over and whispered the name of the Lord Feffelmeyer’s killer in my ear.

  “Yes. That’s correct, Professor.”

  I wandered off, lost in my thoughts when Chef JP came out of the kitchen again.

  “Miss Howard, the kitchen is cleaned up, and Smoke is putting away all the unused food. Is there anything else you need help with?”

  “No, JP. You’ve done a terrific job. I appreciate your help and your professionalism.”

  “Any time,” he said, taking the white kerchief off from around his neck and undoing the top button. “I’ll just pour myself a soft drink and wait at the counter for the Sheriff to interview me, if that’s all right.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Deloris said, walking behind the counter to the soda machine. “This is my counter and my soda machine. You just sit down, and I’ll bring it to you.”

  JP somehow seemed to understand Deloris’s cantankerous style – maybe because he thought she was still in character from the play – and sat down while she brought him a beverage.

  I went back to my seat at the counter when something occurred to me. JP’s top button on his chef coat was not hanging by a thread now, as it had been earlier.

  “JP.” I leaned on the counter. JP was just two stools away. “Where’s your duffel bag with your uniforms? Did you change? I noticed your top button is no longer loose.”

  “I tossed my bag on the shelf under the stainless-steel prep table, by the big kettles, Miss Howard. And yeah, that button fell off shortly after you noticed it. I changed right after you brought the snacks upstairs for the ladies.”

  “OK. Just wondering. Thanks.”

  Just then, Smoke stuck his head out of the kitchen doors. “Hey, Mercy, will you take a look at something for me?”

  “Sure, Smoke.”

  He had about a dozen Cornish game hens lined up on the prep table.

  “These here are the ones that were already prepared for the people who wanted their money back instead of having the meal packed to take out.”

  “OK. And…?”

  “Well, they’re all cooked, and we can’t warm them over and sell them as a fancy dish tomorrow.”

  “Especially since there’s no way we’ll be allowed to open tomorrow. Not that I’d open the place anyway.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think about that. It’s expensive stuff to make into soup.”

  “Why don’t you put them in the cooler, and then tomorrow you can warm them and take them to the VFW. They have a meal for the older and disabled Vets on Sunday afternoons.”

  “Good idea. What about the prime rib? There’s about 8 or 9 servings of that.”

  “Take a slice or two for yourself, and pack a little chicken for Deloris and a slab of prime rib for Babs. The rest is going to my house! Brody and Ruby and I will find a use for it.”

  When I walked back into the dining room, Brody was holding up a clear plastic bag with a large bloody knife with a white wood handle inside.

  “Who does this belong to?” he asked, and turned his head to me when I entered the room. “Mercy, is this Smoke’s chef ‘s knife?”

  “It’s mine, Sheriff,” JP said, standing up from his seat at the counter. “My God – that’s my knife!”

  “Do you always bring a horror-movie knife with you when you go out…Chef JP?”

  “Why, yes, of course, when I go out to work. I’m a chef.”

  Brody looked skeptical, but then Smoke came out of the swinging doors.

  “That’s right, Sheriff. Every chef always carries his own set of knives, or at least his chef’s knife, when he goes to work in any kitchen.”

  “That is true, Brody,” I added.

  Brody lowered and shook his head. “Still seems a little suspicious that you brought the murder weapon with you. Where was it during the play?”

  “Why, it was still in the duffel bag I brought with me. Smoke was doing the big cuts on the loin, so I just used my boning knife to trim the two slabs.”

  “Show me.”

  “Of course.”

  JP walked hastily through the swinging doors, which flew back causing Smoke to jump out of the way. He came back out empty-handed.

  “I – I don’t understand. I put it under the prep table. I’m sure of it.”

  A moment later, Dirk came out from behind the green curtain with a black leather duffel.

  “Is this it? I could see it behind the curtain from where I was sitting.”

  One of the crime scene investigators stood up quickly and grabbed the bag with his gloved hands. “Don’t touch that! Don’t touch anything!” he said quite loudly, and a little angrily. “We haven’t checked out any of the evidence behind the curtain yet.”

