The Death of a Celebrity Chef

by Kee Patterbee

  “Hi, I’m from Serling University and I’m doing a piece for our paper on Julia Karas. I was wondering if I could get copies of the original police report that was filed when she died.”

  The receptionist looked Hannah over. “Aren’t you a little old to be working on a school paper?”

  “Never too old for a second chance.” Hannah gave a cheerful expression.

  With a mixture of disgust and blasé in her voice, the receptionist looked at Hannah’s laptop and the hat. Shaking her head, she opened a desk drawer to produce a thumb drive, which she pushed to Hannah. “It’s our most requested file. You can make a copy here at the desk.” Taking the thumb drive, Hannah popped it into her laptop and downloaded the file. Once completed, she returned the drive to the receptionist. She exited the station.

  Once outside, though the air was brisk, she found a small bench in the park across the way from the station. She once again opened her computer, located the file, and opened it. Glancing over it, she clicked off details in her head, and arranged them for later recollection as she needed them. “Police arrived 7:53 hours. Single investigating officer: Alexander Borg. Place of incident: Decedent’s home. Rear of property abutting Lake Riesen. Specific to gazebo at water’s edge. Cause of injury: Speculative at present time. Findings suggest decedent struck head on gazebo frame post, fell into the water. Body discovered by secondary party in the water the following morning around 7:10 hours. Clothing: Pink nightgown. Valuables: One gold necklace with a small key. No sign of alcohol or drugs. Last seen alive 20:30 hours by decedent’s spouse. Manner of Death: Pending.”

  The lack of an immediate cause of death gave Hannah pause. Why had the attending officer listed it as pending? Why not accident, suicide, homicide, or indeterminate?

  “Pending. Pending.” She tumbled the word through her mind, contemplating. Then it hit her. “He had questions.” Satisfied with her answer, she returned to the report. Locating the section for Forensic Findings, Hannah sharpened her focus. Toxicology reaffirmed no alcohol found in Julia’s system, but the terms of the autopsy struck her as odd. The family, meaning Asa, agreed to the procedure before its initiation, which was standard. The examiner bypassed a full or limited autopsy in favor of an external exam. More so, the Visual Inspection section of the report showed Julia as having several injuries to the left side of her face. Written in bold letters was the words blunt force trauma.

  Hannah shook her head to clear it. Something was wrong. She knew the indicated impact might show minimal injuries such as external bruising. This was due to the elasticity of the skin. Such an injury could affect deeper, more solid tissues such as the skull and brain, fracturing or lacerating. Thus, it warranted a more in-depth investigation. They should have at least done a limited autopsy.

  A flood of new questions came to mind for Hannah. These questions perturbed her. The report was brief and full of odd decisions. She first needed to work through them and second, needed a course of action.

  She worked on the puzzle in her brain for a few minutes. The chill in the air began bothering her, so she returned to the station. Seeing her again, the receptionist sighed, “Yes?”

  “Alexander Borg. Is he in?”

  “Sorry, he retired eleven months ago.”

  Right after the autopsy, Hannah thought. Interesting. She filed the information. “Well, does he live around here?”

  “He moved north of here.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have the address, would you?”

  The receptionist stared at Hannah with a blank face before returning to work on the computer. A moment later, she pulled out a pen and wrote on a small sticky note. She handed it to Hannah. “It’s fair ways, about three hours or so. Up in Eagleson County.”

  Hannah produced a humble smile. “Thank you.” She headed for the outside. Returning to her rental car, she typed the address into the onboard navigation system. “A hundred and forty-seven miles,” she mumbled once the system engaged. “Good deal.” She called Cate to let them know she would be getting back late and headed out.

  As she traveled along the interstate toward her destination, Hannah found herself relieved. Cate and Buster had chosen to attend the festival with Louie, rather than come along on her investigative excursion. It would give her time to think things over without distraction. She began with the accident report. Strangely, given Julia's celebrity status, it was short. It did not answer much and caused Hannah to question the thoroughness of the investigation.

