Lord of the Pies

by Nell Hampton

  “Come in,” Mrs. Worth’s new secretary, Mrs. Hunter, said when I knocked on the door. “Ah, yes, Chef Cole. I’ll let Mrs. know you are here.”

  I waited in the tiny office and glanced out the window. She had a view of the parking lot as well. Then the top of the Orangery. I imagined the views of the lush grounds were left for the royals who lived here.

  “She will see you now.” Mrs. Hunter pointed the way to the office door. Pointing wasn’t necessary. The office was rather small, but I suppose it was polite. Mrs. Hunter seemed very polite.

  “Thanks,” I said and entered Mrs. Worth’s office. Mrs. Worth sat behind a massive old desk. Behind her was a large window letting in bright light. There was an old fern on a stand soaking up the light. “You asked to see me?”

  Mrs. Worth was no nonsense from head to toe. She led the household and, if anything or anyone was out of place, it was up to her to see that it got back into its place as quickly as possible.

  “Yes, Chef Cole.” She waved me in. “Please have a seat.”

  I sat in the small chair in front of her massive desk. I imagined the desk was over one hundred years old and was adapted to having a computer screen placed on it. The palace staff might live in history, but we were fully versed in the modern century.

  I sat and waited for her to address me. She studied me for a moment and then let out a long sigh.

  “Have I disappointed the duchess somehow?” I asked, my own insecurities shining through. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything more.

  “I understand that you have had quite a lot of trouble,” Mrs. Worth said. “First with Wentworth Uleman’s death and the subsequent searching of your kitchen. Now with Chef Wright’s death, you must be … overwhelmed.”

  “I didn’t know either very well,” I said. “But it is sad and kind of scary.”

  “Have you been investigating these deaths?”

  Okay, that was to the point. I sat back. “In my own way,” I admitted. “I don’t like it when people point fingers at me for crimes I didn’t commit. I have no motive and certainly no means to poison or kill anyone. I’d much rather be coming up with new recipes for the duke and duchess.”

  “Good,” she said with a nod of her head. “Good. I like to hear that you would prefer to do your job and let security do theirs.”

  “Mrs. Worth, is the duchess not happy with my performance?”

  “The duke and duchess are satisfied with your work,” she admitted.

  “And they know that I had nothing to do with any of the crimes going on here.”

  “No one has said that you do,” she said, tilting her head. “Why are you worried about that?”

  “I’ve heard rumors that the duke and duchess might not want a chef who has stumbled over two deaths in a matter of months. I’m worried that my job is on the line.”

  “Is that why you are talking to tabloid reporters?”

  “Oh, boy,” I said. It was my turn to sigh. “He said if I didn’t give him my story he would make one up about having a murderous cook in the duke and duchess’s kitchen.”

  “And you thought you should handle this problem on your own?”

  I drew my eyebrows together. “Should I have come to you about it?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Your employee handbook has an entire section on how to handle such nonsense. I recommend you go back to your rooms and reread the handbook. As an employee at Kensington Palace there will be many people attempting to blackmail you—whether true or false—into giving them what they want. Do not let this happen. We have an entire protocol on how to handle such things. Meeting said reporters after hours in seedy pubs is not acceptable.”

  I swallowed hard. “I didn’t know.”

  “That is most likely my fault. I skipped some common training sessions with you due to the urgency to place a proper chef in your position. Let me rectify that. Starting this evening, you will be assigned an orientation class that meets twice a week for four weeks. The class covers all the salient points of the employee handbook and takes you through role playing on how to handle such things as threats from tabloids.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You will start with the other new employees tonight from six PM until nine PM.”

  “But the family’s dinner is at that time,” I protested.

  “The duchess is aware of your training and will handle dinners for her family on appropriate dates.”

  “What will she do if she has a meeting or event? I’ve heard they sometimes will order takeout—but I—”

  “We’ll let the duchess figure out what is best for her family,” Mrs. Worth said. “Having a properly trained staff is paramount to safety and security.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “Now, Mrs. Hunter has your schedule for the next month mapped out along with the proper materials. Let her know if you have any further questions.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said as I stood up. “Thank you.”

  “There is also a formal process that happens if and when an employee is let go from the family. Learn this process,” she said. “It should ease your mind a bit.”

  “Thank you.” I left her office. I wasn’t sure if it would ease my mind or make me worry more. I decided I would let it ease my mind.

  *

  “Agnes.”

  “Yes, Chef,” the older woman said as she plated the sandwiches for lunch.

  “How long have you worked in the palace?”

  “I’d say my entire adult life, Chef,” she said. “I started off as a part-time waitress in the Orangery. I’ve made my way throughout the various kitchen staffs here at the palace.”

  “I see.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I have to go to a formal employee handbook training that will take up two nights a week for the next four weeks. Did you go through the training?”

  “Yes, Chef, and all of the employees go through yearly update trainings. The royal family likes to have the best-trained staff available and the only way to do that is to train them.”

