The Billionaire Chef

by Kee Patterbee

  “Clean ‘em once a month though. Never forget. You never forget how to fire. Like riding a bike. Ain’t that right, son?”

  Hymn nodded and gave a slight grin.

  Hannah interrupted. “Regardless, we need to do this.”

  “What do you plan on doing?” Hymn asked.

  “Get in. Investigate. Find out who did this. Why they did this? Who this Dahlia is?” Hannah replied. “I can tell you this. I’m sure it was deliberate.”

  “So, someone did target Elias,” Gran said, tugging at her ear.

  Hannah watched her grandmother’s particular, signature move. Now, the elder Starvling invested herself in Hannah’s proceedings.

  “I don’t understand any of this. Elias is just a chef, right?” Hymn queried. “I mean, it seems pretty obvious he got mixed up in something dangerous and almost paid for it with his life,” Hymn suggested.

  “I suppose so, but I never thought of him as being criminal by nature,” Hannah admitted. “But now, I couldn’t say. It may all be about his mushrooms.” With those words, she thought of Wexler and Ducky. Then, she recalled Madeline, and added, “It could be about something else altogether.”

  “Sweetness,” Papa Jay said, sporting a stern face and harsh tone. “Don’t let Scooby talk you into anything you’ll regret. I only got enough of a credit line on my card to bail one of you out.” He eyed Gran. “And guess which one it would be. Here’s a clue. I don’t call her Scooby.”

  Gran harrumphed. “Like I need your money, you old coot. Hannah and I can sweet talk our way out of anything.”

  “That so?” Papa Jay crossed his arms and gave an incredulous look.

  Gran leaned over and gave her husband a smooch. “You’d come get me, now wouldn’t you? Admit it.”

  Papa Jay unfurled his arms and rolled his eyes. “Guess I’d have too. For Sweetness sake.”

  A mischievous smile crept across Gran’s face. “Hah! See. I can sweet talk my way out of anything.”

  She gave Papa Jay one more quick smooch, much to Hannah and Hymn’s amusement, adding, “See you back at the hotel, and don’t get caught up with anything, Grumpus. Love you.” She looked at Hymn and winked. “Watch after the old coot for me, will you?”

  Hymn gave a quick Boy Scout salute.

  As the two exited the eatery, heading toward the hotel, the elder Starvling recounted one of her adventures. She found it akin to the case at hand. Hannah half listened as her mind drifted off to what was about to occur. Gran and she needed to get into the room as quietly and efficiently as possible. Thinking it through, she wondered if her bringing the old snoop along was such a good idea. But seeing how animated her grandmother was since she invited her along, she could not back out. So, she proceeded.

  Glancing down the street toward the hotel, Hannah noted it was well after two PM and that everything appeared normal. She was certain that the police would still have the room blocked off. If they’re worth their salt, she conceived. Now, it was just a matter of finding a way in. She needed a plausible explanation to access the room. The first thing that came to mind was to feign tears. She would pretend she was there on Janine’s behalf and they needed access to his personal items. This presented itself as a definite possibility, but if the hotel staff sent someone along with them, she would not be able to do her work. She then considered asking Ducky to help if he was working. He could get them access to the room, she imagined. Still, she wasn’t sure if he was somehow involved. If he was, he might have already altered some of the evidence. If she did find evidence while he was there with them, the situation might turn ugly. In the end, she decided bringing him into it was too risky.

  Thinking along further, Hannah decided on another plan. In part, it included seeing how the situation presented itself. This was her usual method of approach. “Listen to your gut and go with it,” Gran told her often while recounting her investigative escapades. With her along for the adventure, Hannah was certain she would approve of the plan.

  Going over her plan, Hannah considered under normal circumstances, it would have come to mind first. However, this was not normal circumstances. Elias was a friend and former boyfriend. The whole affair set her on edge, and her usual, organized self still reeled at the image of him lying atop the car.

  “Everything okay, dear?” Gran asked.

  “Fine, there’s an electronics store a few streets over. We need to make a quick stop there first.”