  Dirk’s face turned bright red, and it looked as though he might start crying again. “I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered. “I was just trying to help.”

  Brody looked a little disgusted too.

  “Can you open it up, Ed?” he asked the investigator.

  The investigator handled the bag carefully by the corners and set it down on a 3-foot square of plastic sheeting that another lab-coat-clad worker laid out for him. He carefully hooked the eye of the zipper with a tool that looked like a hooked dental instrument and pulled it across the bag.

  He removed a carrying case for a set of knives that was lying across the top of the contents. It was black vinyl with a clear plastic front and slots for five or six different knives. The largest slot was conspicuously empty.

  “That was rolled up and tied after I cleaned my boning knife and put it back. I would never leave it open like that,” JP said.

  No one responded.

  Beneath the knife set was a white cloth crumpled into a ball – JP’s other chef coat with the missing button. Ed pulled it out and stood as he held it by the two shoulders. We all gasped as we saw the back of the coat. It was spattered with bright red blood. All eyes turned to JP.

  “I – I…” he stammered. “There was nothing on the coat when I put it back in the bag – and I folded it neatly. It was clean. I would never hurt Randi. I loved her! And I never took the bag out of the kitchen. I don’t even know how it got in here!”

  After a moment of silence, Deloris was the first to speak. “You might want to stop talking now, Chef.”

  Brody nodded at Stan, and the Deputy walked over to JP and cuffed him as he recited the Miranda warning to him.

  “Do you understand your rights?” Stan asked him.

  JP nodded in a zombie-like manner and turned his glassy stare toward me as Stan led him to the door.

  “I didn’t do this, Miss Howard. I didn’t do this.”

  He looked pathetic and devastated, tears now starting to overflow his weary eyelids. I patted him on the back as he was escorted out the door. Did I just comfort a killer?

  “Folks,” Brody said in his authoritative voice, “this does not mean that the rest of you are off the hook. We are acting with reason and responsibility based on circumstantial evidence. But the duffel bag was reasonably accessible to a lot of people, and our questioning will continue.”

  He motioned for Professor Reggie Zorn to join him at the front booth, and I sat at the counter with Dig Duggery again. My head was spinning from the whirlwind of events and thoughts.

  “So, is that it, Professor Duggery? Could it be that simple?”

  “Yes, it could be, Mercy. Crimes by amateurs are often not planned out very well, and the perpetrator will sometimes stupidly leave a trail of evidence that leads to his door.”

  His brow was furrowed as he seemed to contemplate the evidence we had just seen.

  “But…?” I asked. “You don’t seem convinced.”

  “Oh, the evidence is quite convincing, of course.”

  “So, did Chef JP do it?”

  Duggery chuckled. “Well, if this were an Agatha Christie novel or an episode of Castle, I would say that that this exonerates him completely.”

  I gave hi
m a puzzled look.

  “You know what I mean, Mercy. The first suspect to have the finger pointed at him is never the killer in good fiction. But in real life, sometimes the first and easy answer is correct.”

  “That’s true. But there are also times when the killer frames himself if he’s planned a way to get out of the frame-up, and then after we are sure he’s innocent, he turns out to be the killer after all.”

  “Quite so. But I doubt we’re dealing with a mastermind here, Mercy. This was a crime of passion. Brutal, bloody hatred. Somebody really wanted that girl to suffer and die painfully. Find the motive, and you’ve found your killer.”

  Chapter Six

  The sun was poking its head above the horizon by the time everyone had left the diner, and Brody and I were the last ones out. I brought the ample remainder of the prime rib plus some eggs and bacon for breakfast. I knew my refrigerator at home was almost empty.

  It pained me to see the police tape around my diner and to think of the horror that had occurred inside. It still felt unreal, like a dream or a bad movie. But it was real.

  Brody could hardly keep his eyes open, and I insisted that he stay the night at my place. I could have used a little intimacy, but all my man needed was some sleep.

