by Rose Young
Roxanne went home to lie down on the couch. She was exhausted after the ordeal with Georgi and the money drop at the library, the arrest at the coffee shop, and the police station saga. Trying to relax, she nonetheless found, she was too wound up. She skimmed through a book to take her mind off the day.
From her library she selected, ‘Deadly Promises of Poisonous Plants’. The author thought it a good idea to let everyone know how certain plants were dependable, in making you sick or killing you. His dark sense of humor made Roxanne snicker. She found him oddly amusing like Edward Gorey, the artist who enjoyed poking fun at death.
Glancing through the book, it described the deadly Yew shrub found in Mitch’s mouth. It was an effective poison since the ancient times of Caesar. Many warriors and statesmen were prepared to drink a mottled concoction of yew leaves for an early death, rather than be tortured or killed by the enemy. Roxanne murmured, “Oh, my!” at the lethal confirmation.
The mysteries of horticulture continued. A serene image of a lovely English garden full of demure petals, leaves and twigs suddenly devolved into the depths of a secret society of plants, with bold and poisonous possibilities. Everything is not as it seems! She read on enjoying the surreal adventure.
Mind altering plants were suspect in an account reported in the South Australian Register in 1874. A purported man-eating plant in Madagascar, witnesses testified, attacked a woman, “…the tendrils one after another, like great green serpents, with brutal energy and infernal rapidity, rose, retracted them, and wrapped about her, in fold after fold, ever tightening with cruel swiftness and savage tenacity…” Stunned at the account, Roxanne read on, laughing loudly. It was a complete fabrication in order to sell more papers.
The eccentric reporter had woven the whimsical on a loom of historical facts using threads of the hysterical. He splattered colorful irony throughout and sprinkled opium poppies and other noxious plants within. In other words he was ridiculous.
Roxanne chuckled and enjoyed the much needed escape and pondered, Hmmm, what’s this? ‘Poems of Devious Dirty Deeds’
Jealousy and Jimson Weed
She wants to be a swinger,
her lover hasn’t a clue.
She wants to dance in revelry,
all the night through.
He wants her devoted attention,
to have her as his wife.
He tries to pin an apron on
to keep her in his life.
She steals away in evening time
to spark her inner light.
He finds her with another man
a dark and handsome type.
With strong and urgent desires,
his nostrils puff and flare.
His options leave no other choice
to keep his lover fair.
A murderous note he’s hastily scrawled
now lays upon the ground,
with remnant seeds of Jimson weed
scattered all around.
He’d found a way to keep
and bind her to his heart.
He had her drink a deadly dew
so in death they’ll never part.
Roxanne read the description aloud. ‘Datura Stramonium L., Jimson weed, Jamestown weed or Devil’s Snare, is noted and nicknamed for contributing to the untimely deaths of many settlers in the early 1600s in Jamestown, Virginia, the first colony in America.’ Suddenly, a loud banging bolted her upright on the couch. Slowly she leaned to peer into her backyard. Much to her relief, Sam was pounding his boots clean on the back deck. He was just arriving home from work.
Finding her with a book on the couch he thought, all seems back to normal. Sam ventured an observation, “You’re taking it easy, I see. Have you worn yourself out amongst the poppies and the peonies?”
She looked at him in a strange uncomfortable way, like a cat with a mouse in its mouth.
Her appearance caused a watchful Sam to say, “If you are going to be sick, I'll get out of the way.”
“No.” She kept quiet, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know the details of her afternoon, and she was still reflecting on the outcome. She debated internally with her own unsettled relief, trying to determine how he would react to the events of the day. “I've something to tell you,” she said softly.
“Well,” he surprised her, “let's wait until you have some food in you. I'm taking you to Captain Scott's Lobster Dock. Some fresh air will be good.” She smiled secretly glad she could put off telling him about her last mission impossible.
“I am feeling a little weak,” she agreed. “Maybe food will give me the energy I need. What do the Brits say? I’m feeling a bit peckish?”
“Okay,” he smiled, “Let’s take our ‘Beauty’ out for a ride.”
In her best fake British accent, she declared, “That sounds just lovely!”
