Ty shrugged. ‘People with grievances can’t help mouthing off if they think they have a captive audience, no matter how hostile.’
‘Well, I can see he’s got serious issues with Marcel. First there’s the failed restaurant which left him broke, his reputation in tatters. Then losing out on the TV show. If he’d got that it would have bolstered his bank balance and got him back in the public eye. Losing it would have hurt; but losing to Marcel, his former friend and deadly rival…yeah, perhaps it would have made him desperate enough to try and get even.’ Alexi scowled. ‘I really wish I could see a way for him to have done it.’
‘I can’t think how he could have pulled it off either, unless your theory about Fuller’s son is on the money. David could have done his research when he heard Marcel had got the starring role and was working from here. There’s stuff all over the net about Fuller and it wouldn’t be hard to figure out his son must have one hell of a grievance against this place.’ Ty shrugged. ‘I know it’s a reach, but stranger things have been known to happen. Fuller’s son and this David character are both hurting financially and out for revenge. Compelling motives. Anyway, we’ve got sod all else to chase up at the moment.’
It surprised Ty how easy it was to find people’s personal details online. They soon had all the information they needed. David Rowe was currently working the party scene, catering for society events from his home kitchen, the address of which he obligingly plastered all over his website. It was a big come-down from being a celebrity chef with his own restaurant, Ty thought. No wonder he was so bitter.
‘He lives in Kensal Green,’ Ty said. ‘Come on, we can be there in a little over an hour at this time of day.’
Cosmo, who’d followed them upstairs and was curled up on the window seat, stirred himself, like he knew a car journey was in the offing. He followed them back down and was first out the front door. No way was he being left behind. Toby whined but knew better than to follow. Laughing at their symbiotic relationship, Alexi climbed into the passenger seat of Ty’s car and closed her eyes as he reversed out of his parking space.
‘Tired?’ he asked.
‘Not sleeping well.’ She opened her eyes again. ‘I’m worried, Ty, and I feel guilty. I persuaded Drew and Cheryl to expand, to be more ambitious. What if I’ve cost them their business, to say nothing of their reputation?’
‘Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong.’ He removed one hand from the wheel and placed it on her thigh. ‘You were trying to help. You have helped. Marcel didn’t do this and we’ll prove it, one way or the other.’
‘Thanks, that’s what I needed to hear.’
‘My pleasure. And I’m pretty good value because if your insomnia continues, I have a solution for that problem, too.’
‘I’ll just bet you do.’ Alexi sent him a wry smile but didn’t worry too much when Ty left his hand on her thigh.
Once Ty hit the motorway, the motion of the car lulled her to sleep. Ty cast frequent sideways glances at her as he drove, liking what he saw, hoping she would decide to take their relationship further. No pressure. He could be a patient man when he needed to be and Alexi was worth exercising patience for.
She jerked awake again as they hit the outskirts of London and the car stopped and started in the heavy traffic.
‘Sorry,’ she said, yawning and stretching her arms above her head. ‘Not very good company, am I?’
‘You’ll do.’ He listened to the disembodied voice issuing instructions from his GPS and took a left turn. ‘This is the road.’
‘What if he’s not home?’
‘I’m banking on the fact that he will be. If he caters evening parties he’d have to do the prep in the afternoons. I’d rather take the chance anyway than give him advance warning of our coming. Besides, if he knows beforehand that we’re connected to Marcel he might not agree to see us. If we’re on his doorstep it’ll be harder to get rid of us.’ He slowed, looking for a parking spot. ‘That’s his,’ he said, nodding towards a nondescript semi in a dreary residential road.
Cosmo remained in the car, comfortably sprawled across the back seat, while Ty and Alexi traipsed up the front path and rang the doorbell.
‘About damned time.’ A short man with dark hair and attitude, wearing an enveloping white apron, yanked the door open. ‘I expect you…who the hell are you?’
‘Not who you were expecting, obviously,’ Alexi replied. ‘You must be David Rowe. I’m Alexi Ellis. This is Tyler Maddox. We wondered if you could spare us a moment.’
‘Yeah, I’m Rowe. What’s this about?’ David asked suspiciously.