  Gran nodded, but did not ask why. She just followed along as the two made their way to the store. After entering, Gran stood back. She watched her granddaughter engage a nervous looking young man in some general conversation. “Turnbull,” the culinary detective said, pulling out her silky, smooth voice. She placed her hand over his, then leaned forward and whispered into his ear. His face twisted, and he bobbed his head once. He disappeared through a door behind the counter at the rear of the business. Moments later, he returned and handed Hannah a small bag. She offered him some money, but he refused. Gran heard her say, “Two weeks.”, The man agreed with a head bob. Hannah returned as she motioned Gran to follow. They exited the store and headed back in the direction of the hotel.

  As they continued, Gran studied her granddaughter, but said nothing. Sensing the elder snoop’s eyes upon her, Hannah anticipated the question and answered.

  “His name is Cody Turnbull. Second year up here for the festival, I caught him testing key code entry devices. He didn’t take anything, just opened the doors and closed them. A bit of a nerdy geek. Electronics are his thing. If it buzzes, beeps, blinks, or lights up, he’s the man for it. Brilliant at it. So rather than turn him in, I use him. Every now and again, I get stuff from him. I call him up and he sends me what I want. In return, I send him what he wants.”

  Hannah’s words intrigued Gran. “What does he want?”

  Hannah stopped and looked down in a pause. She frowned and kicked at the ground. “Pictures of me.”

  Gran’s eyes narrowed.

  “In my hat.”

  The corners of Gran’s mouth pulled in, as her eyes then opened wide.

  “Wearing Victorian dress and holding swords.” She twisted her neck and looked at Gran. “Sometimes it’s pistols.”

  Gran’s mouth fell agape. “What,” she responded with disbelief?

  “He’s into women wearing Victorian dress. I’ve sent him pictures of Cate, too.”

  “You have all your clothes on, right?”

  “Of course, everything necessary covered. Just in Victorian clothing. Always in a hat. That parts a must. Sometimes with the big sword. Sometimes holding pistols.”

  Gran’s eyes held a blank look. “Weird,” she managed in a monotone voice.

  “Who am I to judge?”

  “Don’t tell your grandfather.”

  “Not in a million years.”

  “What’d you get in exchange?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Under her breath, the elder snoop mumbled, “I remember when I could get away with something like that.”

  Hannah’s shoulder bumped her grandmother as they walked along. “Still can. Its probable Turnbull could hook you up with some people.”

  Gran smiled at the thought. “It’s probable Jayland could kill someone, in and out of prison. I’m sure he might have a thing or two to say about it.”

  The ladies made their way two blocks to the hotel. They entered into the lobby and glanced around in a casual manner as they made their way to the elevators. Not seeing the police or Ducky, they waited until the bell rang, the doors opened, and they stepped inside.

  Once the door was closed, Hannah said, “I should have already done this. We’re working against the clock if you think about it.”

  “How so?”

  “Like Papa Jay said, the person or persons who assaulted Elias could try again to make sure to finish the job.”

  Gran frowned. “You think they’d try that at the hospital? Seems rather exposed.”

  “Not if you’re desperate. Thi
nk about it. If Elias wakes up, he could identify his attacker, or he may know something they don’t want others to know.”

  The elevator dinged, and the two stepped out upon the doors opening. Given the Babel’s room was above her own, Hannah knew where to go. Even from down the hall, the yellow crime tape stood out.

  As she made her way to the hall, Hannah considered all the questions that presented themselves at the moment. There was a reason for the attack on Elias. Whether his going over the balcony was intentional or accidental, remained undetermined. Was it about his mushrooms? Or something else? Who could have done it? Of her potential suspects–Ducky, Madeline, Wexler, and Janine—only Wexler had the true physicality to pull off throwing a man from the balcony, were they to resist. Doesn’t eliminate the possibility of two people working together, she noted. Two. The word echoed through her head. Working together or hired to do so? And the most important unanswered question came to mind. Who is Dahlia?