  Driving along, she thought through all the problems that came to mind. Why hadn’t someone asked more questions about marital issues? What about her aversion to water and night blindness in relation to the location of the body? Why was she in her nightclothes? Why was she in the gazebo alone? Why was there a faulty handrail on a multimillion-dollar estate? Why didn’t the groundskeeper notice and have it repaired? There was the coroner’s report that said little to nothing. Then came two larger questions. First, if this were no accident, who had the most to gain by Julia’s death? Second, how did they pull off the murder?

  For a solid year, the investigation had gone unchallenged. The right questions were not asked, nor were they answered. Having involved herself, Hannah vowed to correct the situation for Louie, Vera, and Julia. Vera’s right, she thought to herself. She does deserve better.

  Hannah arrived at the address about three hours later. She was not prepared for the name on the sign, Eagleson Cancer Care Alliance. Her initial idea was the primary officer in the investigation had retired. He moved over conflicts with the findings. Now, she saw the true cause.

  Parking before the main building, she approached the information desk. A pleasant young woman looked up and smiled.

  “Here to see one of our guests?”

  “Yes, Mr. Alexander Borg, please.”

  “May I tell him whose calling on him?”

  “Hannah Starvling.”

  The young woman looked at her computer screen before calling over one of the assistants and asking him to show Hannah the way.

  Hannah followed down a long hall that ended in what appeared to be a communal area. Upon entering, the assistant pointed to a man playing cards with several other men. Hannah sized him up. He was in his fifties, frail and of average height with grayish thinning hair with a hawkish nose and close-set eyes. Dressed in a gray sweat suit, he was intense and focused on the game. In many ways, he reminded her of a younger version of her late maternal grandfather, Jackson Quinn. Like an eagle, she thought to herself as she approached him with a smile and extended hand.

  “Hi, Mr. Borg, my name is Hannah Starvling.”

  Borg looked up from his game and peered at her. His eyes were dark and lean, but distant. He took her hand and shook it. “Hi, yourself.”

  “If I could have a moment in private, please, that would be great.”

  “Okay, I’m wrapping up here, anyway.” He pointed across the table to an old black man. “Thaddeus there has wiped me out for the day, anyway.” Thaddeus smiled and gave Borg a two-finger Boy Scout type salute. “Catch you boys later,” Borg added, rising from the table.

  “Later, Alex.” Thaddeus rose as everyone else issued their goodbyes.

  Borg led Julia away from the group to a corner where no one was sitting and offered her a chair. After settling in, he pointed to her hat.

  “Interesting hat and gizmo you got there.”

  Hannah removed the hat and goggles and handed them to the man. Looking them over, he fiddled with the lens. “What can I do for you, young lady?”

  “I work for a family member of Julia Karas. It has come to our attention that there is new evidence in the case.”

  Without looking at Hannah, Borg removed the goggles and studied them. “Is that so?” He let a beat pass before continuing. “I am glad to hear that. I was never satisfied with the findings in that woman’s demise.”

  “Why is that?”

  Borg held the lens up to his eyes and peered through them. Bringing Hannah back into
view, he answered. “Well, there wasn’t a lot of cooperation from anyone: the family, staff, or security. They appeared scared to come forward with any information. I took it as an internal thing. A family with that much wealth and power… well, they handle things a little different, if you know what I mean.”

  His candor surprised Hannah, but she was thankful for it. His direct, curious manner was a breath of fresh air. She watched as he carefully put the goggles back on the hat. He handed the combination back to Hannah. “Interesting, I like them.”

  As he further explained his suspicions, she grew even more skeptical of the police and coroner’s reports. When Borg had finished, Hannah knew that she was on the right track. “I couldn’t agree with you more. It all seems to lack something. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I was hoping you could help me fill in some blanks.”

  “I’ll do what I can. The memory is not what it used to be. Meds and all. Thinking about that case, sometimes at night, I wrestle with it in my head. Kind of like the fish that got away.”