‘Marcel Gasquet.’
David narrowed his eyes. ‘I have absolutely nothing to say about that bastard.’
He tried to shut the door but he was no match for Ty’s arm strength.
‘Even if he’s suspected of murder?’
A broad smile broke across David’s face. ‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.’ He opened the door wider. ‘Since you’re not my suppliers and since I can’t get on with anything until that fucking lamb arrives, you might as well come in.’
Alexi and Ty followed David directly into a small lounge. An open archway led to the back of the house, the entirety of which had been converted into a huge professional kitchen. Two young men wearing chef’s whites were working away at one side.
‘Take a break, guys,’ David said.
They both pulled packets of cigarettes from their pockets and disappeared without a word.
‘Okay, so how can I help you to convict the weasel?’ David asked, leaning against an island and folding his arms across his chest.
‘How did you two get to be so antagonistic?’ Ty already knew but wanted to see what spin David put on it. ‘I gather you ran a restaurant together and I know it failed but surely that’s—’
‘It didn’t fail, or wouldn’t have if Marcel had been prepared to compromise.’ David’s entire body vibrated with anger. It was clearly still a very sore subject. ‘Everything had to be on his terms. I’m as good a chef as him but he would never accept any of my suggestions because he knew better.’
Ty nodded, going for a sympathetic look. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t possible for two leaders to…well, share the lead.’
‘We discussed that at length. Had it all figured out. We were financially committed to that place but Marcel didn’t stick to his side of the bargain, thinking he was better than me, arguing that the customers wanted his dishes, not mine. Saying I played it too safe, blah, blah. Who made him the boss? Anyway, now I’m reduced to this.’ He scowled as he waved his arm around the large kitchen with its gleaming stainless steel appliances and plethora of utensils hanging neatly from ceiling racks. ‘My reputation will never recover and that sod has to pay.’
‘Did he actually break the terms of your business agreement?’ Alexi asked.
‘My lawyers seem to think so.’ David scowled. ‘Say, who are you two anyway? What’s your interest in this?’
Ty explained their connection to Lambourn and the TV show. ‘Ah, I heard about that girl getting killed. Marcel has got quite a temper on him but even I wouldn’t have thought him capable of assassinating anything other than a soufflé.’
‘He isn’t,’ Alexi replied. ‘But someone’s trying to make it look that way.’
‘Well, it ain’t me but if you find out who it is, let me know so I can shake his hand.’
‘How did you and Marcel meet?’ Alexi asked.
‘In Paris. We’d both won positions as trainee chefs under M. Mason.’ Alexi nodded, as though she knew who David was talking about. Presumably someone with a prestigious reputation in the culinary world. Ty would take her word for it. ‘We got on well, especially since he’d grown up in France and spoke the lingo. I didn’t have a clue what people were saying most of the time so he helped me out in that respect; I’ll give him that. Anyway, we roomed together, worked and played together and decided that when the time was right, we’d run a restaurant together. Damned stupid idea
but then hindsight can be fucking infuriating. Anyway, at least I was prepared to work at it, give it my best shot and try to make it successful. All Marcel wanted was the glory.’
Ty doubted if that was true. Marcel was a tyrant in his kitchen, mainly because he expected perfection, but he didn’t think he’d try to do his partner down.
‘I hear you were under consideration as the resident chef on the show,’ Alexi said casually.
His eyes shot daggers at her. ‘Yeah briefly. Then wonder boy’s name got thrown into the ring and that was that.’
‘Did you meet with the producers?’ Ty asked.
‘We had a couple of exploratory meetings,’ David said, sounding evasive. ‘But I didn’t build my hopes up.’
‘Who did you see?’ Alexi asked. ‘And where?’
‘What is this? Twenty fucking questions?’ He threw his hands up. ‘I met a couple of suits for lunch in London, then had a second meeting at their offices. Can’t remember the names of the people involved.’
You’re lying, Ty thought. A six-week run on national prime time television was manna from heaven for someone in David’s position. Of course he remembered who he’d spoken to but he obviously wasn’t about to say. David had just elevated himself in Ty’s mind from unlikely-to-be-involved to prime suspect.
