Chef's Special Ch. 02

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Phyllis eats up the clues as the investigation continues.
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/22/2017
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This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 5 - The Crime Scene

"Molly! Phyllis!" shouted Tanya, taking charge. "Get everyone out of the kitchen! Shut it down! German! Secure the doors! No one leaves or enters!"

Molly rushed into the back as Tanya stood watch over the mortal remains of Lauren Fogle. Tanya was on her cellphone, making calls to her Crime Lab.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Everyone!" shouted Lt. Evans. "Drop what you are doing and come into the main room. Now!"

"What?! We have a competition!" complained René Descartes.

"Yeah, we can't leave, we're up next!" snarled Alton Gordon.

"You heard the Officer!" shouted Bruno Mensch, who had come in with Molly. "SHUT IT DOWN! Stop arguing with the Police! Turn off the stoves and ovens! Leave everything where it is!"

Everyone was shocked, but finally complied. When they got to the main room, they learned what the problem was.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

State Crime Lab personnel got there quickly. So did J.R. Barnes and Christina Cho of the TCPD's Lab/CSI unit, per their contract with Nextdoor County. NCPD Officers had the Lakeside Inn & Suites locked down, forcing Bettina Wurtzburg and the KXTC crew to remain outside.

All of the food and drink at the table was confiscated for testing. So was just about everything in the kitchen areas.

"Got something!" said Christina Cho as she was processing a refrigerator against the far wall. It was an epi-pen, recently used, the needle sticking out.

"Bag that and process it, first priority." said Tanya to one of her techs. A videocamera recorded Christina processing it then handing it off to the tech.

Meanwhile, Martha the M.E. was on the scene, doing a preliminary examination of the body as all the guests were escorted to the room next door for questioning.

"Nothing obvious, so far." said Martha. "Some kind of poison is my first, very uneducated guess. I'll search for needle marks when I get her on the table for the autopsy."

"We're going to be busy analyzing food and drink samples." said Tanya as she watched.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

High noon, Friday, June 23d. Cindy and I were in a meeting with FBI 'Team Lazarus' at the Federal Building. The meeting was being led by Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone.

"The violence in most of the country is winding down." said Muscone. "The Media is getting bored with the story, and not really covering it, so most of the participants are peeling off and going back to their normal lives."

"I wonder what the Media will do next to gin up interest again." mused Lindy Linares.

"I got some word," said Martin Nash, "that the investigation of the Jasmine Nix shooting is going to be questioned. People loyal to 'Big Ice' are pushing a narrative that their man Jackson was set up. The City Coroner's report said there were residues of drugs in his system, and they don't mean cocaine or heroin."

"What's the response to that?" asked Jack.

Cindy spoke up. "The Media is ignoring it, for now." she said. "If the Coroner were to have an open Inquest, they might pick it back up. But for now the sense is the country is getting 'news fatigue' about it all, and they're tuning out. The Media is looking for new stories and fresh blood."

I might need to add that Cindy's source for this was the lovely Priya Ajmani, who might've joined Cindy and Callie for a hot lesbian threesome the night before. Cindy had not told me that, though, so I couldn't be 'on the record' about it. I did know that Priya was getting disgruntled about John Hardwood getting to cover more of the major stories while she, Priya, was relegated to stories about the Ladies Auxiliary and pet adoptions.

"Interesting." said Muscone. "Okay, moving along, so we can get to lunch and the double cheeseburgers faster: we, meaning the FBI, have been cleaning up the Superior Bloodlines residues all over the place. The 'Polar Bears' in California have been arrested almost as one body, and the White Roots people in eastern Tennessee have scattered or run into the mountains. They're no longer a functioning body. We've seized millions of dollars and tons of property under the RICO Act and other laws."

"Who is our new boss going to be?" asked Sandra Speer.

"Dana Fox. As the Iron Crowbar predicted." said Muscone. "That's the good news. The bad news is this: while our Team was hunting down the White Supremacy groups, the Deputy Director was my direct boss. Now that he's retiring, we're being put under Fox, but he's going be an Assistant Director... two levels down from Deputy Director." (Author's note: the level in between is 'Executive Assistant Director'). "So we're not important, anymore."

"Until Washington, D.C. needs the Iron Crowbar again." said Cindy. Everyone laughed, though I knew she was being as serious as a heart attack. Muscone's beady eyes glanced in her general direction.

