Kale to the Queen

by Nell Hampton

  “I wanted to say thank you for stopping by this morning,” Mrs. Perkins said and tried not to look at me. “It was thoughtful of you. You’d never meet Meriam and still you came with a meal.”

  “Mr. Haregrove told me that Mr. Deems had two children, and I thought having a prepared meal would be helpful in this trying time.”

  “Yes, well, Michael said you treated Frank with respect and that will be remembered. Here of course, not at the palace. At the palace, there is still a chain of command to be kept. Tradition, you know. Well, I don’t expect that you would know since you are American.”

  “I’ll learn,” I said.

  “Good.”

  She disappeared into the toilet when the door opened and the room was free. The toilets were down a narrow flight of steps. The walls were painted brick and the floors titled. I thought it must have looked just like this for at least a couple of hundred years. Men came and went quickly, laughing and joking with each other. For the girls there was always a line.

  Back upstairs, I made my way to the bar. Maybe Tommy had some secrets he would share.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said and leaned on the counter with a bar rag in hand. “Can I get you another drink?”

  “Yes, please,” I said and put my empty glass down. I was feeling mellow. “Did you know Mr. Deems well?”

  “As much as I know anyone on staff,” he said and poured me another glass.

  “Speaking of the staff, I haven’t met Jasper Fedman yet. Is he here?” I looked around the crowd for the greenhouse manager.

  “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him,” Tommy said and pushed the new glass toward me. “I’m not surprised as he wasn’t a big fan of Frank.”

  “Really?” I leaned my elbow on the bar and rested my chin in my hand. “Why not?”

  “Those two went to school together and were like brothers at one point, but they had a falling out of some sort.” Tommy shook his head. “It happened years ago, but they haven’t done anything but fight over silly things since. I’m guessing he’s not here out of respect for Frank’s family.”

  “Huh,” I said. “Come to think of it, Michael did say Frank had run into Jasper the night before he was killed.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t think it was a big deal. He said he could handle Jasper.”

  “I imagine he could,” Tommy said. “Only petty squabbles between those two. I suspect Jasper is hurting. It’s tough to lose a friend. Even if they were at each other’s throats.”

  “I can only imagine,” I said and sipped my drink. Tommy got called over to refill someone’s glass, so I left the bar and searched for Penny, only to run into Michael.

  “Thanks for coming tonight, Chef Cole,” he said and toasted me with his glass of beer. “Thanks for this morning as well. Meriam said the lasagna was spectacular.”

  “It must be so difficult for her right now,” I said. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay,” he said. “I’m worried about the boys. They don’t seem affected at all by their father’s death.”

  “They’re young. I’m not sure they understand what death is at that age, do they?”

  “I imagine it’s just a lot of people being sad,” Michael said. “Charlie keeps looking for his dad to come home.”

  “Who would do such a thing?” I asked. “Leave two boys without a father? Do you have any idea?”

  “None,” Michael said, his expression grim. “If I get my hands on them, I’ll see they hang for it.”

  “I don’t think England has the death penalty anymore. Do they?”

  “No, but I would make an exception. Frank was my friend.”

  “How good of friends were you if you two fought that night?”

  “Friends fight,” he said and shrugged. “It happens, especially if you’re close.”

  “Fine, I get it. He was your friend. What were you fighting over?”

  “It wasn’t important. We would have made up the next morning. Frank was like that—always seeing my side of things.”

  “Hmmm, we still don’t know any more about the argument between Chef Butterbottom and Frank. Do you think they were arguing over something unimportant like you were?”

  “Oh, I doubt it was unimportant. Chef Butterbottom could be a real hothead when it came to his opinion. It’s his way or the highway.”

  “Sounds like he could be a suspect. Did you find out anything more about their fight?”

  “No. According to the staff, the argument was just a rumor. No one actually saw anything. They only heard them fighting down the hall and then couldn’t tell what the fight was about.”

  “Darn. That makes Butterbottom less of a suspect. Do you know if there was a break-in? I’m too new to know if there was anything of value in the kitchen or greenhouse that would be worth killing Frank over.”

  “The only thing of value was the entrance to the apartments, but then you have to have a key card, and there are so many cameras and security checkpoints.” He shook his head. “There is no way Frank could have stumbled upon someone using the greenhouse to break in.”

  “Did anyone have a grudge against Frank?”

  “Enough to kill him?” Michael shrugged. “I don’t see how.”

  “Mr. Gordon seems to think they have a good suspect. Do you have any idea who it is?”

  “No,” Michael said and drew his eyebrows together. “I wonder who they’re thinking it might be.”

  “I imagine it had to be an inside job,” I said. “Like you said, security wouldn’t make it easy for an outsider to get in and out without being noticed. Chef Butterbottom has to be our best suspect.”

  “Butterbottom is arrogant and capable of a lot of things, but I can’t imagine he killed Frank.”

  “But it would have to be a staff member, right?” I asked. “Or a guest or visitor. Someone who had access to the personal apartment areas.”

  “A lot of people come and go at the palace. Staff and family members. That means it could have been someone here,” Michael said and studied the crowd.

