Agony of the Leaves: Tea Shop Mystery #13 (26 page)

“She didn’t exactly fight
in
the war,” Drayton pointed out.

“Well, I know that!” said Haley. She dipped a flatbamboo-and-mesh scoop into the oil and snagged a dozen golden shrimp. Then she deposited them on thick paper towels. “Okay, these are ready. Just stick toothpicks in them and pile them on the end of that platter, next to the California rolls.”

“Then I can take the platter out?” asked Theodosia.

Haley bobbed her head. “Set it on the tea table and people can just help themselves. No need to circulate among the guests or anything since this isn’t black tie.”

“Just black kimono,” said Drayton. He was wearing a short, black silk kimono jacket over his white shirt and black slacks.

“You, my friend,” Haley chuckled at Drayton, “look like some sort of disreputable waiter in that getup.”

Drayton pulled himself to his full height and peered
down his aquiline nose. “I’ll have you know this is an authentic
haori
coat from the Meiji period.”

“Is that so?” said Haley, squinting at him.

“And I brought along kimonos for both of you to wear,” continued Drayton. “Borrowed from a friend who has a rather extensive collection.”

“Really?” said Haley. “You think kimonos are better than what Theodosia has on?”

“Just more authentic,” said Drayton. He reached around behind him and pulled a rustle of silk from a shopping bag. When he unfurled it, they were looking at a full-lengthpeach-colored kimono decorated with purple flowers.

“That’s absolutely gorgeous,” said Theodosia.

“Then this shall be yours,” said Drayton. He adjusted his tortoiseshellhalf-glasses. “That floral motif happens to be wisteria, by the way. A harbinger of spring in Japan.”

“What about my kimono?” asked Haley, suddenly interested.

Drayton pulled out a second kimono, a red one. “Red to match your temperament, but adorned with lovely white cranes, which are always an auspicious symbol.”

“Kinda neat,” said Haley.

“Neat,” said Drayton, the word dripping off his tongue.

Haley watched as Theodosia stepped into her kimono, then let Drayton tie a long, cream-colored obi around her waist. “You look like some sort of vision in that,” Haley observed. “Like you should be swooping down from Mt. Fuji on the back of afire-breathing dragon.”

“No fire breathing tonight,” said Drayton, “except for the hot coals in my hibachi.”

Theodosia adjusted the obi, pulling it a little tighter, then scooped up the tray of Japanese goodies. “Okay?” she asked. She was just happy Drayton didn’t expect her to totter around an uneven patio wearing wooden geta.

Drayton and Haley both nodded their approval.

“Hey!” Haley exclaimed, just noticing Theodosia’s updo. “I like what you did with those chopsticks. In your hair, I mean. A little bit of Harajuku hip mingled with the elegance of a geisha!”

“Good heavens!” exclaimed
Timothy Neville, the moment Theodosia stepped out onto the patio. “Don’t you look lovely!”

“Thank you,” said Theodosia. Timothy was the octogenarian executive director of the Heritage Society, a small, simian-looking man with a cap of thin, white hair above his tightly stretched countenance. Well-connected, with a lineage that ran all the way back to the early Huguenots, Timothy was rich as Croesus and ran the Heritage Society with an iron fist. He was also, Theodosia knew for a fact, a permanent fixture. In fact, Timothy had let it be known that when he finally departed the Heritage Society, it would be feet first in a horizontal position. Though several members had chuckled at this, Theodosia didn’t doubt Timothy for a moment.

“Tell me,” said Timothy, looking rather elegant in his trim white dinner jacket, “since Drayton was the one who set up this event, what exactly is on the program for tonight?” His spidery fingers hovered above a piece of sushi, then switched direction and grabbed a plump shrimp.

“As soon as all our guests arrive,” said Theodosia, “Drayton’s going to perform a tea ceremony.”

Timothy grimaced. “This is going to be an elaborate ritual?”

“Actually, it’s rather simple,” said Theodosia. “More of a demonstration than anything.”

