Kale to the Queen

by Nell Hampton

  She screeched and jumped at me with her bare hands extended. I used the pan again and this time aimed at her shoulder. I purposely didn’t aim for her head. She was old. She was crazy. I didn’t want to kill her.

  The pan knocked her toward the sink, giving me room to get around her. I rushed to the door, but as I reached for the handle, the door opened and I fell headfirst into the solid form of a man.

  Mrs. Perkins made a terrifying sound behind me and grabbed my hair, snapping my head back as she clawed and yanked. Tears filled my eyes.

  “Drop the pan!” Ian ordered.

  I did what he said, letting it fall to the floor in a clatter. I used my hands to fight off the witch that tried to dig my eyes out. Suddenly she was lifted away from me. Ian held her around the waist as she struggled against him, kicking and screaming bloody murder.

  “Stop!” he shouted, giving her a solid shake. She went limp for a moment. We were all breathing hard. Adrenaline had me rushing back toward the door. “I said stop,” Ian growled, and I stopped just outside the kitchen door. “What is going on here?”

  “See that knife?” I pointed toward the large butcher knife on the floor. “She tried to kill me. So if you don’t mind, I’m not going to stick around.”

  “Don’t you dare move,” he said. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?”

  “I could never hurt anyone.” Mrs. Perkins became strangely docile. “That poor girl is deranged. She attacked me with the frying pan.”

  “Only after she lunged at me with the knife!”

  “Enough!” Ian said. He set Mrs. Perkins down.

  “Don’t let go of her,” I warned. It was too late. The moment he let go, she lurched for the knife, picked it up, and swiped a long and terrible arc toward Ian’s gut.

  Now I have to admit that I’m not all that brave. He was a big guy, and she was a murderer. I figured getting the heck out of dodge and calling the cops was my best play.

  I ran into the hall and dialed the palace equivalent of 9-1-1.

  “Mrs. Perkins is trying to kill Ian Gordon with a knife in the family kitchen,” I said in a weird parody of the game Clue.

  “Help is on the way,” said the operator’s voice. “Are you okay?”

  I slumped down to the ground and hugged my knees. “I will be,” I half-whispered.

  The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs filled my ears, and four men rushed the hallway. “Where?” the first man barked.

  I pointed toward the kitchen.

  They burst through, and I could see that Ian had Mrs. Perkins subdued.

  “He’s all right,” I said to the operator. I hung up the phone and stared at the kitchen door. The security men came out as Ian pulled Mrs. Perkins out. Her arms were cuffed behind her.

  “Are you all right?” one of the security team asked.

  “I think so,” I said and hugged my waist. “Shook up.”

  “My name is Alfred, and I’m going to walk you to your room and sit with you a while. Emerson will stand guard at your door.” He pointed to a large red-headed man in a security uniform standing outside the kitchen door.

  “Are you here to keep me in or the bad guys out?”

  “Whichever we have to do,” Alfred said. “Come on, up you go.”

  He got me to my feet, and I found that I was shaky from adrenaline. The walk to my room took what seemed like an hour. He opened my door with a master key, and we waited while Emerson checked the room.

  “All clear,” he said and came out to stand by my door.

  “Come on, let’s put you on your couch. You seem to be a bit in shock.” Alfred took my right elbow in his hand and guided me to my couch. When I sat, he elevated my feet and covered me with the thick silver throw I had bought for my couch on my way back to the palace one day.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I’m going to make you tea,” he said and went to my tiny kitchenette. He filled the tea kettle and put it on to boil. He unwrapped an individual Earl Gray tea bag and poured hot water into the cup. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

  “Plain is fine,” I said and took the cup from him. A sip of the warm brew soothed my throat. “Is Ian all right?”

  “Gordon? Yes, he can hold his own with the ladies,” Alfred said with a wink. “Now hush and enjoy your tea. I’ve been given instructions to keep you quiet until the inspector gets here.”

  “What about Mrs. Perkins?”