"Until then." he said agreeably. "The best news is that Fox has said he wants to keep 'Team Lazarus' together."

Just then three cellphones went off: Muscone's, Cindy's, and mine. My call was from my mother, Cindy's from Molly, and Jack's from Tanya.

"Hi, Mom." I said. "I'm in a big meeting, so---" I then heard Cindy said "Oh really?" and Jack say "Oh, wow."

"Mom..." I said, trying to get a word in edgewise. "I'm in a meeting... I'm sure it is interesting, but... no, I can't... okay, I'll see if I can get over there in a couple of hours... no, and besides, you're there... a couple of hours, Mom... okay, bye."

"Murder at the Lakeside Inn?" asked Cindy. Jack nodded, as did I.

"I don't want to sound like I'm bitching, folks," I said, tapping my fingers one by one as I counted the items off verbally: "but Captain Perlman is there, Lt. Evans is there, Lt. Price is there, Detective German is there, and most important of all, my mother is there. So why in the hell are they calling me?"

"Molly says it's unusual, and we'd like to see it." Cindy said.

"Tanya says you might see something that even your mother would overlook." Jack Muscone said.

"My mother did not overlook a damn thing when I was growing up." I said. "And she's better than me in the observation and deduction department."

"So are you going over there?" asked Lindy, with the intent of making trouble, and succeeding.

"Not until my Iron Belly is full of double cheeseburgers and fries." I said, which drew laughs.

"Well, you've effectively ended this meeting. Now I'm all hungry." said Muscone. "We'll reconvene at the Cop Bar...

Part 6 - Investigation

"Vanessa Brunson and Hercule Le Fleur want to know if the competition tomorrow is still on." said Lt. Paul Price of the Nextdoor County Police as he came back into the room. "They had a dead chef on the floor... and all they can think about is if tomorrow's competition is still on. Unbelievable."

The room had been cleared of all but law enforcement personnel. Lt. Price was in charge, as he was the NCPD equivalent of the MCD leader. Molly was Vice, but obviously wasn't going to leave now that she was here. Meanwhile, Price seemed to be very deferential to Captain Perlman and State Agent Troy.

"We should not be hasty in canceling it." said Phyllis. "The autopsy and early data may give us the clues we need to make an arrest, and then their show can go on."

"We confiscated all of the food, all of the spices, everything." said Tanya. "They don't have anything to cook nor cook with."

"Vanessa said they can get that in overnight." said Molly. "But they'll need to place the order by 6:00pm."

"So we have until around then to decide." said Tanya. "Okay, here's the preliminary information we have on the victim: her name is Lauren Fogle, 28 years old. She's been with the cooking network for five years, and has been a rising star for the last three to four years. Was considered to be in good health and fit condition up to now."

"What about before she joined the network?" asked Phyllis. "College? Culinary School?"

"This data is from our friendly neighbors at the TCPD." said Tanya. "That's all they sent. I'm sure they're working on getting more data for us." Phyllis nodded.

Tanya said "Okay, while we wait for data, let's talk to everyone."

"Let's talk to Mrs. James first." said Phyllis. "We can get her statement then allow her to go home."

And so it was: Mrs. Myrtle L. James came into the room first and sat at the now-cleared table. Introductions of the NCPD Officers were made by Lt. Price, who then allowed Tanya to lead the questioning. Mrs. James had heard nothing nor seen nothing that was helpful. She said she heard no arguments before the tasting was to begin, though she did not go into the kitchen. She did hear Bruno Mensch giving Le Fleur a hard time about the set-up and the hotel's lack of speed in making things right.

"How did Mr. Le Fleur seem to be taking Bruno's abuse?" asked Tanya.

"I wouldn't call it abuse, not compared to some things I've seen." said Myrtle L. James. "And certainly not like our Investment Club meetings. And Mr. Le Fleur seemed to be taking it in stride, saying he'd get right on it for everything Mr. Mensch brought up."

"So Mr. Le Fleur did not seem angry?" asked Phyllis.

"No, just... resigned to it." said Mrs. James.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hercule Le Fleur looked flustered. He also looked like he wanted to get sick, wanted to take a nap, or wanted to be anywhere else but here at this moment. And when he was read his rights from the card, at SBI Cpt.Tanya Perlman's insistence, he looked even more green around the edges.

"So terrible, Chef Fogle dying in front of us like that. And in front of the critics and reporters." he said.

