Previous Confections

by Ruth Hartzler

  It was lucky I couldn’t see the body from where I was sitting and I hoped Melissa would calm down a little now that they had taken her out of the room. The uniformed officers ushered everyone into another room. I figured this was a private room for diners, although no one was dining there when we were all ushered in.

  The officer called for attention. “Now I’d like those of you who were at the table with the victim to move over to this side,” he said. “The rest of you stay over there. Has anyone noticed anyone leave?”

  The consensus was that no one had left, but I remembered the person running away just before Marcus Matheson had fallen to the ground.

  I tentatively raised my hand and cleared my throat. The officer swung around to me. “Did you see someone leave?”

  “Well, it might not be important…” I began, but he interrupted me.

  “Allow me to be the judge of that,” he said, although not unkindly.

  “Someone knocked into the waiter. It happened before Mr. Matheson, um, died,” I said. “Someone knocked into him hard and glass shattered all over the floor. The man took off out the door and didn’t even look back or say sorry.”

  The officer nodded slowly. “And how long was this before Mr. Matheson fell to the ground?”

  “Possibly a minute, maybe less,” I told him.

  He pulled a notepad from his pocket and flipped it open. “Can you describe him to me?”

  I shook my head. “It all happened so fast. I only saw the back of him. He was a man and he was only a little shorter than the waiter, but much thicker set. He was about the same build as Mr. Matheson, only like I said, he was taller than him and just a little shorter than the waiter. He had medium brown hair, but that’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s a better description than most are able to give,” the officer said appreciatively. “What is your name?”

  “Jane Delight,” I told him.

  The officer looked past me and hurried from the room.

  Ted was still muttering to himself, shooting angry glances my way, for whatever reason I did not know, but at last was now consoling Cherri who was clinging to him with both hands.

  The officer walked back through the door. “Will the people who were dining with Mr. Matheson please come this way?”

  He led us all through the large room into a smaller room. I had no idea of the purpose of this room, as it was the size of a large bedroom. Against one wall was an Oriental sideboard with a large gilt mirror over it. I idly thought the Oriental sideboard was quite out of place in a French restaurant. I heard someone speak, and I spun around.

  Standing there was Detective Damon McCloud and with him, Detective Carter Stirling.

  “Not again,” Detective McCloud said in his broad Scottish accent.

  I could simply offer a shrug.

  He sighed and flipped open his notepad. “I need everyone’s names please—surname first and Christian name second.” He added, “Not you, Miss Delight. I know your name.”

  Everyone stared at me in surprise and Ted shot me an accusatory look. People gave their names, surnames first and Christian names afterward, and then Detective McCloud came to Ted. He raised one eyebrow.

  “Delight, Ted.” Ted said.

  “I have no idea why you’d be delighted,” Detective McCloud said. “I need your name, surname first and Christian name second.”

  Ted was clearly enraged. “Delight, Ted!” he yelled.

  “Why are you delighted?” Detective McCloud said. “It seems most inappropriate, given the circumstances.”

  I thought I should explain. “His name is Ted Delight. He is my ex husband.”

  Detective McCloud flushed red. I expect he couldn’t quite understand our American accents.

  “Quite so, quite so,” he muttered, but Ted continued to glare at him.

  “Now, we will need to get a witness statement from each of you. You can tell us what happened, in your own words.”

  “Why would you think we’d use someone else’s words?” Ted snapped at him. “I’ll have you know I’m a most prominent lawyer.”

  Ted intimidates most people, so I was pleased to see Detective McCloud was not. He drew himself to his full height, which was taller than Ted, and took a step toward him, looming over him. “Duly noted,” he said in an icy tone, although I think it sounded quite cute in his Scottish accent.

  Clearly, Ted did not think the accent quite so cute. He took a step backward, but continue to glower at Detective McCloud.

  Rick Weatherspoon spoke for the first time since the incident happened. “You obviously expect foul play,” he said. “Should the rest of us be seeking medical treatment?”

  “Why would you ask such a question?” Detective Stirling asked him.

  “I assume Marcus was poisoned. The food hadn’t yet arrived and we all drank the same champagne, so I’m wondering if we all should go to the hospital.”

  Detective McCloud looked around at all of us, but his eyes rested on me. “Did you all drink the same champagne?”

  Everyone nodded, but I said, “I drank iced water. I only took a sip of the champagne when Marcus made the toast.”

  Detective McCloud took notes. “And no one ate anything else?” Everyone shook their heads. “And you’re sure Mr. Matheson didn’t drink or eat anything else?” After everyone nodded, he asked, “And how soon after he drank the champagne did he collapse?”

  “Quite quickly, probably within seconds, or maybe about a minute,” Rick Weatherspoon supplied. “Should we be standing around here if we need medical attention?”

  “We don’t know if Mr. Matheson was poisoned, but if so, it was clearly a large dose of a fast acting poison,” Detective Stirling said. “As no one else is feeling at all ill, this suggests that the poison was meant for Mr. Matheson alone—if it was poison that is. It might simply have been natural causes, but we won’t know at this stage. Right now we have to treat it as suspicious, which is why we’re asking these questions, but I don’t think any of you need to be alarmed.”

  “Yes, and if Mr. Matheson was indeed poisoned, he might have been poisoned some time ago and not at the dinner tonight,” Detective McCloud pointed out. “And as my partner has said, we won’t know whether or not it was natural causes for some time. Right now, we’ll take witness statements from all of you.”

  I could hear Melissa crying in another room. It was clear to me the detectives thought Marcus had been poisoned, and I figured from my recent research into poisons that it must have been a large dose of poison. The paramedics clearly thought the same, or they wouldn’t have called the police. Yet what poisons acted so quickly?

  I knew there was one person who would know the answer, my roommate, Matilda.

  Chapter 3

  I hurried back to my apartment. I couldn’t wait to tell Matilda and Eleanor what had happened. I hoped they were back from their dance class. For ladies in their eighties, they certainly were energetic. They put me to shame and I was a good thirty years younger.

  I unlocked the door and opened it ever so slightly to make sure that my roommates’ naughty cat, Mr. Crumbles, did not escape. He usually waited inside the door ready to slip through.

  On this occasion, he was not there, so I let myself in and hurried up the stairs. I was met by loud drum music.

  I walked into the living room and gasped. There in front of me, stood a pole from the floor to the ceiling. I gasped. “A stripper pole!” I exclaimed in horror.

  Matilda was clearly affronted. “Oh my goodness gracious me, no! It’s a dance pole. You knew we were having dance lessons.”

  I was aghast. “I thought you meant the waltz,” I said, scratching my head.

  “It’s the latest craze,” Eleanor informed me. “Many people take pole dancing lessons these days. They say it’s good for the core.” She muttered to herself, “Not that I know what a core is.”

  “Won’t Rebecca mind? Is it attached permanently?”

  Matilda waved one hand at
me. “Of course not! It’s held on by pressure. It’s entirely portable. Would you like to have a go?”

  I shook my head.

  “Mr. Crumbles might like it,” Matilda said. “Cats like poles, don’t they?” She picked up the cat and held him next to the top of the pole. He wrapped his paws around it just as Eleanor screamed.

  “You fool, Eleanor! Get that cat off the pole!”

  I watched in horror as Mr. Crumbles flew around the pole in a counter clockwise motion, his gray fur flying out in all directions. He picked up speed and then suddenly he was airborne.

  The next thing I know I was lying on my back on the ground, winded. As I gasped for breath, I realized what had happened. Mr. Crumbles had let go of the pole and he had been spinning so fast that the centrifugal motion had flung him right off the pole into the pit of my stomach.

  Matilda bent over me. “Jane, are you all right?”

  I opened one eye just in time to see Eleanor pluck the cat from me. “Oh, you poor thing,” she cried, cradling the cat to herself. “I need to get you some cat treats for that. How could you be so irresponsible, Matilda?”

  Matilda turned away from me. “He loved it. Kittens enjoy playing.”

  “Only with balls or toy mice, Matilda. Sometimes I think you act like a five year old child.” With that, Eleanor stormed off.

  “I’m sorry then,” Matilda said. “I’ll give him some treats too.”

  I continued to lie on my back, gasping for air. I had only just managed to sit up when Matilda returned. “Oh, you’ve gone quite white, Jane. Maybe you were winded.”

  “I was winded,” I said. “I wasn’t able to breathe for a while.”

  Eleanor marched back into the room. “There’s no need to worry. Everything is under control. Mr. Crumbles has had lots of treats and is quite content.”

  Matilda rounded on her. “How could you say such a thing? Your cat hurt Jane.”

  Eleanor held up her hands, palms to the ceiling. “And that’s my fault, how? You were the one who put poor Mr. Crumbles onto the pole. I’ve never seen such an irresponsible act.”

  Matilda rolled her eyes and was about to say something when I interrupted. “Someone was murdered tonight.”

  That got their interest. “Murdered?” Matilda asked. “Where?”

  “When we were having dinner,” I told her

  “Was it your ex-husband?” Matilda asked, rather too gleefully. “Are you under suspicion?”

  I shook my head and then took a deep breath. “No, it was his client.”

  Matilda looked disappointed. “Eleanor, help me get Jane off the floor and over to a chair and she can tell us everything.”

  The ladies grabbed one arm each and pulled me to my feet. I was surprised at how strong they were. “I’ll make Jane a nice cup of coffee to soothe her nerves,” Eleanor said over her shoulder as she marched out of the room, Mr. Crumbles trotting behind her.

  “Put a lot of sugar in it to calm her nerves,” Matilda called after her. “Maybe put some of that brandy in it that you’ve got hidden in the cupboard.”

  I could not hear Eleanor’s response, and maybe that was just as well.

  I sat there until Eleanor had placed the coffee in front of me. I took one mouthful and nearly spat it out. “Did you put any coffee in the sugar?” I said with a laugh.

  “You’re probably in shock,” Eleanor told me, “and sugar is good for shock. Drink it up. Won’t you tell us what happened tonight?”

  “Ted wanted me to sign the papers as you know,” I began, but Eleanor interrupted me.

  “You didn’t sign them, did you? We told you not to sign them.”

  Matilda shushed her, but I said, “No, of course not. They’re in my purse.” I pointed to my purse, which was still sitting in the middle of the room. “Anyway, for some reason the owners of the restaurant and their business partners wanted to have dinner with us. Actually we didn’t get as far as dinner, because one of them, Marcus Matheson, drank some champagne and then he pretty much fell down dead.”

  “Maybe it was a heart attack,” Eleanor offered.

  I shook my head. “No, the paramedics called the police and the police called the detectives. They said they’re treating it as suspicious for the time being.”

  Matilda arched her eyebrows. “And by detectives, do you mean a certain handsome Scottish detective?”

  I tried not to smile too widely. “Yes, Detective McCloud was there. Anyway, I’m wondering what poisons could act so quickly.”

  Matilda tapped her chin. “Cyanide acts very quickly. Maybe it was cyanide. And strychnine acts quickly too. Did he happen to have severe convulsions?”

  I shook my head. “He looked quite peaceable. Well, you know, apart from the fact he was dead.”

  Matilda nodded slowly. “I see. Apart from all the nerve poisons, most poisons don’t act as quickly as that. But as we know from our recent case, maybe the poison was given to him before the incident. Some poisons can be given over weeks before they take their toll.”

  “Ricin can take a few days to kill,” Eleanor said.

  Matilda agreed. “Maybe it was tetrodotoxin. Did you happen to eat any puffer fish?”

  “I didn’t eat anything,” I said. “As far as I know they hadn’t ordered. Ted, Cherri, and I had ordered but the meals hadn’t arrived.”

  “Cherri!” Matilda and Eleanor squealed in unison. “Cherri was there?” Eleanor added.