  “She’ll be taken away to hospital,” he said. “She’s . . . not quite herself. Now no more talk from you. Sip your tea and try to relax.”

  He went on to chatter about his dog and the recent trip he took to the beach with the retriever and how the dog loved the water and dragged back his bodyweight in sand and seaweed.

  There was a knock at the door. I looked up to see Ian and Inspector Garrote outside. I was relieved to see Ian all in one piece. Inspector Garrote’s eyes were hidden behind thick horn-rimmed glasses. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.

  “Chef Cole,” he addressed me as he came inside. “No, no, don’t get up.” He waved me down when I moved to stand. He took the wingback chair across the coffee table from me, opened his little notebook, and clicked his ballpoint pen. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “I was in the kitchen after hours. I like to take tea and enjoy the quiet after a long day. Mrs. Perkins appeared. She startled me, actually. I didn’t know she was there until she said something.”

  “Mrs. Perkins entered the kitchen.”

  “Yes,” I said, my gaze going to Ian’s. “She wore that butcher’s smock and had her hands behind her back.”

  “Why did she come to the kitchen?”

  “I believe she meant to kill me like she killed Mr. Deems,” I said.

  “That’s a large accusation,” Inspector Garrote said. “Do you have any evidence to prove it?”

  “Besides the big butcher knife she had?” I asked. Sarcasm was a defense mechanism for me. “Actually, yes,” I said, suddenly remembering my phone. “When she started blaming me for Meriam’s downturn in health, I hit redial on my phone. My phone should have called Ian’s.”

  “You did?” Ian asked, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to access his missed calls and voicemail.

  As I suspected, the sound was a little garbled, but you could make out most of the words—Mrs. Perkins admitting to murdering Mr. Deems and her desire to be rid of me because I had talked to Meriam. When the sound of the fight began, I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I was not ready to relive that.

  After a few minutes, Inspector Garrote touched my shoulder. I opened my eyes and took my hands away from my ears. “It’s over,” he said gently. “You acted quickly in calling Gordon.”

  “I thought if she was going to kill me, I wanted someone else to know who did it. She was deranged.”

  “Good thinking,” Ian said from where he stood next to the small breakfast bar. His arms were crossed over his chest.

  “What made you come in?” I asked him.

  “I was making my rounds and heard the scuffle,” he said. “I saw you swing that pan at her and thought I’d better step in.”

  “You didn’t know, did you?”

  “Know what?”

  “That Mrs. Perkins was bent on killing me. That she had killed Mr. Deems.”

  “No,” Ian said. “I didn’t suspect.”

  “She had access to the greenhouse,” I said. “She parks her car very close to it. She must have come in unnoticed, killed Mr. Deems, and went out and back to her car without anyone being the wiser. I mean, if you saw her on the parking video, you would simply think she was going into her offices.”

  “Exactly,” Inspector Garrote said. “Although, Mr. Gordon did put Mrs. Perkins on the suspect list.”

  “Then why did you settle on Michael?”

  “Mrs. Perkins wasn’t as strong a candidate as Mr. Haregrove,” he said. “A jury would take one look at her and assume she was innocent.”

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p; “I think that’s what she was counting on,” I said. “But the stress of her daughter going through cancer and her son-in-law gambling away any money the family had was too much for her. She snapped.” I looked at Ian. “You saw her. She looked insane. I don’t think she was faking.”

  “I agree,” he said with a scowl. “Luckily I was able to subdue her. The medics came and gave her a sedative, and they took her off.”

  “Will she go to jail?” I asked.

  “Most likely, although I would vote that they keep her in a ward for the criminally insane,” Inspector Garrote said. “Not that she didn’t know what she was about, but her reason is clearly off. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to take both of your phones into evidence. We can remove the recording and clean it up.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said and handed the inspector my phone, and Ian did the same.

  “You were very smart to make the call since there are no cameras in the kitchen,” the inspector said. “Without this voicemail, I would only have your word against hers. Mr. Gordon didn’t see enough to determine who was actually at fault.”

