by Nan Lyons
Inspector Griege, a slight, very short man of about five feet, with an unruly head of frizzled gray hair, was smiling at them from the doorway. “I have catched you in the act,” he said. Natasha stood up immediately. “I am the Inspector Griege.” He walked toward them and extended his arm. “I wish to congratulate you on the unfortunate death of Monsieur Moulineaux,” he said sincerely.
“Congratulate?” Max asked, shaking his head.
“That is not the right word? I wish to express my congratulations?” Then he slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I wish to express my condolences. You must forgive me. My English is wonderful. Please, come inside and let us sing together.”
They followed him into his office, a room filled with shelves of old books, pictures of Buffalo Bill Cody and Chief Sitting Bull. There was a pair of crossed tomahawks on one wall, and a large brown-and-white cowhide skin on the floor. Inspector Griege’s desk set was made out of the same spotted cowhide.
“How do you hate this?” he asked raising his arms and pointing to the walls and furnishings.
“It’s just wonderful, Inspector,” Max said. “Makes me feel right at home.”
“It is lovely,” Natasha offered.
“Thank you. Thank you.” He pressed the buzzer on his desk. Two men entered the room. “Now I have made you feel good, I must ask that you each go into a less room so that we may drink your statement. Miss O’Brien, you will go with Monsieur Contron, and Mr. Ogden will go with Monsieur Suplice.”
Natasha and Max looked at one another, and then at the two narrow-eyed young men. They rose and were each ushered into a separate small room that had only a table, and two chairs.
“May I see your passport, Miss O’Brien?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You were not born in America?”
“No. I’m a naturalized citizen.”
“How long had you known Mr. Moulineaux?”
“Mr. Ogden, can you tell me where you were on Sunday?”
“We slept late, left the hotel, and went for a walk along the Seine. We took a boat ride. We had lunch at a café on the Left Bank. We went to the Eiffel Tower. We walked along the Champs and had dinner at La Norma, then we went back to the hotel.”
“You and Miss O’Brien?”
“Yes.”
“You were together all day?”
“All day and all night.”
“I see.”
“Were you more than friends with Mr. Moulineaux?”
“He was a dear friend,” Natasha said.
“Did you have a romantic relationship with him?”
“No.”
“You were married to Mr. Ogden?”
“Yes.”
“And now you are divorced?”
“Yes.”
“But you are staying together at the same hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have now a romantic relationship with him?”
“It’s hardly romantic, but if you’re asking whether we sleep together, yes.”
“I see.”
“But Mr. Ogden, how could you be so certain that another chef would be killed?”
“We weren’t certain. We were just trying to protect them.”
“So then you would know exactly where they were all of the time?”
“Yes. No,” Max corrected as he understood the implication. “So that we would know they were protected.”
“But the protection did not work.”
“No. It didn’t.”
“Perhaps because the killer knew he had to strike before the chefs were protected in their kitchens.”
“Yes. Maybe.”
“Because the killer knew that on Sunday the chefs would not be guarded.”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps? It seems very clear. It would indeed be clever to win the confidence of the chefs by offering them a plan and then kill before the plan goes into operation.”
“Just what are you implying?”
“Only that it would have been a clever thing to do.”
“So you were with Mr. Ogden the entire day?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“I would presume so.”
“People who could swear they saw you?”
“I don’t know. We were at La Norma.”
“What time was that?”
“Around six.”
“After the murder. Who saw you earlier?”
“I don’t know. Isn’t it enough that Mr. Ogden saw me?”
“You were married. You were divorced. You are sleeping together. You are each other’s alibi. It is like the wife testifying for the husband.”
“But we’re not married any longer.”
“A technicality. But I do not think a jury would believe such alibis.”
“A jury?”
“Is it true that you tried to hire Mr. Moulineaux for your restaurant?”
“How did you know that?” Max asked.
“Would you please answer?”
“Yes. I did.”
“And what was his reply?”
“That he would sooner die.”
“He did not like your restaurant?”
“No. He did not.”
“And you were upset with him?”
“Auguste told you that I had an argument with jean-Claude.” The policeman was silent. “Yes. We argued. I told him that I thought he was a pompous ass. Like the rest of them.”
“The rest of them?”
“The other chefs who didn’t want to work for me.”
“So there were other chefs who rejected your offer?”
“Yes.”
“And you do not think very highly of them?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Please answer the question.”
“No. I don’t think very highly of them.”
“But you called a meeting to try to save their lives?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you did not think highly of them, and some of them had rejected your offers?”
“Yes.”
“This new restaurant is very important to you?”
“Yes.”