‘You didn’t file your breach of contract case against Marcel until after you lost the show,’ Ty said casually. ‘Are the two connected?’
‘Nah.’ He flapped a hand. ‘I’d spoken to the legal people weeks before but they needed to collect all the necessary facts before proceeding.’ He examined his fingernails as though he found them fascinating. ‘The timing’s nothing more than coincidence. Besides, I didn’t lose the show. You can’t lose something that didn’t belong to you in the first place. Am I pissed off that Marcel got it instead of me? You bet your fucking life I am. Salt and raw wounds spring to mind. Still, on the bright side, he’ll have enough money to settle my claim when I win in court now, won’t he?’
‘Not if this murder gets pinned on him.’
David’s eyes flashed with malice. ‘Tell you what, if that means he gets banged up and spends the next twenty years cooking sausage and mash for half the country’s prison population, then I’ll drop my case in the blink of an eye and laugh myself silly.’
‘Very charitable of you,’ Alexi said drolly.
‘Yeah well, after what he did to me, it would take a better person than I’ll ever be to feel sorry for him.’ The doorbell rang and David looked relieved. ‘That’ll be my supplies. You’ll have to go now. I’m running behind.’
‘Thanks for your time.’ Ty offered his hand, which David took.
‘Glad to have helped bury him, if that’s what I’ve done. A guy can live in hope,’ he replied, shaking Alexi’s hand and taking his time releasing it again.
‘What did you make of him?’ Alexi asked as they walked back to Ty’s car.
‘He’s bitter, resents Marcel’s success and, I’m betting, isn’t as good a chef as Marcel. Whether Marcel actually screwed him over is yet to be established but somehow I doubt it.’
‘He’s carrying a load of resentment. Jealousy, bitterness and losing face are a lethal combination.’
‘They are indeed.’ Ty fastened his seatbelt and started the engine. ‘And, for what it’s worth, I think he did meet someone at the production company who might have been persuaded to set Marcel up for him. Just don’t ask me who it was or how they managed it because I don’t have the faintest idea.’
Chapter Fifteen
By the time they got back to Hopgood House, a very pale and subdued Marcel was back in the kitchen with Cheryl and Drew. He rested his elbows on the table with his head in his hands, looking close to the edge.
‘How did it go?’ Alexi asked, patting his shoulder.
‘Talk about a fucking inquisition.’ Marcel looked up and sighed expansively. ‘They think I did it. I know they do. They’re building a case against me brick by brick, and there’s fuck all I can do to fight back.’
‘If they thought you’d done it and could prove it, they would have arrested you,’ Ty said reassuringly. ‘Nothing they have so far is sufficient to secure a conviction. Trust me on this. It’s too convenient, too circumstantial.’
‘Yeah well, it’s only a matter of time.’
Drew glanced at the clock. ‘Talking of time, the sun’s over the yardarm, more or less. Besides, you look a bit peaky, Marcel, which makes this a medical emergency.’ He pulled the cork on a bottle of decent red and handed Marcel a glass. ‘Get that inside of you, mate, and the world will seem like a rosier place.’
Drew poured more moderate measures for the rest of them, excluding Cheryl.
‘Was Ben a help?’ Ty asked.
‘Yeah.’ Bleary-eyed and morose, Marcel nodded. ‘I meant to say thanks for arranging that. At least I felt he was on my side, which is more than Grenville Scott ever was. And he stopped me from blowing a fuse at their inane questions.’
‘They have to ask,’ Ty replied. ‘And the goading is quite deliberate. That way you’re more likely to put your foot in your mouth.’
‘Or punch their lights out.’
‘You definitely needed Ben’s services, by the sound of things,’ Cheryl said, sipping at her orange juice.
‘Let’s consider what they have against you. You had sex with Juliette and have admitted it,’ Alexi said. ‘No law against that. She was in your apartment shortly before she died but left it in perfect health. She was then overheard arguing with Dakin, which makes him look like the more likely suspect.’
‘Ah, but she was apparently seen in the annexe after that, alive and well.’
Ty and Alexi jerked upright.