They climbed into their spacious 1947, hunter green, Buick Super. The shiny chrome grill, looked like it could eat the road while the sizable whitewall tires made it a cushy ride. The engine purred as they drove in classic fashion on this warm summer evening. Prepared, Sam had selected some music and with his phone attached to a small portable speaker he hit the play button and the song started. Baby let’s cruise, away from here, Don’t be confused, the way is clear… Smiling Roxanne sang the Smokey Robinson tune called ‘Cruisin’. At the chorus Sam joined in, I love it when we’re cruising together.
They passed Fort Trumbull’s entrance and turned right on to Hamilton Street. At the very end of the narrow and lumpy road was Captain Scott’s restaurant. It sat in an odd nook in New London, perched and squeezed between the train tracks and a marina on Shaw’s Cove.
After standing in the self-serve line at the outdoor venue, Sam ordered and paid for a few of their favorites, clam fritters, a scallop salad and fresh fish sandwiches. They sat at one of the picnic tables away from the other diners. The sun was still high enough, at 6:30 pm, to be above the sailboats that flanked the marina. A soft clinking of the mast lines and the lapping water sounds created the relaxing atmosphere that Roxanne needed. A few seagulls soared above calling for food, and murmurs of dinner conversations rose and fell around them.
As they finished their last few bites, Sam said, “I have a confession to make.” Roxanne perked up. “You do?” That was my line, she thought.
“The detective told me all about your ordeal this afternoon, that’s one of the reasons I was home late from work.” Sam had decided to hold off on telling her about Charlie Brass.
“Oh?” she said relieved, “I was about to tell you...but I wanted to wait awhile.”
He added, “I’m sorry to say, all has not ended well. There has been a new development and Dan says they have the wrong guy.”
Roxanne lunged forward in her seat and whispered loudly, “How is this possible!”
Sam knew of the other diners, “How about we take a ride by the water and talk about this?” She nodded in agreement. They cleared the table and Sam drove their noble sedan to the coastline. He parked with a view of the Ledge Lighthouse.
He squeezed her hand. “Listen, most importantly you and Georgi are safe and sound. All the folks the police caught were just cheap pawns in this guy's game. It’s the old 80-10-10 rule.”
“What’s that?”
Sam elaborated, “Cops all over the world share a theory: 10% of the people in a busy marketplace, like downtown New London, would never do anything bad. They would never cheat, steal or harm. Another 10% of the people would do all of these and more, without a second thought.”
Sam leaned in to emphasize, “Now wait till you hear this. All the other people, the 80% can be swayed, and this is where it becomes interesting. This is the group we are talking about. If you’re a bad guy, you want to pick the right kind of people, the ones who won’t be noticed. Eighty percent of people can be persuaded, if given the right incentive. So this killer picked people off the street to do his bidding for a quick hundred dollars. He took advantage of their personal motives.”
Roxanne’s hands went to her head, “Oh, my God!” Processing what he meant, she asked, “You mean local people, whom we may know, were helping this guy? I can’t believe it!”
Stunned by the revelation, she stared out to the calm waters of the Sound and to Ledge Lighthouse. The red and white square brick structure looked like a floating gift box in the early setting sun. All it needed was a big white bow on top.
Softly she wondered, “Isn’t it odd to witness such beauty while encountering extreme stress? It’s as if there’s a great irony being played out like a Greek tragedy. When things went horribly wrong they blamed it on some vengeful god.”
Sam turned the key to the antique Buick, engaging the gear he drove down Pequot Avenue. Roxanne kept talking, “The Greeks figured the gods were manipulating their lives. They had no control, until a hero arrived like Hercules.
As if in a misty trance, she said, “That’s how I feel right now, I need a hero. I have no control of what is happening…” Her voice trailed off, as she slightly shook her head in disbelief of her circumstances.
They passed the mouth of the Thames River. The sunset cast glowing colors of pink and orange hues onto a large sailboat. The colors reminded Roxanne of a tropical fruity drink, and suddenly she thought of Georgi.