  His words made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I could be mingling with a murderer. “Still, there doesn’t seem to be a motive. People don’t kill for no reason at all.”

  “Unless they are a serial killer, like Jack the Ripper.”

  “I highly doubt there is a serial killer on the loose in the palace,” I said. “I’m sure Ian would have him dispatched forthwith.”

  Michael laughed at the idea and then spotted someone coming in the door and sobered. “It’s Meriam. Please excuse me.”

  It didn’t take a genius to decipher the look in Michael’s gaze. He was in love with Frank’s widow. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?

  “She showed up,” Penny said as she appeared by my side. We both watched as Michael made his way toward a lovely blonde with pale skin, an oval face, and big green eyes. She wore a long-sleeved black wrap dress, little eye makeup, but red lipstick.

  “She looks like a movie actress,” I said. “I wouldn’t have put her and Mr. Deems together.”

  “They were teenage sweethearts,” Penny said. “She worked for a magazine for a year, and then when she got pregnant, she decided to be a stay-at-home mom.”

  “Michael is very attached,” I said, trying to feel out the situation.

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Penny said and sipped her latest pint. “Everyone knows he’s been half in love with her since she and Frank got married.”

  “But he told me he has a girlfriend,” I said. “Isn’t she bothered by how much time he’s spending with Meriam?”

  “Mr. Haregrove has a girlfriend? That’s news to me. I’ll have to ask around.”

  I drew my eyebrows together. “I’m pretty sure he told me he had a girlfriend. Oh, no, wait. He told me he was living in his mom’s house while she’s in nursing care.”

  “Michael does have a roommate, Felicity. Last I knew, she was off on a model shoot in Africa for two weeks
.”

  “Michael lives with a model and Frank’s widow looks like a movie star? I don’t—”

  “Understand the appeal?” Penny snickered. “I guess it must be surprising. These two are nice enough, but they aren’t exactly what you would call alpha male material.”

  “Right?”

  “There is prestige in working at the palace,” Penny said. “Besides the money being good, having access—no matter how slight—to the royal family brings on its own kind of fame.”

  “Then your boyfriend must be stunning,” I teased.

  “He is,” she replied and sipped her beer. “In my dreams.” She laughed at me. “Got ya! No, no boyfriend. I’m enjoying being single as long as I can. Besides, it drives my mum crazy that I haven’t settled down yet.”

  “Tommy seems to like you,” I pointed out.

  “Watch out for that one,” she warned me. “He loves the ladies and he loves to leave the ladies, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I’m not on the market,” I said. “I have John, remember?”

  “The man who can’t remember that you are in London?”

  “He can remember; he’s just busy. And he misses me.”

  “Well, maybe you can have him come over for a weekend sometime. I’d love to meet him. Meanwhile, promise me you’ll be my wingwoman at parties.”

  “I can do it,” I said, “if you promise me you’ll teach me what it’s like to be a Londoner.”

  “It’s a deal,” Penny said. “Come on, let’s pay our respects to Meriam.”

  We wound our way through the crowd to the back, where Michael had helped Meriam get a seat next to her mother. The crowd of well-wishers had begun to thin by the time we made it to her side.

  “Meriam,” Penny said and took her hand. “My sincerest condolences on your loss.” She kissed Meriam’s cheek. The widow’s eyes welled up with tears and she dabbed at them with a handkerchief. It suddenly made sense that she wore no eye makeup; it would only run down her face.

  “Hello,” I said and took her hand. “I’m Carrie Ann Cole. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “You’re Chef Cole?”

  “Yes.” I gave a short nod.

  “Thank you for stopping by and bringing the basket of food. It means a lot to me and the kids.”

  “I didn’t know Mr. Deems long at all, but he seemed like a good man.”

  “He was.” She sniffed and touched the tears at the corner of her eyes.

  “I’m certain he will be missed,” I added and then stepped away to let others more familiar with Meriam and Frank step in and share their tales.

  Telling Meriam my condolences was enough for me. The two drinks I had were hitting me harder than I thought. Perhaps because I was still getting used to the change in time. Perhaps it was because the music and crowd were loud. I saw Penny talking into the ear of a tall, handsome man with a bright white smile.

  I nudged my way over to her. “I’m going to head back now,” I said. “Thanks for bringing me.”

  “Do you really have to go?” Penny asked in the way that girls do when they are relieved that you are leaving but don’t want to sound like it.

  “I’m certain. I’ve got to make the family’s breakfast in the morning. Thank you again for introducing me to so many good people.” I looked at the handsome young man. “Take care of her, please. She might have had a few drinks.”

  “I will,” he said and put his arm around her back.

  “I haven’t had that many,” Penny said and giggled.

  I winked at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The pub wasn’t that far from the palace. All I needed to do was skirt around the park, as I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk through it by myself in the dark. When I turned the corner of the pub, I heard a noise coming from the alley behind it.

  Cautiously, I peered into the darkness to see two guys with their backs to me and one man facing them. Despite being backlit by the lights from the pub, I recognized the man facing my direction as Michael.