“You are working very hard to ensure its success.”
“Yes.”
“But you have not been able to find a chef who would work for you?”
“I will.”
“But you have not yet found one.”
“No.”
“This could not please your company very much.”
“They know I will find someone.”
“But you are surely under great pressure.”
“Miss O’Brien, you are a feminist?”
“I am a person.”
“But you believe that women have been repressed by men?”
“Yes.”
“You believe that women should have the same pay as men?”
“Yes.”
“You believe that women should have the same opportunities and jobs as men?”
“Yes.”
“They should be chefs, as men are.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because women can do the same things that men can. There is no difference between a man or a woman in the kitchen.”
“But it is surely very hard work?”
“Yes. But we’re not butterflies.”
“You think that women can do all the same hard work in the kitchens as men?”
“They’ve been doing it at home for centuries. Why not get paid for it?”
“They can handle the same tensions? The same equipment?”
“Yes, of course.”
“The same duck press?”
“And what did you do when Miss O’Brien told you she thought she might be killed next?”
“I told her not to worry.”
“But you were worried?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell Mr. Moulineau
x that you were afraid he might be killed?”
“That was the reason we had the meeting. We thought one of them might be killed.”
“But she told you of her conversation with Mr. Moulineaux and of her fears. What did you do then?”
“I ordered dinner and we watched television.”
“Did this chef in London who was killed also refuse to work for you?”
“No.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No.”
“Was he not a good chef?”
“Yes, he was.”
“Then why did you not ask him?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“But there must be a reason.”
“It was a personal reason.”
“May I know the reason, please?”
“It has nothing to do with anything.” The policeman looked at Max, waiting for an answer. “I did not like him.”
“Why?”
“He was sleeping with Miss O’Brien.”
“You were in London when he was killed?”
“Yes.”
“So you were in London when that chef was killed, and you were in Paris when Mr. Moulineaux was killed.”
“If you think you are to be killed, why did you not come to the police?”
“Because … what would you have done?”
“You began to say ‘because.’”
“Because I was questioned in the other murders.”
“And you had enough of the police?”
“Yes.”
“But since you were not guilty of the other murders, why would you not do everything possible to save your own life?”
“I couldn’t be certain that my own life was really in danger until Jean-Claude was killed.”
“And so you were waiting for him to die?”
“No. I wasn’t waiting.”
“You were in London and in Rome when the other chefs were murdered?”
“Yes.”
“And now you are in Paris when Mr. Moulineaux is murdered.”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes. But I didn’t kill him.”
“Because you were on the Eiffel Tower?”
“Yes.”
“And in Rome?”
“I was at the Forum.”
“You do a great deal of sightseeing.”
“Of course, you may call a lawyer. But I do not think it is necessary. I am only trying to understand where you have been. You have not yet been charged with anything.”
“Yet?” Max asked. “Listen, there is a lady next door who is going to be killed unless you stop wasting time and find out who the hell is carving everybody up.”
“You are sure she will be next.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know? I mean, since you are not planning it, how do you know for certain that she will be next?”
“How do you know for certain that you will be next?”
“Because the killer has followed the pattern of a dinner. Hors d’oeuvre, fish course, entrée, and next is dessert.”
“And you are the dessert?”
“Yes.”
“You mean someone is committing murder according to a menu?”
“Yes.”
“And by coincidence you have been in each city that each chef was killed in and by coincidence you are the dessert. So now after they are all dead, all men whose jobs any woman could have done, now after they are all dead you come to us and say that you need protection against this menu killer?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I am only trying to understand.”
“I think you’re trying to understand too damn much. I’ve told you where I was yesterday. If you don’t believe me, prove that I was somewhere else. If you have proof, then charge me and I’ll get a lawyer. If you have any further questions related to my whereabouts when Jean-Claude was killed, ask them. Otherwise, I don’t intend to answer any other questions.”
“But I am sure you have nothing to hide.”
“And I’m sure that I don’t have to put up with your insinuations. I need your help, not your suspicions. But I can damn well do without both.” Natasha got up and walked out of the room. Inspector Griege was seated at his desk aiming a Colt .45 at the opposite wall.
“Ah,” he said, quickly shoving the gun into his drawer, “I did not expect you would have been begun so soon.”
“Inspector, I need your protection.”
“But, Monsieur Contron will not harm you.”
“Inspector, someone is trying to kill me.”
“But no. You are very safe here. This is the Sûreté.”
Natasha turned as she heard Max’s voice yelling, “Don’t you understand, someone is going to kill her!” It was the first time she had heard her terror verbalized by someone else. Suddenly it all seemed too real. She was telling the police someone was going to kill her. Max was telling the police someone was going to kill her.