"Do you think Chef Fogle took that into account when she fell over dead?" asked Lt. Paul Price.

"Whaa?" asked Le Fleur.

"Never mind." said Lt. Price.

"What he means is," said Molly, boring down on the host, "is that you seem to be more worried about how the critics and media will portray this than you do about Chef Fogle's death."

"I am sorry she's dead, of course." said Le Fleur "And I mean no disrespect when I say that her passing has happened, it's done. We still have our futures to think about, and our network. I've been paid for many years to recognize problems for the network and to mitigate them.

"Is there any reason Chef Fogle was a problem for the network?" asked Lt. Price. "And maybe you felt the need to 'mitigate' her, as in permanently?"

"Wha... wha... what are you insinuating?" spluttered Hercule, now very agitated. "That I had something to do with her death?"

"Did you?" ask Lt. Price.

"No! Of course not!" Hercule said, getting his dander up. "Perhaps I should discontinue cooperating with you until I get a lawyer."

"That might be a very good idea, Monsieur Le Fleur." said Phyllis. "But before you do, let me ask some basic questions. First, who decided the order the chefs would present their food?"

"Oh, that was Vanessa and Chef Mensch." said Hercule, calming down considerably. "They usually choose the chef that will serve the main course, then work around him or her with the other assignments."

"And who sets the table, brings out the water glasses and the wine?" asked Phyllis.

"Again, one of the chefs and his or her sous-chefs will bear responsibility for that." said Hercule. "Usually the dessert chef and his or her sous-chefs, as they have more time to prepare and the least heavy serving to do... unless they make it complicated for themselves, yes?"

"Monsieur Le Fleur," said Tanya, "do you know of anyone who would wish to harm Chef Fogle? Any threats to her that you're aware of?"

"None that I know of." said Le Fleur. "This competition is hardly worth killing someone over, they're all getting their own recognition through the television programs. And Lauren had overcome so much, everyone was rooting for her to succeed, though maybe not to win this competition."

"What did she overcome?" asked Phyllis.

"She had problems with alcohol." said Le Fleur. "But she got clean, and was a rising star for the network."

"Got clean?" asked Molly. "That sounds more like overcoming a drug problem than an alcohol problem. You sure it was alcohol she was abusing."

"As far as I know, yes." said Le Fleur. "I was told it was alcoholism. I did not hear of her nor any of the other chefs using drugs..."

"How is your relationship with Chef Mensch?" asked Detective German.

"Good, though you wouldn't know it listening to him browbeat me." said Le Fleur. "But that's all talk. He's venting, I know it, he knows I know it. As long as things work out in the end, he's happy, and he's happy with me. I have not lasted this long with the network because I am unable to accomplish what he wants done..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Next was Alton Gordon. As a precaution, Lt. Price read him his rights from the card.

"May we call you 'Alton', or 'Chef Alton', since your wife has the same last name as you?" asked Phyllis.

"Sure." said Alton, acting a bit bored, if not put out by it all.

"So what were you doing in the moments before the kitchen was shut down?" asked Tanya.

"I was the next to present my dishes." said Alton. "So we were making frantic last-second touches to the dishes. Presentation has to be perfect for Chef Mensch, or he'll rip into us like a tornado."

"Did you see anyone go to the refrigerator against the back wall?" asked Tanya.

"Are you kidding?" asked Alton derisively. "People are in and out of that refrigerator constantly, and I was paying attention to my dishes."

"Did you get along well with Lauren Fogle?" asked Phyllis.

"Sure, as well as anyone." said Alton.

"By that," pressed Phyllis, "do you mean you get along with her as well as you get along with anyone else, or you got along with her to the same degree others did?"

"Wow, you're nitpicky today." Alton said.

"We're investigating a murder, Chef Gordon." said Molly Evans severely. "We can get a lot more nitpicky... a lot more. I believe Agent Troy asked you a question. What is your answer?"

"How do you know she was murdered?" asked Alton. "Maybe she had a heart attack or something."

"The answer, Mr. Gordon." said Lt. Paul Price. "Or we can continue this conversation at Police Headquarters, with you under arrest."

"Wow, touchy touchy." said Alton, who then saw the look on Molly's face. "Okay, okay... I got along with Lauren as well as anyone else did, and I got along with her pretty well. We were professional competitors, and our goals were the same. Having said that, I had nothing against her; nor her, me."

