by B R Snow
“Perhaps,” Natalie said, tapping ash off her cigarette.
“Those things will kill you,” Chef Claire said, nodding at the pack.
“In my line of work, cigarettes are way down the list of things that might kill me.”
“Let’s talk about your line of work,” Josie said, glancing around to make sure they were still alone.
“There’s really not much to talk about,” Natalie said. “I used to be a Russian spy. Then I retired and now live in Vegas. But you already know that.”
“Doing work for Hedaya,” Chef Claire said.
“There’s an interesting thought,” Josie said. “But why would the owner of a casino send you here?”
“The reason I’m here has nothing to do with Hedaya,” Natalie said firmly. “As far as Hedaya knows, I’m on vacation in Italy. Which is true.”
“On vacation? With Georgio?” Josie said.
“Yes,” Natalie said, exhaling smoke. “But it’s turning out to be less enjoyable than I had hoped.”
Josie glanced at Chef Claire then stared out at the night sky before continuing.
“Why are you here with Georgio?”
“Because he asked me,” Natalie said. “And I foolishly hoped we might be able to reconnect.”
“Reconnect?” Chef Claire said.
“Yes. A few years ago, we had what could loosely be described as a relationship.”
“But from what we’ve heard, he was hoping to reconnect with Bronwyn,” Chef Claire said.
“So I learned soon after I arrived at the villa,” Natalie said.
“You didn’t know she was going to be here?” Josie said.
“I did not,” Natalie said, taking another long drag. “Imagine my surprise.”
“Why the heck would Georgio do something like that?” Chef Claire said. “It’s so stupid. Not to mention cruel.”
“That’s Georgio,” Natalie said. “A brilliant man with one fatal flaw.”
“I take it you weren’t very happy when you found out she was here,” Josie said.
“Would you be?” Natalie said.
“I’d be a long way from happy,” Josie said.
“I’d probably use my bat on him,” Chef Claire said, then shrugged. “Speaking metaphorically, of course.”
“Of course,” Natalie said, almost cracking a smile.
“Did you happen to confront Bronwyn about it?” Josie said, tossing the question out.
“You can do better than that, Josie,” Natalie said as a small smile finally emerged. “Is that your way of asking me if I killed her?”
“Yeah, probably not my best work,” Josie said. “Actually, I was referring to whether or not the two of you had talked about your common problem.”
“The problem of why it’s impossible for Georgio, to put it in dog parlance, to stay on the porch?” Natalie said.
“Yeah,” Josie said. “That’s the one.”
“No, we did not. In fact, we did our best to avoid each other as much as possible.”
“Who do you think killed her?” Josie said.
“I really don’t have a clue,” Natalie said. “The whole situation is quite bizarre. But to answer the question I know you’re dying to ask, no, it wasn’t me. If I was going to kill anybody this week, it would be Georgio, not her.”
“Fair point,” Josie said, nodding.
“Sure, I get that,” Chef Claire said.
“This is probably going to cross the line,” Josie said. “But I’m going to ask.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Natalie said.
“I seriously doubt that,” Josie said, laughing. “But here goes. Do you know what Georgio does? You know, some of the less-than-legal things he gets involved with?”
“Of course,” she said with a shrug. “How do you think we met?”
“Well, I doubt you met on a dating site,” Chef Claire said.
“Nefarious-singles dot com?” Josie deadpanned.
All three women laughed. Then they noticed Lance approaching. He came to a stop in front of them.
“Commissario Bruno would like to speak with you next,” he said to Natalie.
She got to her feet and slid her pack of cigarettes into her pocket.
“This should be fun,” she said.
“Hey, Natalie,” Chef Claire said.
“Yes?”
“Since we have the afternoon off tomorrow, we thought we’d go for a drive around the lake. You want to join us?”
“That sounds like fun,” Natalie said. “Thank you.” Then she looked at Lance. “How was your conversation with the detective?”
“It was about what you’d expect from a cop,” Lance said, sitting down in the chair Natalie had vacated.
“Yes,” Natalie said. “They all do seem to speak the same language, don’t they?”
Chapter 16
Josie sat quietly waiting for the next question. She checked her watch, realized it was almost eleven and draped a leg over her knee in the hope it would keep her from nodding off. Probably not a good idea to fall asleep during questioning. She pulled a chocolate bar from her pocket and held it out to Commissario Bruno who was sitting across from her reviewing his notes.
“Oh, no, thank you,” he said, waving off her offer.
“It’s good,” Josie said, taking a bite. “It’s Italian.”
“Now, there’s a surprise.”
“Everybody’s a comedian.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist,” he said, sitting back in his chair and studying her closely. “I must say, Ms. Court, you’re remarkably calm. Most people show all kinds of stress and nervousness when they’re being interviewed by the police. But I haven’t picked up a trace from you. Your friend, Chef Claire, reacted exactly the same way. It seems odd.”