The door to Max’s room opened, and the other policeman came out. He went to Inspector Griege and they spoke very quietly for a moment. “Monsieur Ogden, if you would be good as to come in here.” The three men left the room.
Natasha and Max sat down. They looked at one another and said simultaneously, “They think I did it,” and began to laugh. Then Natasha began to cry.
“Listen to me,” Max said. “Each murder has taken place when the chef was in the kitchen alone with the killer. That’s the pattern. That’s how the killer works. We know that. All we have to do is keep you out of the kitchen, or be sure someone is with you.”
“But that’s what we told Jean-Claude. That’s what we told everyone. We knew that.”
“Then we also know Jean-Claude went to the kitchen because he thought he was safe. The killer had to be someone Jean-Claude knew and trusted.”
“And that’s what they’re saying, Millie. They know Jean-Claude knew and trusted us.”
“Well, make up your mind, damn it. Are you more worried about being the killer or the killee?”
Inspector Griege came back into the room.
“Inspector, Miss O’Brien needs protection. She will be in Paris for another two days.”
“She is going away?”
“Yes. She has to be in London on Wednesday. You have no reason to detain her.”
“I do not have any at this hour. But I would like her to stay upside down for a few days more in Paris.”
“You can’t keep her here.”
Griege walked back to Suplice and shrugged his shoulders. They argued for a moment and then Griege came back to Max. “You are both free to went after you give us each a separate statement.”
“But what about protection? I want her to have police protection while she is in Paris.”
“But of course I will protect her. I think she is the killer!”
“I’ve already heard,” Achille said.
“From who?” Max asked. He put his hand over the receiver and whispered to Natasha, “He doesn’t miss a murder!”
“Auguste told me,” Achille said. “He called and reversed the charges. He said he had no money because you hadn’t paid him.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“How is Natasha?”
“Couldn’t be better. She’s convinced she’ll be murdered next.”
“And knowing you, you’ve been feeding this paranoia of hers.”
“I will bring her to London tomorrow. After the funeral. I want you to hire a bodyguard for her.”
“Of course. I’ll have the bodyguard at the airport. Just deliver her to London and I’ll take care of the rest. Let me speak to her.”
Max sighed. “The beneficent Oz himself.” He gave the receiver to Natasha.
“Achille, darling, I’m terrified.”
“Listen to me and do not speak. You are with a hysteric. Remember that he with whom you share your bed requires noises from his morning cereal. What he requires from you is none of my business insofar as it does not affect your work. Kindly bear in mind
you are expected at Harrods on Wednesday. Until then you would do well to stop flattering yourself that someone wishes to kill you.”
“I suppose that’s meant to be reassuring.”
“Have I ever neglected you?”
“No, Achille, you never have.”
“Then be reassured. I shall take very special care of you in London.”
STATEMENT OF INVESTIGATING OFFICER
Case No. 87765/Moulineaux 17/9 Suplice
Subject: Maximilian Ogden
Attachments: Taped interview (16/9)
Signed statement (16/9)
Comment of Investigating Officer.
Subject is in the process of opening an omelette restaurant in Paris on behalf of a large American food processor. According to the taped interview, the deceased refused to work for Ogden because he thought the project unworthy. It is possible that Ogden, under great pressure, killed Moulineaux in anger. He could have convinced his ex-wife, with whom he is now having an affair, to provide him with an alibi which, although a weak one, gives him more on his side than we have against him. Or, he could be threatening her in some manner.
I am concerned with the London and Rome murders, although they are beyond our jurisdiction. I know we cannot use suspicions in those cases to strengthen our own suspicions but I believe we are dealing with a situation of multiple murders. I believe it is possible
1. Ogden killed the London cook because
a. he was having an affair with his ex-wife,
b. he rejected Ogden’s business enterprise.
2. Ogden killed the Rome cook because
a. he was going to have an affair with his ex-wife,
b. he rejected Ogden’s business enterprise.
Although we cannot yet prove Ogden was in Rome at the time of the murder, we know how simple it is to get a forged passport, and that would be no problem for someone with money.
We have here an interesting mix of sexual competition and professional rejection. It is my opinion that a man as dynamic and attractive as Ogden, with an insecure personal life and pressures from a large corporation, could respond in a criminal manner.
Recommended action: Continue surveillance.
STATEMENT OF INVESTIGATING OFFICER
Case No. 87765/Moulineaux 17/9 Contron
Subject: Natasha O’Brien
Attachments: Taped interview (16/9)
Signed statement (16/9)
Comment of Investigating Officer: