The Christie Curse

by Victoria Abbott

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I FACED VERA across the breakfast table in the conservatory. Today’s special was fragrant fresh sweet rolls. I knew that there’d be eggs to follow and who knew what else. “I have your money.”

  She lifted her gaze from the New York Times. “I want it back.”

  “I’m sure you do, but there are terms.”

  She roared. “What do you mean terms? It’s my money.”

  “There’s no real proof of that.”

  “My word is good enough.”

  “Sure, it’s your word in addition to my four conditions.”

  “I said, no terms.”

  “Fine. I’ll turn the cash over to the police. It will get tied up as evidence for years as this is probably going to take a long time to wind through the courts. Of course, there’s no proof it’s yours, so they may never turn it over.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch me.” Not only would Vera hate having her money tied up, but for reasons of pride and self-preservation, she also wouldn’t want word to get out that she’d been ripped off.

  I accepted a cup of espresso from the signora, who was uncharacteristically quiet. I smiled at her and told myself never to get on her bad side.

  In the end Vera agreed to make a donation to a charity of Alex’s parents’ choice in his memory and to provide some financial assistance to Karen.

  I said, “Third, from now on, you will treat me with respect.”

  She almost choked on my fourth and final condition.

  * * *

  TWO WEEKS LATER, the grand dining room was all done up for a festive occasion, something that had been missing in the Van Alst house for too many years. But no longer. The table was set for thirteen, and the dinner party was in full swing. Vera Van Alst was fulfilling condition number four, reluctantly, but so what. We had a lot to celebrate. The many things that some of our guests had to mourn were set aside for the evening.

  The ornate Royal Crown Derby china gleamed in the softly glowing light from four large silver candelabras set with high beeswax tapers. I’d managed to hook up a small music system, which was now playing some soft background music, although conversation was drowning it out. I was feeling very party-like in my emerald-green vintage Christian Dior party dress with its deep and dramatic neckline and swirly skirt.

  As part of condition number four (host a dinner and be pleasant and hospitable for the duration of the event), Vera was doing her best not to glower. I had presented her with a silk blouse in royal blue. It went with the china and flattered her skin tones. She’d seemed pleased. Cyndi from Scissors on Wheels! had styled her hair, and I had bullied her into wearing lipstick. I’d placed Uncle Mick next to her at the far end. I figured those were dollar signs and not stars in his eyes. Vera, like so many women before her, was smitten. Maybe it was the ginger eyebrows or the gold chain nestled in the chest hair. Whatever, Vera had ignored the eggplant, mint and hot pepper salad and the roast veggie and farro salad. I can attest that both were fabulous. Eddie sat across from Mick, watching him like I might watch a tarantula. I’d put him there to be near Vera. I hadn’t predicted that the Irish charm would work on her. Eddie wasn’t used to being at the table, and now he was too heartsick to eat.

  I felt bad about that, especially as I’d learned late in the game that his only reason for talking to Karen Smith at the book fair had been to find a special gift for Vera. Unrequited love. What can I say?

  Speaking of Karen, she was finally well enough to go out. In fact we’d delayed the dinner until she could join us. She was still pale and rail thin, but even so, practically delirious to be invited to dinner at the Van Alst house. She also seemed tickled to be seated next to Detective Zinger, who was ostensibly there to question some witnesses and had been encouraged to stay to dinner. We wanted to avoid the appearance of a conflict.

  The Fines were not completely comfortable with Vera, although they had come to accept that she wasn’t responsible for Alex’s death, or completely unfeeling about it. The donation in Alex’s memory had done the trick. I’d placed Officer Tyler Dekker in between them. That had been a good seating choice.

  Earlier I’d even considered inviting George and Jeannette Beckwith. I felt a bit guilty about suspecting them of complicity with “Merlin.” But when I’d mentioned this to Karen, she reminded me that even if he was not guilty, George could be a serious jerk.

  Signora Panetone swooped around the room in her glory. She had reluctantly agreed to us hiring some help to serve, but she’d made every mouthful herself. A lot of food would be eaten. The main course was game birds with a creamy garlicky polenta. Uncle Lucky stared at it with suspicion. What kind of can had this come from? He’d barely recovered from the risotto with saffron and mussels. Seated next to him, Miss Orsini, who was almost as quiet as Lucky, leaned over and whispered an explanation. I’d only invited the physiotherapist because I felt guilty about my false accusation, but it was already paying off in Uncle Lucky’s continuing education.

  Walter was parked next to Lucky, glancing meaningfully at his red dog bowl. The signora had already fed him at least once, but dogs are always optimistic that there will be more. Both cats stared daggers at him from their entitled perch on the priceless sideboard.

  Karen leaned across the table and said to Uncle Lucky, “You don’t know how grateful I am that you are willing to keep Walter. The doctor has said it might take months for me to fully recover, and I was so afraid I would have to send him to a shelter. This is a huge weight off my mind.”