  The man was prone to metaphors. It was something that Hannah could appreciate. “Well, maybe you and I can reel it in together.”

  “Deal.”

  “You were among the first on the scene. What can you tell me about the body’s condition?”

  “Well, to me it seemed she had to have died before she hit the water. She’d hit that post with a lot of force. The wound was considerable. All along the forehead and side of her face.” Borg drew an imaginary line along his face for comparison. “I remember thinking, if it’s this bad on the outside…” Borg began coughing and Hannah rose to go get a nurse, but he waved her down. “It’ll pass. It always does.” A few moments later, he proved himself right. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes, the body. The bruising showed through, even though she was pale and rather bluish. It’s common in water victims that have floated for some time. Anyway, there was no way for me to know if there was water in her lungs. I’m sure there was some. The question is, was it enough?” Borg shrugged his shoulders.

  “Well, I do know that after a person dies, and the air is gone from their lungs, water does get in.”

  “Yeah, I read that somewhere before the case. New finding, but it takes a long time. Many, many hours as I understand it. But I keep coming back to the fact that the water was so damn cold. I remember because it wasn’t natural for the time of year. She had been in there about seven and a half hours by the time the fellow who worked the grounds pulled her to the bank. The coroner concluded her death was by accidental drowning after hitting her head on the frame support. Phhpptt. I don’t buy it. Not now. Not ever.”

  “What did you do after you made your initial report?”

  “You understand I had no hard proof. I was going on gut instinct. Something you develop over years of police work.”

  Though she said nothing, Hannah understood this. Although investigations are fact based, experience comes into play. And after twenty-nine years on the force, she was following her instinct that the retired lawman’s gut was dead on.

  “I knew there was something not quite right. I tried to rattle a few cages, family, the staff, but no one would budge. Pressure started to mount for me to close the case. They wanted closure, given who she was. With no evidence, I had to wrap it up and move on. Even in a small town like Zebulon, there are other crimes to handle.” Looking at Hannah, Borg smiled. “But I’m glad someone decided to look into it. That woman, someone murdered her. As sure as I’m sitting here, someone took her life.”

  Hannah returned Borg’s smile. “Thank you. You’ve been a big help.” She rose to leave but took the time to ask another question. “Was there anyone you wanted to look more closely at but never got the chance?”

  “Yeah, the manager.”

  “Jack Miller?”

  “That’s the one. He’s a piece of work. For a man who had lost his number one client, he showed a noticeable lack of concern, sympathy, or mourning. She made him millions, but he seemed unaffected. That surprised me because when you lose your bread and butter, it should affect you, at least a little. He came across as arrogant, thought he was irresistible to women.” Borg paused for a second before he shook his head and coughed hard. “I don’t know. People react to death in different ways. There was nothing specific. I never cared for his sort of people.”

  Hannah leaned toward the man and pointed at his abdomen. “What does that gut of yours say?”

  Borg chuckled. “Well, I can’t say he is a killer, but I can say he didn’t care about helping us get to the bottom of this incident. My unofficial opinion was that he was trouble of some sort. You’re going to find his fingerprints in the pie at some point along the way.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. Would you do a fellow investigator a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  “Find out who did it and let me know. After a year, I could use a good night’s rest. I don’t get many of those these days.”

  “Will do.” With that, Hannah departed.

  Chapter Nine

  “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Louie called from the kitchen as Hannah opened the door. “We were about to send out the posse.”

  Full of licks and love, Critic greeted her. After removing her jacket and hat, she provided him with the attention he sought. As she made her way to the kitchen, she found her friends putting out food. “Perfect timing.” Buster winked. “Spaghettiiiiiiiiii!”

  “Ooooh, is that garlic bread? Smells awesome.”

  Hannah took a seat and watched as Louie, Cate, and Buster scurried around the kitchen. Feeling the weight of the day’s activities, she stretched and rubbed her eyes as Cate sat a plate before her. “You look beat.”