  “Clearly she assaulted me and then Ian,” I said.

  “With the recording, yes, it is clear,” the inspector said. “Without it, I would need to have an in-depth investigation. As far as we can tell, Mrs. Perkins is the only injured party.”

  “What?”

  “She has bruises from where you hit her wrist and shoulder with a frying pan,” he said and gave me a steely look. “You did hit her with the frying pan, correct?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but only after she came at me with a butcher knife. I didn’t try to hit her in the head. I only wanted to delay her so that I could get away.”

  “I can attest to that,” Ian said. “When I arrived, Chef Cole was running out the door. Mrs. Perkins leapt on her from behind and dragged her back to the kitchen by her hair. It was clear that Mrs. Perkins was the one committing assault.”

  “Assault?” I said, my voice rising. “She was trying to kill me! I was only defending myself.”

  “You seem a little hysterical,” the inspector said. “I imagine it’s been quite the night.”

  “I’m not hysterical,” I protested, but the rise in my voice made me seem that way. I stopped, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. “Mrs. Perkins tried to kill me for the same reason she killed Mr. Deems. She thought she was protecting her child.”

  “Why would Mrs. Perkins feel that you are a threat to Meriam Deems?” the inspector asked.

  “Because I overheard two thugs saying they were going to squeeze the widow to get the insurance money. You see, Mr. Deems had a gambling problem. He had told Meriam that he kicked it, but her cancer was a stressor that made him go back into that world. He owes his bookie a quarter of a million pounds. Mrs. Perkins killed Mr. Deems to prevent him from putting her daughter and grandchildren deeper in debt.”

  “What you’re saying is that Mrs. Deems didn’t know her husband was gambling again.”

  “That’s right. She thought it was Mr. Haregrove who had the gambling addiction.”

  “And you told her the truth? How did you find out?”

  “I told you, I overheard the thugs talking. Then I spoke to Neville from the main kitchen, and he told me it was Mr. Deems with the problem. I went to Mrs. Deems to warn her that she and her boys could be in trouble.”

  “Mrs. Perkins saw that warning as a threat?”

  “Yes. You see, she was trying to keep the news of the debt from her daughter. I spilled the beans thinking I was saving Meriam from the thugs. Mrs. Perkins said that now Meriam isn’t eating or drinking anything. With her cancer and chemo treatments, she has to keep her strength up.”

  “And that made you a threat to her daughter,” Inspector Garrote said as he wrote notes.

  “In her mind, yes,” I said. “So she came to do to me what she did to Mr. Deems.”

  “That’s insane,” Ian said.

  I looked at him with tears in my eyes. “Yes, it is.”

  “Like I said, it’s a good thing you recorded the conversation,” the inspector said. He placed my phone in a clear evidence baggie. “Now, you’ve been through enough for one night.” He rose and handed me his card. “Contact me if you remember anything else.”

  “Okay,” I said and slumped into the couch.

  “We may need to speak again,” the inspector said. “But I suspect what I need is pretty much on this recording.”

  “What about Mr. Haregrove?” I asked.

  “I’ll see his lawyer gets a copy of the voicemail. Then he can put forth a motion to dismiss, and Mr. Haregrove will be free.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’m glad to see justice done.”

  “Good night, Chef Cole,” Inspector Garrote said. “Let’s hope I don’t see you in any further adventures.”

  I gave him a short half smile. “I most certainly hope you don’t.”

  Ian walked the inspector out. Alfred and the other guards still stood in the hallway. I clung to my cup of tea and tried not to let the shivers overtake me. There was a knock at the door and I looked up to see Jasper.

  “I heard what happened,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  I sent him a small smile. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Can I come in? I mean, I know I might be on your bad side.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked and then noticed he waited by the door. “Yes, come in.”