‘That’s the first I’ve heard of it,’ Ty said. ‘Who saw her?’
Marcel shook his head. ‘They won’t say.’
‘Doesn’t matter, though, does it,’ Ty said. ‘If she was seen by Dakin and then someone else after she left you, the chances are you’re innocent.’
‘Vickery keeps implying that I saw her with Dakin and went looking for her again later to find out what they’d been arguing about.’
‘Which you didn’t do and they can’t prove that you did,’ Ty replied. ‘So far, they’re clutching at straws. And the most convenient straw they have is you.’
‘That fucking fingerprint!’ Marcel swallowed the rest of his drink. ‘How the hell did that get there?’
‘There has to be a logical explanation,’ Cheryl said stubbornly.
‘It’s not enough for them to get the cuffs out,’ Ty assured him. ‘But it doesn’t help.’
Marcel snorted. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ He ran a hand through his hair, looking beleaguered; a shadow of the confident, forthright chef Alexi had often locked horns with over the alterations to Hopgood House. ‘Christ, how am I supposed to go on with this programme, pretending that my world isn’t falling apart?’
‘Bear in mind,’ Alexi said, ‘that there’s a killer out there. Someone we probably know and speak to every day. We need to be careful. If we get too close then…well—’
Cheryl shuddered. ‘Hell, I hadn’t thought about it that way.’
‘The killer’s probably having a grand old time of it,’ Ty told Marcel, ‘watching you squirm, which is obviously his or her intention…we’ll refer to the killer as he for the sake of argument.’
‘Very likely.’ Marcel rubbed his chin. ‘I’ve made my share of enemies but no one hates me that much.’ He suddenly looked unsure. ‘Do they?’
‘Only you know the answer to that one. All I can say is that he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of setting you up if he didn’t want to watch the fun and tell himself how clever he’d been.’
Marcel sat a little straighter and a glimmer of fire returned to his eye. ‘Then the scumbag’s in for a disappointment.’
Alexi flashed an encouraging smile. ‘That’s the spirit!’
‘We’ve just been up to town to have a c
hat with your ex-partner,’ Ty said.
Marcel’s scowl returned. ‘I’m sure he sent me his very best wishes.’
‘Well, something like that,’ Ty replied, waggling one hand back and forth.
‘I didn’t realise things had reached quite such an impasse between the two of you,’ Alexi said.
That comment merited a one-shouldered shrug. ‘He seems to think I’m to blame because our restaurant didn’t work. Truth is, it was a stupid idea in the first place. It’s impossible to have two bosses, two prima donnas if you like, and we fought about the direction we wanted to go in all the time. David wanted to stick to a tried and tested menu; I wanted to be creative. It was my creative dishes that dragged the punters in. Plus, David wanted to hide away in the kitchen and have nothing to do with the customers. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way anymore. If you want to charge the kind of prices we were getting away with, you have to sell yourself right along with your truffled noisettes. See and be seen. Schmooze with the punters.’
‘And behave badly?’ Cheryl suggested with the ghost of a smile.
‘Yeah, that too.’ Marcel’s lips quirked. ‘They kinda expect it. Blame Gordon Ramsey. He started it.’ Marcel leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. ‘The truth is, David dealt with all the paperwork; sorted out the lease and legal stuff. I don’t have the patience for all that gubbins and just signed where he told me to. But I insisted that we not take more than a year’s lease initially with the option to renew for a further two. I needed to be sure the venture would work before sinking more dosh into it. He agreed with me, then signed up for another two years without telling me.’
‘Could he do that?’ Ty asked.
‘Yeah, I trusted him with all that crap, which is the only mistake I made. He had the authority to sign on behalf of us both.’
‘Then you’re probably liable,’ Alexi said.
‘Nah, I have a series of emails between David and myself confirming in writing the stuff we’d already agreed verbally. I insisted on that.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I sensed even then that there might be trouble in paradise. Anyway I stated quite clearly that I didn’t want to extend our initial commitment until much closer to the renewal date because we were losing money. Unless we could turn that situation around it seemed pointless going on.’
The Deadline Series Boxset Page 47