“How so?” Josie said, taking another bite of chocolate.
“You being so calm when I’m asking questions about a murder.”
“Well, it’s sort of old hat to us by now,” Josie said with a shrug.
“I beg your pardon?” Commissario Bruno said, immediately on point.
“Let’s just say we’ve been around our share of murders,” Josie said, polishing off the last of the candy bar and stuffing the wrapper into her pocket.
“Really? Do tell.”
“How long have you got?”
Commissario Bruno stared at her then set his pen and pad down on the coffee table in front of him.
“How long do you need?”
“Geez, I don’t know,” Josie said. “A couple of hours at least. But I don’t think any of it is relevant, Commissario.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Josie gave it some thought then nodded and launched into several of what she considered the more colorful examples of her exploits. The detective’s eyes widened as she continued. Eventually, he held up a hand to stop her.
“Hang on,” he said, frowning. “You kidnapped a bunch of roosters?”
“Yes. From an illegal cockfight,” Josie said. “At first, it looked like we might get deported, but it ended up all right in the end.”
“Good for the roosters,” Commissario Bruno. “How many times has something like this happened?”
“Are you talking about the number of people who have died while we were around?”
“I am,” he said, still frowning.
“Well, let’s see,” she said, staring off for a moment. “It has to be coming up on a couple dozen.”
“Two dozen?”
“Give or take,” Josie said. “Now you see why I’m not nervous talking with you.”
“And you solved all of the murders?” he said, baffled.
“Actually, Suzy does most of the work,” Josie said. “She has a gift for this sort of stuff.”
“Suzy?”
“She’s our best friend and business partner. Normally, she’d be here with us, but she’s pregnant and still recovering from her husband’s death.”
“Was he one
of the two dozen?”
“No,” Josie whispered as she blinked back tears. “He got hit by a bus. On their honeymoon.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Commissario Bruno said, then fell silent. Eventually, he picked up his pen and pad. “Why don’t we get back to the situation here?”
“Sure. It’s your interview.”
“I’m beginning to have my doubts,” he said, shaking his head. “Had you ever met the victim before you arrived at the villa?”
“No.”
“What was your impression of her?”
“Whatever impression I did have was superficial,” Josie said. “We only talked a few times.”
“Humor me,” Commissario Bruno said.
“Well, she seemed very self-absorbed,” Josie said.
“How so?”
“You saw her. She obviously spent a ton of time working on her appearance. But that, by itself, didn’t make her self-absorbed.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said.
“But she was constantly taking selfies,” Josie said. “It seemed like every time she did anything, she had to capture the moment. It didn’t take long for it to get very annoying.”
“So, her habit of taking pictures of herself annoyed you?”
“Nice try, Commissario,” Josie said, laughing. “I said I got annoyed, not slipped into a murderous rage.”
“Fair enough,” he said, grinning at her. “Is there anything else about her you remember?”
“She seemed…unsettled.”
“How so?”
“It was like she was questioning some of the choices she had made,” Josie said.
“Like her choice of husband?” he said, reaching for the notepad.
“How could she not question that one? The guy’s a total jerk.”
“No comment.”
“You don’t need to comment, Commissario,” Josie said. “I’m sure you had him pegged as a jerk as soon as he opened his mouth.”
“Again, I’ll refrain from comment,” he said. “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill Mrs. Kingsley?”
“With all due respect, I think I’ll keep whatever thoughts I have about what is going on around here to myself, Commissario.”
“What makes you think there’s something going on?”
“You mean, apart from the dead woman who was found poisoned in the dining room?”
“Fair point,” he said, nodding. “So, you do have some ideas?”
“I have mostly questions and vague notions at this point.”
“I sense hesitancy on your part to get involved,” he said, tapping the notepad with his pen.
“Commissario, I’m here to learn how to be a better cook,” Josie said. “And a woman was just murdered. You said yourself you don’t have any idea what kind of poison it was. The last thing I want is to start sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong and end up being the next person getting a dose of perfumed poison.”
“Perfumed?”
“It’s a figure of speech, Commissario,” Josie said. “Try not to read too much into it.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to tell me more about your theories?”
“Sorry, Commissario,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Figuring out who killed Bronwyn is your job.”
“I see,” he said, sliding his notepad into his shirt pocket. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You suddenly need permission?”
“This question isn’t about the murder,” he said.
“Okay. Sure, go ahead,” Josie said.
“Are you currently involved with anyone?” Commissario Bruno said, gently tossing the question out.
“Are you flirting with me, Commissario?” Josie said, grinning at him.
The detective flushed red with embarrassment then coughed nervously.
“I guess what they say about American women is true,” he said eventually.
“What’s that?” Josie said.
“That you don’t pull any punches,” he said.
“There didn’t seem to be any need, Commissario,” Josie said, laughing. “You were about as subtle as a truck.”
“I apologize,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s okay,” Josie said. “And to answer you, no, I’m not involved with anyone at the moment.”
“Perhaps we could have dinner sometime?” he said. “There are some wonderful restaurants in the area.”
“I’m leaving in a few days, Commissario,” Josie said. “And even if we did end up getting along, I don’t do long distance. It’s too hard.”
“Then we can just keep things casual, right?” he said.
“I don’t do casual, Commissario,” Josie said. “But thanks for the offer. You’re a very nice man.”
“Thank you,” he said, deflated. “Well, I think we’re about done here.”
“Okay,” Josie said, getting to her feet and extending her hand. “Nice talking with you.”
“I hope to see you again. Under more pleasant circumstances,” he said, returning the handshake.
“You never know,” she said. “Oh, by the way, we’re going for a drive tomorrow afternoon. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“It’s fine,” he said. “As long as you don’t leave the area until we give you the go ahead.”
“Got it,” Josie said.
“And if you change your mind, be sure and let me know,” Commissario Bruno said.
“Change my mind?” she said. “About going out with you or talking about who might have killed Bronwyn?”
“Why both, of course,” he said, beaming at her.
“You’ll be the first to know, Commissario,” she said, giving him an over the shoulder finger wave on her way out of the room.
Musings While I Wander
Italy in October – 3
My original plan was to write this post yesterday, but I got a bit distracted. I won’t bore you with the details. Today, I’m going to share a couple of basic recipes I think should be part of everyone’s Italian repertoire. Both polenta and risotto are regional staples. Risotto, in particular, holds a high place in Northern Italy cuisine and there’s an endless list of variations and ingredients that can be added. The same goes for polenta, a dish similar to grits in the manner it’s prepared. But the main ingredient is different. Polenta is made from ground yellow corn while grits are made from ground white corn, also known as hominy.
They are often featured as main courses here in Italy but are frequently used as side dishes in other places, especially in the States. As such, I thought I’d share a few basic recipes to get you started. Give them both a try if you haven’t already done so. I think they’ll add some delicious variety to your cooking. I suggest you make them pretty much as outlined below the first few times, and after you’ve mastered the basics, feel free to experiment to your heart’s content.
Polenta
Ingredients
4 cups water
1 teaspoon fine salt
1 cup polenta
3 tablespoons butter
divided1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, plus more for garnish
Instructions
Bring water and salt to a boil in a large saucepan. Pour polenta slowly into boiling water, constantly whisking until all polenta is stirred in. You’re looking for a consistency with no lumps.
Reduce heat to low and simmer, whisk often until the polenta starts to thicken, about 5 minutes. Polenta mixture should still be slightly loose.
Cover and cook for 30 minutes, whisking every 5 to 6 minutes. If polenta is too thick to whisk, stir with a wooden spoon. Polenta is done when the texture is creamy, and the individual grains are tender.
Turn off heat and add 2 tablespoons butter into polenta until butter partially melts.
Add ½ cup of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese into polenta until cheese has melted.
Cover and let stand 5 minutes to thicken then stir and taste for salt before transferring to a serv
ing bowl.
Top polenta with remaining butter and sprinkle grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese for garnish.
Risotto Parmigiano
Ingredients
1 ½ cups arborio rice
5 cups chicken stock
½ cup dry white wine
1 medium shallot or 1/2 small onion, chopped
3 tablespoons whole butter
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
½ cup Parmesan cheese (grated)
1 tablespoon Italian parsley (chopped)
Salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
Heat the stock in a medium saucepan, then lower the heat. (But make sure the stock stays hot.)
In a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat the oil and 1 tablespoon of the butter over medium heat. When the butter has melted, add the chopped shallot or onion. Sauté until slightly translucent. (About 2-3 minutes.)
Add the rice and stir briskly with a wooden spoon until grains are coated with the oil and melted butter. Sauté for another minute or so, until you pick up a slightly nutty smell.
Add the wine and cook while stirring, until the liquid is fully absorbed.
Add a ladle of hot chicken stock to the rice and stir until the liquid is fully absorbed. When the rice appears almost dry, add another ladle of stock and repeat the process.
Keep stirring to prevent scorching, and add the next ladle of stock as soon as the rice is almost dry.
Continue adding stock, one ladle at a time, for 20 to 30 minutes or until the rice tender but firm to the bite. (If it’s crunchy, it’s not ready.)
If you run out of stock before the risotto is done, you can finish the process using hot water, one ladle at a time. Keep stirring.
Stir in the rest of the butter, the Parmesan, and the parsley, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Or you can sprinkle the parsley and more Parmesan, if desired, as a garnish before serving.
OR!
If you want to eliminate the need to stand over your stove stirring until your arms ache, try this idea. It’s certainly not the most traditional method of making risotto, but I won’t tell if you won’t.
Saute the onion in butter as outlined above in a large, oven-safe casserole dish with a cover.
Add the wine and four cups of the chicken stock along with the rice.