“Excellent,” said Timothy, his eyes drifting away, taking in the crowd of people who continued to gather and exchange air kisses. He was thinking, no doubt, that there had to be
some
donor still untapped whose arm could be twisted into ponying up substantial money for his beloved institution.

“Thank you for letting us use your patio,” said Theodosia. This wasn’t exactly a HeritageSociety–sanctioned event. It was really more of a favor to her and Drayton and the sponsors of the Coffee & Tea Expo.

Timothy waved a hand. “Think nothing of it.” He lowered his voice. “Oh, good gracious, here comes that crazy woman Delaine. A prodigiousfund-raiser, to be sure, but such a dreadful gossip.” And off Timothy darted, disappearing into the crowd.

Delaine had already spotted Theodosia and was waving madly, her wrist clanking with glittering bracelets. “Theodosia!” she cried, taking little baby steps, all her tight gold sheath dress and matchingfour-inch stilettos would allow. Then, drawing closer, she whooped, “Oh, Theo! Don’t you look all colorful and delicious and exotic! Dare I say it? Like a courtier who just stepped out of some marvelous
Ukiyo-e
print!”

“Uki-what?” said Dougan Granville, who had been dragged along in Delaine’s frothy wake.

“
Ukiyo-e
literally translates as ‘pictures of a floating world,’” Theodosia explained. “It’s a term that refers to the Japanese woodblock prints of the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries.”

“Oh,” Granville grunted. He’d turned to eye the crowd. Looking for a means of escape, perhaps? But Theodosia had a few questions for Dougan Granville.

“Dougan,” Theodosia began, “since you’re on the board of the Neptune Aquarium, I was wondering if you knew exactly how the restaurant franchise was awarded?”

“Huh?” Granville was distracted and still looking around.

“Dougan?” said Delaine, gazing lovingly up at him. She gave his arm a little tug. “The restaurant franchise?”

“The one that was awarded to Lyle Manship?” said Theodosia, giving him a prompt. “Can you explain why he was the recipient?”

Granville pulled a Cohiba cigar from the breast pocket of
his finely tailored navy jacket and twiddled it between his fingers. “No idea,” he said.

“But you’re on the board,” said Theodosia.

Delaine sidled even closer to Granville, suddenly in a defensive posture. “Dougan serves on
several
boards.”

“There are boards and then there are working boards,” said Granville, as if that were explanation enough.

“Are you telling me you’re a board member in name only?” said Theodosia.

“Something like that,” said Granville. “In the case of the Neptune Aquarium, where funding came from individuals as well as the city and the federal government, they have atop-notch executive committee already in place. You know, an executive director, assistant director, financial officer, marketing guy, that sort of thing.”

“The thing is,” said Theodosia, “Lyle Manship, who received the restaurant franchise, is a bit of a sleazeball. I understand there’s even been some impropriety in his past.”

“You don’t say,” said Granville. He looked surprised, as if this were the first he’d heard.

“So I was wondering,” said Theodosia, “why his past business dealings wouldn’t have been investigated a little more thoroughly.”

“You’d have to talk to the executive director about that,” said Granville.

“You mean David Sedakis,” said Theodosia.

“That’s right,” said Granville.

“It’s a known fact that Manship does have a checkered past,” said Theodosia, “so do you think David Sedakis might have overlooked that?” She took a deep breath, then asked, “Do you think money might have changed hands?”

“I don’t know,” said Granville. But his body language and squared shoulders clearly stated,
And I don’t want to know.

Still, Theodosia pushed him. “Do you think you could try to find out? Do a little digging?”

Granville looked pained. “Perhaps.”

“Mypumpkin-poo is frightfully busy right now,” said Delaine.

“I know you want to be a responsible board member,” Theodosia continued, “even if you’re there in name only.”

Granville looked even more pained.

“Because if there had been some sort ofunder-the-table deal,” said Theodosia, “you certainly wouldn’t want your name attached to it. You wouldn’t want to have your stellar reputation impugned. After all, you’ve worked long and hard to establish your law firm as one of Charleston’s preeminent firms.” Theodosia pretty much choked on these last words, even though they seemed to be effective in hitting their target.