'What about Bruno Mensch?" asked Phyllis. "How was his relationship with Lauren?"

"I would say very good." said Alton. "He was banging her. Oh, so sorry for the coarse language, but that's the facts: they were having sex. A lot."

"How was your relationship with Chef Mensch?" asked Tanya.

"Professionally, very good." said Alton. "He's taught me a tremendous amount. Personally, we're not close; we don't hang out together or anything like that. I don't hang out with any of the other chefs, except my wife of course."

"What about your wife, Alton?" asked Lt. Price. "Is your marriage good?"

"What does that have to do with Lauren's death?" asked Alton.

"You tell us." said Molly. "And Chef Gordon, I really suggest you begin answering the questions, or invoke your Fifth Amendment rights. I'm getting very tired of your backtalking us."

"Good grief." said Alton. "Okay... my wife and I have had our ups and downs, and everyone knows that. It's all over the tabloids every weekend, though most of that is pure horse shit. We get along fine, but when the pressure of these competitions ratchet up, my wife can get pretty bitchy. And then there's a lot of back and forth. Harmless, for the most part. Sounds worse than it really is."

"Mr. Gordon," said Phyllis, her eyes boring into Alton's like laser beams, "has your wife had a sexual relationship with Bruno Mensch?"

Alton sighed, and he contemplated whether or not to answer. Finally, he said "Yes. And I might as well tell you: my wife's baby is very likely Bruno's. I still don't see what this has to do with Lauren's death."

"Maybe Lauren knew your wife was pregnant with Mensch's child," said Lt. Price, "and she was going to go to the tabloids with it."

"So what?" asked Alton. "They've spewed out so much vomit and excrement that it would just be considered more of the same."

"Mr. Gordon," asked Tanya, "do you have a peanut allergy, or any other allergies?"

"Oh hell no." said Alton. "You do realize I'm a chef? That I cook in kitchens that have peanuts and peanut oil all over the place? How could anyone with a peanut allergy be a chef?"

"With care, it's very possible." said Tanya. "So none of the other chefs have any allergies that you're aware of?"

"No." said Alton shortly.

"Anything else, anyone?" asked Tanya. No one had anything for the moment.

"Okay, Chef Gordon." said Tanya. "You'll go into the second room, and not back with the other chefs until we have talked to them, also. If there is anything you might've seen, heard, or realize, you need to let us know immediately." With that, an NCPD Officer escorted Alton out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Next was Deborah Layne Gordon. She studied everyone as she sat down, and her eyes were shrewd and confident. Lt. Price read her the rights from the card.

"May we call you 'Deborah' or 'Mrs. Gordon' to separate you from your husband with the same last name?" Tanya said. Deborah shrugged her shoulders, and Tanya said: "So... you were nearest the refrigerator by the back wall. Did you see anyone getting into it, anything that seemed unusual?"

"No, not really." said Deborah. "People are in and out of there all the time. I was trying to get my dishes plated. Alton's... my husband's... assistants are always 'borrowing' our dishes or fucking us up in some way."

"Sabotaging you?" asked Tanya.

"Not really, not intentionally." said Deborah. "They're just hopeless fuck-ups. If I had my way, I'd have fired them long ago. Alton says they need jobs, so he keeps them. He's weak, that way."

"How well did you get along with Lauren Fogle?" asked Molly.

"I am aware of the situation, so let me answer carefully." said Deborah. "We were professional competitors. It is said, and is probably true, that she and I were the the only two with a chance to win the competition. So we were not friends; we did not chit-chat together nor socialize with each other. Having said that, I did not hate her personally. I intended to win by being the better chef."

"No fights with her? No eruptions of emotions?" asked Tanya, peering hard at the beautiful blonde.

"No, nothing like that. We were both professionals, and treated each other as fellow professionals."

"Mrs. Gordon," asked Phyllis, "how would you describe your relationship with your husband, Alton?"

Deborah studied Phyllis for a second, then glanced at the other LEOs in the room, seeing them peering hard at her. She said "I assume you have a good reason for asking what seems to be a tangential question to Lauren's death. So I'll say this: my relationship with my husband is not as good as it once was, especially since we've both gained some celebrity status on the network. There are times things are good, and times they're not so good. The worst times are in the kitchen during competitions; he becomes a little bitch, and I don't take much of his shit before giving some back."