  “I see,” I said.

  “When does your training start?”

  “Tonight.” I winced. “Dinner has been cancelled. The duchess will be cooking, or the staff will bring in takeout.”

  “Takeout? I certainly hope they have a taster on hand to ensure the family’s safety.”

  “I’m sure they will,” I said. “It does break my heart that the duke and duchess would get takeout Thai food. I have this amazing peanut sauce recipe. I’ve been waiting for the children to outgrow the allergy stage to serve it.”

  “I’m sure they aren’t giving it to the kids,” Agnes said. “I guess this is good news for me.” She smiled. “Shorter work days this month.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll take lunch up now,” she said. “We’re still making tea, right?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, Chef,” she said and patted my shoulder. “Training is better than being let go. Right?”

  “Right.”

  When Agnes left, I picked up my phone and texted Jasper. “Hi, how are you?” I hoped I could break it to him easy that I couldn’t make our date tonight.

  “Good,” he texted back. “What’s up?”

  “I have to cancel tonight,” I typed and then deleted. It was better to start with the reason. “Just got back from a meeting with Mrs. Worth.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “She is sending me to employee handbook training starting tonight.” I hit send and waited, holding my breath.

  “Ah, so no drinks.”

  “Right,” I texted. “Can I have a rain check?”

  “No worries,” he texted back. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “See you soon.”

  I certainly hoped so.

  *

  The conference room was full. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who needed a full month of training. I saw Evie and squeezed
through the crowd to take the seat next to her. “Hi, Evie.”

  “Chef,” she said in acknowledgement. Evie was all dolled up with picture-perfect makeup that included black cat-eye eyeliner and bright red lipstick. She wore a pale green shift dress. Her hair was done in soft waves around her face. Even her nails were spotless. I’m certain she had the more expensive acrylics. Next to her I looked like a working stiff with no-nonsense makeup and hair. My nails were trimmed short and plain. That way I could keep them clean.

  “Call me Carrie Ann,” I said. “Why are you here?”

  She frowned. “Someone thinks I need a refresher.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Who knows. Here it’s all drama, drama, drama.”

  “Is it because you were fighting with Rachel in the parking lot? What was that all about anyway?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Rachel,” she said. “I hate her.” Her eyes flashed. “Don was mine. That girl tried to take him, but he showed her. He didn’t fall for her seduction. He told me I was all he ever wanted. He was going to leave his wife and we were going to be together forever. Rachel just had to get over that.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” the instructor shouted to get our attention. “Let us settle down and begin. Tonight’s subject is how to properly handle the press, from bloggers to the tabloids to national news media. Open your handbooks to page thirty-four. Let’s begin.”

  I didn’t have any more time to talk to Evie, as the training took two hours. All I could think was that Penny was right. Evie and Rachel were fighting over Chef Wright. I wondered what Chef’s wife thought about it all. Unfortunately, the trainer made it perfectly clear that we were all supposed to stay away from news happenings that did not directly involve us.

  No matter how much I felt involved in Chef Wright’s death, I could not link myself to it directly.

  At the end of class, I stood and turned to Evie. “Do you want to go get a glass of wine? I need to get out after sitting so much.”

  “No drinks for me,” Evie said and put her hand on her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh my gosh, congratulations,” I said. “Is it?”

  “Yes, it’s Don’s child.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Now my baby is fatherless.” She glanced at me. “He was going to leave his wife and take care of us. We had plans to move to the country and open a bed-and-breakfast. It was all going to be so beautiful.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said, patting her arm.

  She sent me a watery nod. “Thank you. No one even thinks of me when they go on about how Don died. How he left three children, when in fact he left four children.” She pulled me aside. “I’m going to sue for child support.”

  “Sue who?”

  “Don’s wife, of course. She is getting a large insurance settlement. I’ve talked to my lawyer. I know my rights. By rights my child should get a quarter of that money.”

  “Have you talked to Mrs. Wright?”

  “I don’t need to talk to the old bag,” she said. “I have my solicitor doing it.” She leaned back and patted her stomach. “We’re going to be rich. Aren’t we, baby?”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” was the only thing I could think to say at that moment.

  Her eyes welled up with tears again. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? I told the cops that there’s a good chance Don’s wife is responsible for his death.”

  “She is? How so?” I tilted my head, considering.

  “She had the most to gain. He had just told her about us. He was going to leave her. She would have gotten nothing.” She looked at me with round eyes. “I might have done the same thing in her circumstances. I mean, you believe a man when he tells you that you are his one true love. That’s why Rachel had to know that I wasn’t going to stand for her sniffing around my man.”

  “Does Rachel know you’re pregnant?”

  Evie grinned. “I told her that day in the parking lot. That’s when she attacked me. If you ask me, she should have gotten fired. But all they did was give her a stern warning and a write-up on her record.”

  “Oh,” I said. “A write-up is bad.”