  The last question intrigued Hannah the most. Was Dahlia indeed a ‘who’? Upon occasion, she came across the word as a female name. Ever since the so-called Black Dahlia case of 1947, seldom did anyone burden a child with the name. Considering that incident, Hannah hoped it held no connection to the one she worked. In that case, a young twenty-three-year old female named Elizabeth Short, met a gruesome demise. Murdered in Liemert Park, a district in Los Angeles. Elias and Janine both lived not too far from the area. If Hannah recalled correctly, Janine’s parents raised her there.

  The possibility of any association disturbed Hannah. She was thankful there could be another possibility. Dahlia was also the name of a plant that originated in Mexico, Central America, and in the northern reaches of South America. From this plant came a flower. Its tuberous base yielded a mocha flavored extract used in drinks. She remembered reading about it in culinary school. Was it possible Elias became involved in some kind of food exchange? Dahlias for diamonds? It seemed almost as improbable as the former association with an unsolved murder from the 1940s.

  Between the questions storming in her mind and the intrigue, Hannah was in an agitated state. She was glad to reach the room. Gran attempted to look casual as they approached the room. The single band of yellow crime scene tape gave her reason to smile. She and Gran glanced around and paused for a second. Hearing nothing, Hannah opened the bag the man gave her earlier and plugged it into the security lock card reader. Within a second, the door light clicked from red to green. No issues, she thought to herself, relieved. Gran pulled out a tissue from her bag and opened the door. She winked as each slid under the tape. Once inside, she closed the door with care.

  Turning toward the room, Gran and Hannah paused to take in the area. The room was disheveled. The luggage was open and lying on the bed. The lampshade sat askew. The television remote lay on the floor. Gran shook her head.

  “The police think this was an accident?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Rumor has it.”

  “That young man who told you…”

  Hannah focused on the task at hand while responding, “Ducky.”

  “Yeah, him. Could he have misheard or misread the situation?”

  Hannah glanced over at Gran. “Does he strike you as someone who would mishear… or misread… anything?”

  Thinking it over, Gran shook her head. “I suppose not. Of course, they could just be incompetent and lazy. Easier to come up with an excuse than actually do investigative work. I’ve seen it before.”

  Hannah admitted to herself she too had witnessed incompetency in the local police force. Her previous encounters with the local law enforcement had not gone well. This time, she hoped to bypass them as much as possible.

  Scanning the room again, Gran put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brow.

  “By their theory, this would have to be Elias and Janine’s doing.”

  “I can’t speak for Janine, but this is not Elias’ doing. He’s fastidious. I doubt he could stay with Janine were she this messy.”

  Her nose moving side to side, Hannah’s mind pieced through every part of the room. Her eye caught sight of something in the carpet, then another, followed by another. She leaned down to study the spots. Seeing her, Gran came beside her to study them as well.

  “Blood?” Gran asked.

  Hannah nodded. “I think so, but very little.”

  “The police had to find this.”

  “One would think so, but if it was the intruder’s, the case could be over before it started. Assuming at some point the individual acquired a criminal record of some nature and DNA played into that case.” Hannah rose and contemplated the tiny, almost unperceivable specks. She concluded if this was blood, and it belonged to Elias, then his struggle with said intruder was one sided. While not a large man, the truffle-loving chef was still big enough to cause some reciprocal damage were he to fight back. From what Hannah knew of the man from back in their college days, Elias was more than capable of handling his own in a fight. So, in her mind, there were three probable possibilities. First, the attacker had experience in taking down someone. Second, the attacker was much larger than Elias. Last, there was more than one attacker.

  Making her way over to the balcony, Hannah stood away from the edge. She did not want anyone to see her inside the room. Squatting down, she could make out black scuff marks along the vertical balcony braces. She called Gran over to study them. Hannah closed her eyes to go back to the moment when she saw Elias lying on the car. “Shoes. Shoes. What kind of shoes?” she asked herself aloud. “Polished, black casual shoes. He was in his jeans. Black jacket. Aqua blue pull on t-shirt. Black belt.”