  “Wakey, wakey, Sheriff,” I said, carrying a tray of hot food into the bedroom for him.”

  He rolled onto his back and slowly sat up as I sat the bed tray across his lap and plumped all four pillows behind him.

  “Mmm, smells great,” he said, rubbing his eyes and trying to regain full consciousness, “but where’s my…”

  “Coffee?” a perky voice asked. Ruby followed me in with a large mug and set it on his tray. “Seven sugars and a shot of whiskey, just the way you like it!” she added with a giggle.

  Brody gave her an extended stink-eye.

  “Okay, Mr. Sheriff. It’s black. No cream, no sugar, no whiskey.”

  Brody smiled and nodded. “That’s better. That’s my girl.” He blew on it and immediately took a sip, along with a lot of air to cool it down. “Ahhh.”

  I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Um…I thought I was your girl.”

  He looked at me with eyes filled with love. “Nope. You’re my lady, my lover, my woman, my…”

  He didn’t finish, but he got a very curious smile on his face that seemed to be hiding some kind of secret. But it was wonderful to hear him say words like that to me. I got a little tingly inside, like our love was going to an even higher level.

  “Breakfast in bed and my two favorite women. Can’t ask for more than that.” He put a forkful of scrambled eggs on half a slice of buttered toast and stuffed it in his mouth along with a whole slice of bacon.

  “Well, it’s not exactly breakfast in bed, Brody,” Ruby told him. “It's more like lunch. It’s already noon.”

  “Oh! Day’s a wastin’. I’d better eat and jump in the shower. We’ve got a crime to solve. It didn’t take him long to put away the rest of the breakfast.

  “I can wash your back for you, if you’d like, Brody,” I said with a twinkle in my eye.

  “Oh, man. You are killing me, Mercy. But I’ve got to meet Sylvia and the CSI team at the lab in an hour.”

  I put on my disappointed, pouty face.

  “But tonight I’m all yours, Mercy. Meet me for dinner at Rocco’s in Calhoun. Early – say, five o’clock?”

  “We always go to Rocco’s.”

  “The Country Club, then.”

  I saw him kind of wince as the words slipped out. The Torch Grille at the Country Club was my favorite place, but a little on the expensive side.

  “Rocco’s is fine, Dear.”

  “Nope,” He got out of bed with just his boxers on, and Ruby turned away. “I promised you the Country Club. You’re my best girl, and that’s where I’m taking you.” He winked, kissed my cheek and turned for the shower.

  “Oh, so now I’m your girl. I thought I was your lady, your woman.”

  And I hadn’t forgotten that he also said I was his lover.

  He gave me an eye roll and tapped my chin with his knuckles. “To the moon, Alice. You’re my everything.”

  “Even your pain in the butt?”

  “Especially that!” He gave me another quick smooch – this time on the lips – and disappeared into the bathroom.

  I sighed. “There’s something about that man, Ruby. We’ve been together for over a year, and somehow things just keep getting better – at least, for me.”

  “There’s something about the two of you together, Mercy. That man is head over heels for you, sweetie.”

  “Ya think?”

  She smiled and winked. “Pretty sure.”

  “So, why…” I wanted to ask her about all the goo-goo eyes between her and Brody lately, but I knew it was nothing and I didn’t want to offend my best friend.

  “Why what, Mercy?”

  “Never mind.”

  With the diner still a crime scene and closed for the foreseeable future, I decided to do some shopping in Calhoun, the county seat seven miles away. The Sheriff’s office, crime lab, and other county offices were all there too. After such a horrible day, I thought that maybe a new dress for my date with Brody tonight might help boost my spirits.

  I wasn’t in the mood for glamour, so I found a nice blue-and-white cotton sundress with narrow shoulder straps and a nice swirly pattern. It made me feel pretty and like a girl without the cares and realities that came with adulthood. I wore it out of the department store and headed to the McLean County Department of Health building, which housed the morgue and crime lab. I hoped Brody might still be there.

  “Knock, knock!” I said, tapping the slightly-open door at the end of the hall and poking my head into the morgue.