  She shrugged. “It takes three substantiated incidences before they can start procedures to fire you. I’m not concerned. Rachel, on the other hand, should be. This was her second write up.”

  “It was?”

  “Oh yes, and if I have it my way she’ll get another and be gone soon.”

  “Wow, you really don’t like her.”

  “Not only did she try to take my man, but she’s also on my list of possible killers.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I saw her coming out of the Orangery the afternoon Don was killed,” Evie said.

  “Did you tell CID about this?”

  “Not yet,” Evie said. “First, I want her to lose her job, then she can lose her freedom.”

  “Right,” I said, suddenly beyond my ability to put up with such venom. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

  “Sure, see you at the next class,” Evie said.

  I blew out a breath and took the long way around the building. The sun was just setting, and I needed to feel the cool, damp air on my face. I could not believe Evie. She was really messed up. Someone needed to tell CID about Evie seeing Rachel that day. I frowned. Rachel deserved to know that Evie had it out for her.

  But I didn’t know where Rachel was or even what her first write up was for. Maybe Evie was right. Maybe Rachel was the killer. In that case, I needed to stay as far away as possible.

  Chapter 24

  I ran into Penny and Rachel in the hallway outside Penny’s room. “Oh, hello,” I said. “Are you two going out?” Both women were dressed for clubbing. I blinked at Penny. “What happened to the vicar?”

  “He said I was a little too fast for him. I wasn’t fast,” Penny said and I could tell she’d been drinking already. “I’ll show him fast. We’re going to the club. Want to come?”

  “I thought I might want to get a glass of wine, but now I’ve got a headache,” I said, which was actually true. I’d just spent two hours in a room full of people. I needed some space to clear my head.

  “You know what they say will cure that?” Penny grinned at me.

  “What?”

  “A good shag,” Rachel said with a laugh. She was as well-lit as Penny.

  “Right,” I said. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’ve got a date with my pillow.”

  “Too bad for you then,” Rachel said. “Come on Penny, I’m in need of forgetting.”

  I grabbed Penny’s arm as Rachel headed down the hall.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Be careful with Rachel,” I said. “She has a reputation for getting in trouble with the staff.”

  “Rachel? She’s harmless.”

  “Her fight with Evie was her second write up,” I said. “One more and she’s gone.”

  “Hey, what’s the hold up?” Rachel called from the top of the stairs.

  “Nothing,” Penny called. “I’ll be right there.” She turned to me. “Maybe you should come with me to keep me out of trouble.”

  “No, thanks,” I said, letting her go. “Go have fun. Just be careful, okay?”

  “Sure,” Penny said. “Careful to have a good time.” She blew me a kiss and hurried down the hall. She put her arm through Rachel’s and they laughed as they danced out of sight.

  I sighed and went to my room. I really liked Penny and didn’t want to see her getting mixed up with the wrong set. I don’t know what I’d do if she got fired. Penny really was my best friend in London. The vicar’s rejection must have really hurt her. If I were a better friend I’d go out with her and ensure she was safe.

  Instead I put on and the kettle to make a cup of tea. I put on comfy pajama’s and brought my tea to curl up on the sofa in my living room. It was just me and my employee handbook.

  An hour later there was a knock at my door. I got up and checked the peephole before I opened i
t. “Hi,” I said as I held the door open a crack.

  “Sorry to bother you so late,” Ian said. He looked every kind of dashing standing in the hall. I wanted to open the door and invite him in, but I was in my pajamas. And he had a girlfriend.

  “What’s up?” I asked and leaned against the doorframe.

  “I thought you might want to know the latest on Chef Wright.”

  “Oh, yes, sure.” I opened the door. “Sorry, I was getting ready for bed.” I tugged on the edges of my bathrobe.

  “Looks like you were studying your employee handbook.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the book and my empty teacup on the coffee table. “Learn anything?”

  “Yeah,” I said, scratching my head. “I learned not to talk to the press.”

  He leaned against my doorframe and smiled at me. “That is always a good idea. They have a whole department for handling matters of the press. You should let those people do their job.”

  “You should have told me that when I talked to Nigel Bloom the first time.”

  “Who’s Nigel Bloom?”

  “He’s a reporter for Fake News.

  “You talked to him?”

  “Yes, but it didn’t go that well.”

  “And if I had told you earlier not to talk to him, would you have listened?”

  “Well, you have me there,” I said. “What is the update on Chef Wright?”

  “He was stabbed.”

  “But I didn’t see any blood,” I said and frowned.

  “It was too cold for the blood to pool outside the body,” Ian said.

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I asked. “Won’t it get you in trouble with DCI Garrote?”

  “No,” Ian said. “I told you I would let you know what was happening when I learned details.”

  “What did the murderer stab him with? How many times?”

  Ian smiled at me wryly.

  “Oh, right, no further details and such,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Ian said.

  “So, um, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

  “I’ve been busy with security issues,” he said. “I heard a rumor that you had an encounter with a tabloid journalist that wasn’t so pleasant.”