  Opening her eyes, she worked the scene.

  Pointing, Hannah explained, “The blood droplets spacing are odd, perpendicular to the door. Drops one and two are close together. The third is at a distance from the other two as if it were flung.”

  Gran tugged at her ear as her eyes darted from the first two drops to the third. The corner of her mouth went up, and she said, “I think I know.” She took a stance behind the darkened spots. Looking to Hannah, she motioned with her fist toward her own nose, as if someone was hitting her. She pointed down to the two drops. “When whoever hit him did so, they busted his lip. When they pulled back, two small drops…” She slung her hand out to gesture. “When he turned his head from the punch, a trickle went flying.” She pointed to the third, more distant spot. “And it’s not the nose, because there would have been more blood.”

  Hannah grinned. “Still got it, Gumshoe Gal.”

  Gran gave a big smile. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “The attack was sudden and unexpected. Either he didn’t see them and was caught off guard, or he didn’t know it was coming.”

  “Ooh,” Gran exclaimed, “you did listen to me.”

  “Every word.” Hannah returned to the investigation. “Considering it all, if it was two attackers, they heaved Elias over.”

  Gran disagreed. “Facedown? How often does that happen? Too much droopage, with arms and legs dangling. It’d be easier to turn him over, don’t you think?”

  “True, but the scuff marks suggested otherwise. Someone pushed him headlong. If he fell backwards, there would have been no marks.”

  Gran examined the scratches on the railing once again. “True enough. One person then, or that’s what the evidence suggests.”

  Turning back to the room, Hannah rummaged through an open suitcase. She found the typical items for a trip. Toothbrush and paste. A small vial of pills recently filled. Trazodone, she measured, mouthing the words on the label. Antidepressant. Janine had mentioned them, but it was not until this moment it hit her.

  Hannah re-evaluated the room with all new information on hand. She ran through the possibilities. Was this a suicide attempt? Could the state of the room come from a man so depressed, he trashed his room before throwing himself over the railing? If so, what could have set him off? Or could he have been trying to mask the attempt so his wife could get the insura
nce? To make it look as if he interrupted a robbery in progress then ran headlong over the railing? She shuddered at the thought.

  Staring at the bottle, Hannah weighed the implication. She then again shook her head to clear it. Questions raced through her mind. She did not consider it possible of Elias. Still, many years had passed since they last encountered each other. On the outside, he was successful. Rich. Talented. Sought after. Praised. He maintained a solid life, a good wife, and soon, a child. Inside, she had no idea.

  After a moment, Hannah realized everything was clouding her mind. She needed to take it all in and sort it out later. Still, she went on about the business of mentally cataloging the room, watching as Gran did the same. If she was lucky, between her grandmother and herself, a clue might be yet found. Scuffling around, she located the charger to a laptop underneath the bedding that lay piled on the floor. Who took it? Police or attacker, she wondered when she could not locate the device itself.

  Opening the closet door, Gran found Elias’ bag of specialty tools. A leather knife roll of his favorite cooking utensils. Examining it, Hannah smiled as she recognized the container. His name imprinted on the upper left corner of the outside, she gave it to him when they dated. The knives were a different matter. All handcrafted, they were well maintained. She removed one and held it up for Gran to see. “If this was a robbery, then the thieves were idiots. These are worth thousands.” She returned the blade to the holder and handed the roll back to Gran. The elder Starvling replaced them to the closet.

  The assessment did not feel right to Hannah. Thinking it through, she knew one thing to be missing. The special refrigeration compartment Elias used to transport the truffles was not present. The police would have taken pictures of it, but not likely taken it. In all probability, they would have no idea what it was for to begin with. You serve truffles, fresh, she told herself. You harvest and eat them as soon as possible. She once again looked around. “But if you are bringing them along, you have to take different measures,” she added half aloud.

  Overhearing Hannah, Gran inquired what she was going on about. Her granddaughter did not answer, as she remained lost in her own thoughts. Hannah recalled her last conversation with her friend.