  “She sure was,” I said raising my eyebrows. “Actually, she seems quite nice.”

  “What does she look like?” Eleanor asked me as she bent down to scoop up Mr. Crumbles.

  “She looks like a supermodel,” I said. “She’s tall and thin and she wears beautiful clothes. She’s very young.”

  “You knew she was young,” Eleanor told me, “so that can’t have been a surprise. Still, it must have been an awful shock to meet her. Whatever was your ex-husband thinking?”

  “Goodness knows!” I said.

  “Nerve agents can act quite quickly,” Matilda said, apparently losing interest in Cherri for the moment. “And then there is batrachotoxin. Some of it comes from plants, but mostly it comes from the skins of frogs. A small amount of that can kill you.” Her eyes lit up.

  “And there’s saxitoxin, don’t forget, Matilda,” Eleanor scolded her. “It’s a neurotoxin.”

  “I was just getting to that,” Matilda snapped. “As our father always said, ‘There are two classes of people who shouldn’t see things half done, fools and children.’”

  “I wasn’t looking at anything half done though, was I Matilda? I was listening, not looking. You’re twisting my words as usual.”

  “So are there any other poisons that act quickly?” I asked, simply to stop their bickering.

  “Oh, yes, botulinium toxin,” Matilda said. “It’s one of the most toxic substances known, ten thousand more times deadly than cyanide. About one teaspoon could wipe out the world’s population.”

  I gasped. “You’re kidding!”

  Matilda took another sip of coffee and then added, “Yes, it comes in several forms, but it’s best known as Botox.”

  “Botox!” I exclaimed. “What, are you saying Botox is made from botulinum toxin?”

  Both Eleanor and Matilda nodded sagely. “It most certainly is,” Matilda said. “And then there’s atropine, also known as belladonna,” she added, “and of course we all know about wolfsbane.”

  Matilda leaned over and patted me on my knee. “At least you don’t have to investigate this case, Jane. Your sister wasn’t even there. She was home with a broken arm, so she’s not going to be a suspect, and I doubt you’ll be a suspect. You had never met the vic, had you?”

  I shook my head. “I never even heard his name before tonight. And I’ve never even met Cherri. The only person I knew there was Ted.”

  “And you said you were sitting at the same table as the victim. Were you sitting next to him or opposite him?”

  I shook my head again. “I was dow
n at the other end of the table.”

  “Then you’re safe,” Eleanor pronounced. “The police can’t tie you to this one. We can look forward to a peaceful few weeks of learning how to pole dance and not have to worry about any more murder investigations. I’ve had enough of murder investigations and snooping around.”

  “But it was only once,” I said, wondering why Matilda was shooting Eleanor a quelling look.

  “Once is enough,” Eleanor said.

  “Yes, thankfully, this has got nothing to do with you this time,” Matilda said, just as the bell to the apartment rang.

  “Oh gosh, I hope it’s not the detectives,” I said clutching my stomach.

  Eleanor waved me down. “I’ll get it. You stay there, Jane, and recover from your terrible accident.” She glared at Matilda.

  I was surprised to hear a woman’s voice coming up the stairs. I exchanged glances with Matilda.

  I was even more shocked when a sobbing Cherri burst into the room.

  She ran over and flung her hands around my neck. “Jane darling!” she cried. “Jane, I need your help!”

  Chapter 4

  I stood there with my mouth open, but Matilda and Eleanor flew into action.

  “You must be Cherri,” Matilda said, raising her eyebrows at me.

  I nodded confirmation.

  “Eleanor will fetch you some coffee and then you can tell us what’s happened,” Matilda said.

  Eleanor muttered something to herself and hurried from the room.

  I managed to detach Cherri’s arms from around my neck and patted the couch beside me. “Cherri, whatever is wrong? I can see you’ve been crying. Tell me what happened.”

  Eleanor raced back in at that moment with some coffee. “I put a lot of sugar in it for the shock,” she said.

  Cherri thanked her before busting into tears. “It’s my Ted,” she wailed. “The police have arrested him for Marcus’s murder.”