  “We want our money. We aim to get it—even if we have to take it the hard way,” one gruff voice said. It came from a burly man in the shadows. I thought he might be wearing jeans and a biker jacket. Did they have bikers in London?

  “I’ll get it,” Michael said. “There’s insurance money.”

  The second big guy appeared to be bald, and he shoved a fat finger into Michael’s chest. “You have forty-eight hours and we’re coming for it, funeral or no funeral.”

  “I’ll have it.”

  “You better.” The two men turned and my heart pounded in my chest. I ducked down the block and hid in the doorway of the nearest building. Plastered against the door, I was glad that my coat was dark.

  The two men came out of the alley and turned away from me and toward the front entrance of the pub. I waited until they were out of sight before I went back to the alley to check on Michael. But when I got there, he was gone.

  There was a tap on my shoulder and I gasped. I jumped and turned around.

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Ian said.

  I was never so glad to see someone in my life. His bulky frame and air of confidence made the fear leave my body.

  “I was walking home from the wake,” I said.

  “It’s not safe for a woman alone on the street. Why didn’t you take a cab?”

  “It’s not that far. I figured as long as I stayed on the streets I’d be fine.”

  “This is London, Chef, not some small American town. The streets are safe enough during the day, but it’s best if you don’t wander around alone after dark.”

  “I’m from Chicago, not a small town,” I said. “I think I can handle myself.”

  “Right,” he said and pointed toward the way I was going. “I’ll walk you to your door, anyway.”

  “I don’t want to keep you from something,” I said. “I’ll call a cab.”

  “I’m heading back,” he informed me and pointed the way. “I stopped by to give Mrs. Deems my condolences and let her know that I will stop at nothing until I find the person who did this to her husband.”

  “Wait, I didn’t see you at the wake,” I said as we walked side by side down the sidewalk. “You were there?” How could anyone miss Ian? He stood out even in a crowd.

  “I wasn’t there to socialize,” he said. “I went in, gave my condolences, and left.”

  “That seems antisocial. What’s the matter?” I had to ask. “Don’t you like the people who work at the palace?”

  “I like the staff,” he said and stared straight ahead. “I don’t have the time to do more than memorialize Mr. Deems with a shot of whiskey and give my condolences to his widow. I’ve got work to do if I’m going to keep the palace safe.”

  “It seems we have something in common,” I said.

  “Why’d you go?”

  “Penny said it would be a good way for me to meet more people who worked at the palace. She thinks I’m alone too much.”

  “What do you think?” He asked.

  “I think I have a boyfriend in Chicago and I would rather concentrate on doing a good job for the duchess than party all night.”

  “Good plan,” he said. “It appears you might have a good head on your shoulders after all.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “What do you mean I might have a good head on my shoulders?”

  He didn’t answer the question but quickened his pace.

  “What do you mean?” I asked again, chasing after him.

  He quickly used his badge to gain entrance onto the palace grounds. I had to stop and wait for security to scan my own badge. By the time I made it through security and to the apartments, Ian had disappeared into the warren that was the palace.

  I went to my room, turned on the lights, and kicked off my shoes. Then I grabbed a notebook and wrote down what I could remember about my night.

  Three men in an alley, too dark to see anything but the face of Michael Haregrove. The other
two were asking for money. They said they knew there was insurance money and Michael agreed.

  They would get their money in forty-eight hours.

  “What money?” I mused out loud. “From what insurance policy?” Did it have anything to do with Francis Deems’s death?

  Chapter 10

  “Mr. Haregrove will not be returning to your kitchen,” Mrs. Worth said. “I have scheduled four adequately trained assistants for you to interview today. I suggest you pick two.”

  “Wait,” I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. “What happened to Michael? I just saw him last night.”

  “He has been suspended from his duties,” Mrs. Worth said. “That is all I can say about it. We realize that this leaves you with no help and three meals to plan for the family. This is Miss Jones.” Mrs. Worth gestured toward a woman standing slightly behind her. “She is on loan to you for the day from Chef Butterbottom. Use her services wisely. Here are the résumés of the assistants you are to interview along with the times of the interviews. I hope you find them convenient. We did our best to work with your schedule. All interviews are conducted in the personnel office. If you have any further questions, Mrs. Perkins will be in the office after noon. Now get to work.”

  Mrs. Worth turned on her heels and strode out of my kitchen.

  I held the papers in my hands and looked at Miss Jones. “Well, then, what do you do best?”

  “I am a sous chef, and I specialize in pastries,” Miss Jones said. She appeared to be my age or slightly older. She had brown hair pulled back against her nape, large brown eyes set wide apart, and very fair skin. She wore a light-blue shirt and black slacks.

  “Good. Thank you for your help. We need to make breakfast for the family. We can discuss the rest of the day’s meals after.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll start with dried fig breakfast muffins topped with seeds and dried cranberries.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said. “I’ll add poached eggs, sausages, and a fruit compote. That should do for the morning menu. Lunch will be simple, as the children are going out for a small picnic in the park. I’m making cheesy tomato bread. We’ll add chunks of sharp cheddar cheese and a fresh spinach salad with strawberries.”