Granville looked like he was turning green, while Delaine clenched her jaw so hard she looked like she’d pop a filling. Theodosia had touched upon the one thing that everyone in the upper reaches of Charleston society feared most. Scandal.

“I’ll look into it,” Granville muttered.

“Thank you,” said Theodosia. “I appreciate it.”

The tea ceremony
was beautiful. With everyone seated on folding chairs, and a musician plucking out a simple, haunting tune on a Japanese koto, Drayton stepped to a small raised platform and began.

“My
tetsubin…”
he said, indicating a black iron teapot that was heating on a small hibachi, “is filled with water and about to come to a boil. But, as in the preparation of any fine tea, one never allows the water to reach full boil.”

There were murmurs and nods from the crowd as they gave him their rapt attention.

“In fact,” Drayton continued, “there’s a famous Japanese adage that serves as a perfect reference.” He gave a quick smile, then said, “‘Carp eyes coming, fish eyes going, soon will be the wind in the pines.’ You see,” he explained, “the fish eyes are the tiny bubbles, and the carp eyes are the large bubbles that generally herald a good roiling boil. And the wind in the pines is, of course, the beginning rush of the teapot’s whistle.”

This charming metaphor drew a round of applause from thetea-loving crowd.

Lifting his teapot off the glowing coals of the hibachi, Drayton poured water into a small, sea-green ceramic bowl. Then, opening a matching ceramic jar, he used a long wooden spoon to extract several spoonfuls of green tea powder. This was then added to the water in the bowl. With a bamboo whisk, Drayton whipped the tea and water together until it turned into a lovely green froth.

“We turn the bowl three times,” he said, rotating the bowl, “and then our cup of tea is ready to drink.” He handed the bowl to Theodosia, who was standing nearby. She accepted the bowl with both hands and took a tiny sip. “
Chado
means ‘tea house,’” said Drayton, with a smile. “And every cup of tea is singly and individually prepared for each person.”

Theodosia handed the cup back to Drayton as he continued. “Because tea, music, and poetry blend together so well,” he told everyone, “I shall share with you a simple haiku written by Kyoshi Takahama.”

“Which translates to,” said Drayton, “He will send green tea, as a token of living, my friend’s letter reads.” He spread his arms wide and nodded toward his audience. “And now, we shall serve freshly made Gyokuro tea, also known as ‘Precious Dew,’ as well as Japanese rice cookies and appetizers. And bid everyone to partake of this beautiful evening of peace and friendship.”

“Don’t you think
you were a little hard on Dougan?” Delaine asked Theodosia. Her mouth was tightly pursed, her eyes flashing a warning.

Theodosia had finished pouring tea for all the guests at the party and was now enjoying awell-deserved cup of tea herself.

“I didn’t mean to be,” said Theodosia. “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of things.”

“This
investigating
thing you do,” said Delaine. “It can be a bit tedious.” Delaine took a quick sip of tea, then scanned the throng of guests, obviously keeping an eye out for Dougan.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” said Theodosia. “But when you lose someone who’s near and dear to you, it’s only natural to want to see his killer brought to justice.”

Delaine pretended to look shocked. “Killer? I thought Parker’s death had been deemed an accident. At least that’s what the newspapers reported.”

“Well, they were wrong.”

“But you do have confidence that the police will solve this crime, don’t you?”

Theodosia kept a placid look on her face, mostly to keep peace. “I’m sure they’re doing their best.”

“Of course they are, dear,” said Delaine. “Now please try to relax, will you?”

“Delaine,” said Theodosia, “I am relaxed. You’re the one whose eyes keep darting every which way.”

Delaine’s brittle façade suddenly collapsed and she gasped, “Frankly, Theo, I’m an absolute wreck. When I got involved with Dougan I had no idea how many ex-girlfriends the man had! It’s like a veritable minefield out there. Every time we go to a restaurant or theater, some woman pops out of the woodwork and starts prowling after him like some kind of hungry alley cat. I don’t know what to do!”