  “Long drive.”

  “Did you find out anything?”

  “Well, the police report was interesting more for what it didn’t say than what it did. The man who signed off on the report, Alexander Borg, retired after this case and moved. He’s living in a cancer center north of here. That’s where I’ve been all day. Getting some answers.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” Louie placed a salad bowl on the table. “That’s a tough haul. Anything come of it?”

  “Not from the report. I didn’t expect it to. Remember, as far as the law goes, the ruling is that it’s an accident. There was no criminal investigation.”

  “What about this Borg fellow?”

  “Well, he’s interesting. He suspects a cover up, but at the time, he couldn’t do anything about it. Zebulon is a town of limited resources. He had no proof and was under pressure to close the case.” Hannah looked over to Louie and paused. “He thinks she was dead before she hit the water.”

  Louie stood up straight, took in a noticeable breath, but remained silent. His face was almost expressionless as he turned back toward the kitchen counter. Although she had offered nothing in the way of evidence, her statement had hit him hard. The fact yet another person suspected foul play in the death of his beloved Julia was enough to upset him. Whether his concern was the confirmation of the way she passed, or the chance he had something to do with it, Hannah was uncertain. She did not want to consider the latter. She knew she had to consider an inkling of a possibility. Let the facts play out, she reminded herself, no matter how painful the consequence may be.

  “This was a police report, right?” Cate placed a large bowl of spaghetti in the center of the table. “What about the coroner’s report?”

  “I haven’t gotten hold of it nor a tox report yet. A summary of both findings carried over into the police report, but it’s of limited value. I got a copy on my thumb drive, much to the chagrin of the police receptionist. Y’all can take a look at it if you want.”

  Looking at the spaghetti, Hannah licked her lips. Noticing, Buster pushed the bowl toward her. “Dig in.”

  She dug into the steaming pile, heaping a large mound on her plate. “I’m starving.” A large smile scrolled across her face. “What was the day like over at the e
vent?”

  “Loved it!” Buster passed Hannah a plate full of bread. “Jazlyn was there and gave us passes to Friday’s taping of the show. She asked me to come.”

  Poking around her salad, Cate stabbed a small cherry tomato. She lifted it up to study it as she spoke. “That surprises me. She sent mixed signals, didn’t she?” She popped the small red food bit into her mouth.

  “I suppose. She was all flirty, but that Miller guy showed up.” Buster stared at his plate. “I figured I misread the situation, but she gave me her card, now the passes, and now a personal invite.” His eyes darted around the table. “Got any parmesan?”

  Louie nodded and pointed to the refrigerator. “Second shelf in a blue container. Already grated.” Returning to the conversation, he twirled his fork in the noodles. “I’d be careful of that one. She wants to get a piece of you. When she’s done, she’ll spit you out.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. No one trusts her.”

  “Just watching out for you, darling,” Cate called out as she once again took on her salad.

  Hannah grinned at them all. Despite having conflicted reservations about Louie, she loved the company of this group. That created the guilt she felt about including her new friend on the list of suspects. They were easy to understand and even easier to get along with. Even when teased like Buster, there was a sense of camaraderie. It made her determined to remain focused, especially when it came to her new friend. Glancing over at him, she thought, I pray you are as nice as you seem. Otherwise, I might lose a friend or two. The thought disturbed her, so she pushed it aside for the moment. “Did anyone see Vera?”

  “She wasn’t around,” Cate responded. “I think they've been keeping her from the public's eye to let Jazlyn shine.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Louie added, reaching for the bread. Taking a piece, he continued, gesturing toward the living room. “Her resemblance to Julia is clear to you because of the pictures you saw, but most people know Julia as she was when she was on the show. Not from her college years. She looked different in those days. However, if people saw her, with all the retrospectives going on, they might see her as an imitation Julia. A publicity stunt. The potential backlash, well, it might upset Asa’s plans.”