  Uncle Lucky flinched at the word “shelter.” Walter stared bug-eyed. Lucky uncle and lucky dog.

  A hiss was clearly heard from the sideboard. Can’t please everyone.

  I was shoulder to shoulder (and knee to knee) with Lance, a payoff itself. It wasn’t how I’d devised the seating, but someone had switched my hand-lettered place cards. And across from me I had a fine view of the baby blues and blushing cheeks of Officer Tyler “Smiley” Dekker and the Fines doting on him. Mrs. Fine was saying, “We hope you will be able to join us for Christmas dinner this year. We would like that so much.”

  At the end of the table, to my right, in my usual place, was the empty chair for our symbolic guest, Agatha Christie, the Queen of Crime.

  Once the torta di miele and custard were served and twelve small glasses of Limoncello filled, I stood. “I’d like to make a toast to Agatha Christie, without whose guidance and ideas Brian Underwood and Ashley Snell would have gotten away with murder. I never thought I’d be wrapped up in a mystery like Poirot and Miss Marple.”

  Everyone rose, even Vera. Glasses were raised.

  “To Agatha!”

  “Eat!” the signora thundered.

  And of course, we did.

  RECIPES

  SIGNORA PANETONE’S MUSHROOM RISOTTO

  1 onion, finely chopped

  2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley

  1 clove garlic, finely chopped

  2 tablespoons butter

  1⁄8 cup dried porcini mushrooms, soaked in warm water for a half hour, drained and liquid reserved

  11⁄2 cups Arborio rice (or other short-grain Italian rice)

  31⁄2 to 4 cups boiling hot chicken stock (can use vegetable stock)

  1⁄2 pound mushrooms, sliced

  2–3 tablespoons fresh Parmesan, grated

  Sauté the onion, parsley and garlic in one tablespoon of butter until soft (and onion is translucent).

  Dry the porcini, then chop porcini and add to the other ingredients. Add rice and stir. Do not allow it to brown!

  Add the stock slowly, by half cups. Stir and allow the rice to absorb the liquid. Keep stirring. Risotto is all about the stirring. Luckily, it’s good exercise. When the rice is half-cooked (around ten minutes) add the reserved liquid and the sliced mushrooms. Stir for another ten minutes or until rice is soft and the mushrooms are tender. Do not overcook or your rice will be mushy.

  Remove from heat and add the re
st of the butter and the cheese.

  Let it stand for about five minutes and serve.

  SIGNORA PANETONE’S TRADITIONAL TUSCAN TOMATO AND BREAD SALAD (PANZANELLA)

  2 large ripe tomatoes, cut into bite-sized pieces

  1 small red onion, finely diced

  1 clove garlic, very finely minced

  1 cup fresh basil leaves, shredded (or rolled and sliced)

  1⁄2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more as needed

  3 tablespoons red wine vinegar, plus more as needed

  Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  About eight slices thick country-style Italian bread or sourdough bread torn into bite-sized pieces. Bread should not be fresh! If it’s too dry, soak it in water, and then squeeze dry.

  In a bowl, combine the tomatoes, onion, garlic and basil. Drizzle with the half cup of olive oil and three tablespoons of vinegar, season with salt and pepper and toss well.

  Place half of the bread in a wide, shallow bowl. Spoon half of the tomato mixture over the bread. Layer the remaining bread on top and then the remaining tomato mixture. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour or until serving time. Just before serving, toss the salad and adjust the seasonings with salt and pepper. At this point the bread should have absorbed the water from the tomatoes. You can add a little bit of olive oil if necessary and toss well. Serve immediately.

  Sometimes the signora likes to break with tradition and toss in some slices of buffalo mozzarella or other soft cheese or else one small cucumber, peeled and diced. Even though it is not part of the signora’s family tradition, many people do add cukes, and she does like to change it up.

  SIGNORA PANETONE’S CREAMY POLENTA WITH GARLIC AND CHEESE

  1 cup coarse yellow cornmeal, stone ground is best

  3 cups chicken or vegetable broth

  1⁄2 to 1 clove garlic, finely minced

  3⁄4 to 1 cup milk or cream (depending on your diet)

  2 to 3 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Butter or olive oil

  In a bowl, mix cornmeal with one cup of cold broth and blend well. Bring remaining two cups to a boil add the mixture to it, slowly, stirring well as you go. Boil for three minutes (don’t forget to stir), then add garlic and salt and pepper.

  Reduce heat to medium low and cook until mixture pulls away from the sides of the pot. Stir in milk or cream. Cook until soft and creamy (10—20 minutes). Stir every now and then. Stir in cheese and adjust seasoning.

  Serve like mashed potatoes, adding butter if you want or drizzle with very good extra-virgin olive oil.