  “Mercy!” Sylvia replied. “Come in, come in. Brody is still next door in the lab.”

  You had to go through the coroner’s area to get to the small lab.

  “Hi, Dr. Chambers. I didn’t expect to see you here on a Sunday.”

  “Well, I do have a body to autopsy, you know.”

  “Oh, was there another death? Something suspicious?”

  “Oh, no. Just the murder victim from your diner.”

  She must have seen me grimace a little bit at the way she phrased it.

  “I mean, you know, the girl from the play. Miss Taylor. Her family said their goodbyes at the hospital a few hours ago, and then she was brought here. Anyway, the hospital is all done with her, and she’s in drawer number four now. She saved or improved the lives of five people overnight – a heart, two kidneys, a liver, and corneas. All successful operations.”

  “Well, that is good news. Randi’s family must be devastated, though.”

  Sylvia just gave me a morose smile and half a nod.

  “I’m going to open her up soon. You’re welcome to observe if you like, Mercy.”

  “Well, I’m not sure.” As an ER nurse, I had assisted and observed Sylvia’s autopsies on a few occasions. “I mean, she’s so young, and I actually watched her die right in front of me, Sylvia…”

  “You don’t have to explain, Mercy. Josh will be here soon to assist me – Dr. Parker.”

  “Have…have you…”

  “I did look at her at the scene, with the murder weapon still in her throat, and again when she arrived here. All I can say so far is that it appears the stab wound was applied with great force, just to the left of her cervical spine, and the blade followed a transverse path, exiting on the right-front side of her throat.”

  “I see. So that was where it pierced her carotid artery, causing her to quickly bleed out.”

  “I don’t think so, Mercy.”

  I gave her an inquisitive look. “What do you mean? I thought…”

  “Yes, her carotid was completely severed. I won’t know for sure until I’ve completed the autopsy, but I don’t think the artery was cut when the blade entered her neck. My hunch is, that didn’t happen until the large blade was twisted, counterclockwise from t
he entry position, nearly 180 degrees. That is what destroyed the blood vessel.”

  “Oh, my God! That’s horrifying! It seems that Professor Duggery was right.”

  “Professor Duggery?”

  “Well, yes. He’s an old British criminologist who was at the play last night.”

  “Interesting.”

  “He said that this was a crime of brutal passion, and whoever did it wanted Randi to suffer a painful death.”

  “Mercy! What a surprise!”

  Brody came out of the lab and walked over to give me a hug. He seemed happy to see me. Only Brody could make a morgue with a dead body ten feet away seem romantic.

  “What brings you here, babe?”

  “I missed the smell of formaldehyde.”

  “Well, then you came to the right place!”

  “It’s not formaldehyde,” Sylvia whispered loudly, like she thought she might be disturbing us, and then walked to the stainless-steel table a few feet away.

  “Did you learn anything from the lab results, Brody?”

  “A few things, yeah. Let’s have lunch and talk about it.”

  “Lunch? Brody, you had a huge breakfast three hours ago, and we’re going to the Torch for dinner at 5:00.”

  “Right. Okay, so Follow me to my office. I have to do a quick report. And then we’ll stop by my place so I can change for our date. That’ll leave an hour for us to smooch and get to the Country Club.”

  “Or we can just go to the Country Club early. I just had coffee and toast for breakfast.”

  “Deal!” His eyes looked me up and down for a while. “And, by the way, Mercy, you look especially beautiful today. Is that a new dress? I don’t recall seeing it before.”

  Wow, my guy actually noticed my new dress!

  “Ahem.” Sylvia cleared her throat to get my attention and then tapped her right shoulder.

  The price tag was still attached to the strap of my dress. I gave him a stern face and pulled it off.

  “Oh, I didn’t even see that,” he lied, taking the tag from my hand. “Forty dollars! You’re not going to be one of those high-maintenance…uh…um, you know, girlfriends, are you, Mercy?”

  That didn’t sit well with me, and I saw Sylvia grab her head with both hands.

 

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