  “Penny told me that you sent your ex-boyfriend packing. I hope it wasn’t because of me,” he said and tried to look comfortable as he sat in the flowered chair across from me. Unlike the inspector, who looked at home in the chair, Jasper was muscular enough that he looked like he was wearing it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

  “It was just a kiss,” I said and clung to my tea cup. “I was a willing participant. Besides, it’s not what really broke us up, so you’re off the hook.”

  “I didn’t come here to get off the hook, as you say. I came to see if you were all right.”

  “I will be,” I said. “John wanted me to quit this job and go to San Francisco with him.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “It was his dream or mine,” I said. “I chose mine.”

  Jasper leaned toward me. “Smart girl.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t feel smart right now.”

  He reached over and patted my knee. “You are, and I admire you for it.” There was a knock on the door and Ian stood in the doorway. “I’d better go,” Jasper said. “Take care.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  The two men eyed one another as Jasper left and Ian came inside and closed my door. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m shaken but not hurt. How about you? I saw her swipe that knife at you,” I said.

  “I managed to get it away from her pretty easily.”

  “I don’t know how she killed Mr. Deems,” I said. “It had to be a surprise attack or he would have fended her off as easily as you did.”

  “Yes, I imagine she got him from behind,” Ian said and leaned against the kitchenette counter. “We’ll go over the video from the parking area that night. I remember seeing Mrs. Perkins walk to and from her car, but that is nothing out of the ordinary because she usually enters her workplace through the door on the other side of the greenhouse.”

  We were both silent, lost in our thoughts for a moment. Finally, I broke the ice. “Thank you for saving me,” I said.

  “I think you pretty much saved yourself,” he answered. “Smart thinking on the frying pan.”

  “My mind went to the need for a shield. I saw the pan and thought it might be heavy enough to deflect the knife. I really didn’t want to hurt her.”

  “Also, smart thinking to call me. It’s lucky I didn’t hear the phone ringing and the whole incident was recorded on voicemail.”

  “I hope it’s useful for the inspector.” I glanced up at Ian. “I told you Mr. Haregrove was innocent.”
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  “I know,” he said. “As promised, I’ll give him another chance to work at the palace.”

  “He won’t come back.” I hugged my knees. “He told me that he wanted to get a less stressful job so that he can take care of Meriam and the boys.”

  “What about the debt?” Ian asked.

  “There was enough life insurance for Meriam to pay off the debt and still live comfortably.”

  “I see.” Ian sat back. “Listen, I wanted to apologize again for mucking up your personal life.”

  I put my cheek on my knees and looked at him. “You’re forgiven. I suppose you were only trying to do a nice thing. You didn’t know it would end a six-year relationship.”

  Ian winced. “He didn’t get up the nerve to ask you?”

  “Oh, he asked, but I said no. He wanted me to quit this job and to move to San Francisco with him. I wanted him to quit his job and move to London with me.”

  “You are going in opposite directions.”

  “Yes,” I closed my eyes for a second. “We are. It’s over.”

  “Right,” Ian said and straightened. “Sorry.”

  I motioned toward the chair. “Don’t go,” I said, knowing I sounded pathetic. “Please. I’m afraid.”

  “All right,” he said. “Go take a hot shower. I’ll tuck you in bed, and we’ll see how you feel after that. Okay?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Now,” he pointed to the bathroom, “go take that shower. Trust me, your muscles need the heat to relax.”

  “Have some tea.” I nodded toward the teapot on the kitchen counter. “Your muscles have to be just as full of adrenaline as mine. It’s not every day someone tries to kill you with a knife.”

  “I’ll make tea,” he agreed.

  “Thank you, Ian. I appreciate all you did.” I closed my bedroom door behind me, grabbed my robe, and headed toward the shower.

  Chapter 28

  Right after breakfast the next morning, I was called into Mrs. Worth’s office. I went there straight away, leaving Phoebe to make the cookies for tea. Lunch was to be organic tomato soup and little man-shaped cheese toasts.

  Mrs. Perkins’s desk was empty when I arrived, so I knocked on Mrs. Worth’s office door.