“Sam, let’s go see Georgi. I want to tell him in person that they didn’t catch the real guy. I feel so helpless. I don’t think I have ever felt this helpless in my life.” Sam reached across to her and put his hand over her knee. And she placed her hand over his and held tight.
“Sometimes this is what life dishes us, a problem we can’t easily solve. We just have to wait, be patient, and trust that things will work out.” Trying to comfort her, he added, “Let Dan run his investigation. It will reveal more details. Eventually, given time, you will see the results. Let Dan be your hero.”
“I guess you see this at work all the time, dealing with fires, arson, death and raw emotions,” she admitted. “I’ve never been involved in a major problem. Here they are happening all at once. Murders, blackmail, muggings, this isn’t normal!”
“For Dan and I, it comes with the job,” Sam conceded, “you never get used to it, but you learn after many stressful times that it will pass. You manage your emotions when all hell breaks loose and people are falling apart, because everything they own has just gone up in smoke. You do what you can until nothing is left to do. And in every suspicious incident, like a death or arson case, you know eventually all will be revealed. It usually just takes longer than you would like.”
Roxanne looked adoringly at Sam, appreciating the tone of his voice, his experience, and his hand in hers. They finally arrived at the Vinho Verde Wine Bar. They could see Georgi moving about inside through the large paned windows, framed by the vine of heart-shaped leaves and white moonflowers.
Chapter 39
Day 4 – 7:30 pm – The Vinho Verde - Wine Bar
Roxanne and Sam quietly stepped inside the entrance of the Vinho Verde. Soft sounds of jazz filled the air and they realized an event was about to start. Deciding to stay, they selected a secluded table near the door, so they may observe the wine tasting dinner Georgi was hosting. One waiter approached their table and they placed an order for coffee and Devil’s Food Cupcakes.
Georgi’s clientele were on the balcony overlooking the Thames and sipping champagne. Suddenly, in a gentle way, a light breeze fanned the thin muslin drapes into billowing shapes. Roxanne’s gaze followed the movement upwards to the small twinkling lights encircling the rafters. “Isn’t this wonderful?” she murmured to Sam.
Soon enough, the wait-staff ushered the guests to their seats. At each place setting was a line of various wine goblets, linen napkins and polished silver. Stepping forward gracefully, Georgi appeared, dressed in crisp attire. He wore a tailored shirt in a soft lime with sleeves neatly rolled to the elbow, and dark grey slacks, which gleamed with a silken sheen. The young wine aficionado took on his ready-to-serve pose as the waiters stood by keen to attend to their twenty patrons.
Welcoming the group, Georgi announced clearly, “Good evening, everyone.” He slightly bowed as if on a theatrical stage. “I want to start the evening by giving you a little ‘Vino Veritas’ which means ‘Wine Truth’. We have several offerings that we sell here at Vinho Verde that are on the high end of the Wine Advocates rating list.” Georgi gestured quote signs in the air around ‘rating list’.
“To be known as a great wine on the list, it must be rated 90 points and above out of 100. This is all in accordance with wine aficionados such as Robert Parker, who have established this point system based on an agreement among the refined tastes of master sommeliers. We will be offering a few of these wines this evening during our tasting dinner.”
“Let us start with our first wine, from Bedell Cellars, growers on Long Island since 1980. Their Sparkling Rosé is a unique handcrafted blend of grapes grown sustainably on their estate. Delicate, fresh, and lively, it’s a fun wine, like me,” he posed like a jester, “yet with a serious edge.” He then saluted and the group laughed.
“Please enjoy this tour de grape which consists of Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon & Merlot.”
The guests sipped the Sparkling Rosé, chatted, and nibbled on fruit and fine cheeses. Georgi noticed Roxanne and Sam. He waved and blew a kiss. They signaled hello and Sam leaned toward Roxanne to tease her, “I’m really hoping he blew that kiss to you.” She eyed him with a smile and he winked at her.
Having given the guests time to finish their glass of Rosé, Georgi prepared for his next presentation by ringing a bell to gain their attention. “Our next wine, everyone, is a Gewurztraminer, from Priam Vineyards of Colchester, Connecticut. It is quite delicious with our first course, a warm grilled salad of curried eggplant, snap peas, summer squash, golden raisins, fresh spinach and feta cheese.
“The wine’s characteristics are a crisp minerality, and fragrant Alsatian style white, this means it is like a fine wine from the northeast region of France. This wonderful vino is very complex and full of fruit flavor, with a floral, fragrant nose of ginger, honey, hibiscus and white rose. You will find it evolves on the palate in aroma and taste, first with fruit then minerals, to a dry, tannic finish with crisp lemon rind and spice. This lovely libation has won seven international and regional awards.”
The guests followed Georgi’s lead swirling, sniffing and tasting the wine. He paused as his guests hummed their delight then offered, “Notice how the curry flavors, the creaminess of the feta, and the wine interplay on your tongue as you sip and bite.”
Georgi left them as they blissfully imbibed and mingled.
After his guests finished their first course, Georgi resumed with exuberance, “Now for our second course, I offer you our local seared Stonington scallops on a bed of spiraled summer squash tossed in Alfredo sauce with grilled asparagus.
“The first of two wines in our tasting earned the famed 94 points. It’s the Descencia Botrytis Chardonnay from the Wölffer Estate Vineyard of Long Island.” Holding the stem of the glass, Georgi, shared his counsel, “This light golden nectar from the vine has classic aromas of ripe fruit, honeysuckle, flinty stones, wonderful yeast notes, and fine toasted oak to fill the nose.” He demonstrated by taking a long sniff and everyone followed his lead.
“When you take a sip,” he encouraged, “you will notice a firm structure and creamy texture with a beautiful honey and toasted almond flavor and a rich seductive mouth-feel. There is a perfect balance of the ripe fruit and the fine skin tannins, all wrapped with fantastic acidity and creamy lees. This finish is powerful, and lingers with great minerality and finesse. Chardonnay is the perfect match for rich fish dishes, risotto, creamy chicken and an array of cheeses. It is best served at 55 degrees Fahrenheit.
“Our next wine option is St. Croix from Maugle Sierra Vineyards in Ledyard, Connecticut. This delightful red wine is selectively hand-picked and cold fermented in small batches. Aged in American and French Oak Barrels it
delivers intense flavors with a smooth finish. This fruit forward red wine finishes in a semi-dry style, revealing unique blackberry, plum and currant flavors showing the delectable characteristics of the St. Croix grape. It is a succulent accompaniment to fine dining and the frivolity that follows.”
Georgi did a quick spin like a lyrical dancer and held one arm out broadly and his guests chuckled. “St.Croix,” he continued, “is best enjoyed as a long summer sip with friends, fine seafood and memorable sunsets, as you are now partaking.”
Each guest chose their preference and enjoyed their delicious serving. He gave them time to imbibe and chat among themselves, while he stole away to say hello to Sam and Roxanne. “You’ve never seen me do a tasting, have you?” he asked.
“No, and you are naturally fabulous,” Roxanne praised him, “You’re so knowledgeable, Georgi!”
“Thank you,” he said demurely, then quickly changed character. “Oh!” he squealed. Sam flinched. “This coffee just arrived. It is roasted on Long Island, an organically grown product from Native Coffee Traders. Are you enjoying it and the dessert? I need to know!”
Sam nodded, “Yes, it’s good, and Roxanne will order a case of the coffee since it’s organic and she wants the recipe for the cupcakes too,” he raised his mug towards her.
Georgi gave her a quick hug and said to them, “I have to return to my audience.” He glided toward the tasting table without hesitation, and rang his little bell to bring them all to attention.
“My dear friends,” he announced, “and we must be friends by now because we have spent a joyful hour together.” The guests nodded in agreement all flush with wine, food and merriment.
Bathing in the adulation Georgi continued, “We have two desserts and three wine selections for you to taste. I know very well that some of you love chocolate, and it is the only dessert for you. For those we have Devil’s Food Cupcakes, all warm and delicious, and for those who want something light and lovely, I have a Lemon Cheese Cake with Blackberry Sauce. In either case, we will now taste and determine which of the three wines you would prefer with your choice of dessert.”