Claire Gulliver #03 - Intrigue in Italics (26 page)

“I hope so; their lives depend on their skills. We just wanted to make sure no one was interested in you. We didn’t want to make the mistake of protecting the wrong target.”

She paled a little, but nodded. She understood. “And was anyone watching me?”

“No, no one seems to be interested in you.” He grinned. “Except me of course.” The waiter arrived with their plates. “So we’ll talk about that later too, okay?”

She nodded happy to turn her attention to the food in front of her.

The dining room was noisier than usual. All the participants had dressed in their best, the wine was flowing freely and the mood was festive. Chef Martin had slipped into his seat shortly after the appetizers were served, which relieved Millie’s anxiety. George, who sat across the table nodded at her. He too had noticed. Ruth said in her ear, “Relax, everything must be under control if he’s back. I’m sure you’ll find out later what happened.”

Millie nodded and felt the worry finally drop away as she concentrated on the plate before her. The crab puffs were exquisite. She couldn’t wait to try this recipe when she got home. At the end of each day they had been given copies of all the recipes served to them, including those used in demonstrations and the ones the Villa provided for breakfast and lunch. Each participant would be returning home with a cookbook for their own exclusive use. And since the Villa was making arrangements to send the bulky binders home for them, they had agreed to pack and send the pottery Millie bought. Thank god! She didn’t know what she had been thinking, buying all that bulky pottery. Well, of course, she knew she was getting some beautiful pieces for a fraction of what they would cost at home, even considering what the shipping would cost. But she hadn’t been thinking suitcase dimensions when she made her purchases.

She finished her glass of wine, and the waiter was right there filling it again. The wine seemed more potent tonight. It was probably because it had been a long and stressful day. She decided she best just sip or she’d be out of it before their little graduation ceremony was over. When the waiters brought in the Turbot Rolls with Hollandaise Sauce, Millie eyed the dish carefully to make sure it had been plated according to their instructions. Not only did it look beautiful, it tasted divine. The spinach and leek filling was just right, enhancing but not overpowering the delicate flavor of the fish, while the Hollandaise Sauce they used was the perfect way to complete it. The rest of the group seemed to appreciate the dish. And just as they finished, the waiters whisked away those plates replacing them with dishes of cabbage rolls, simmered in sauerkraut. And then finally, the lamb shanks in rich dark gravy on polenta, their
coup de grace
.

“Wonderful. Superb!” Stephen breathed his approval.

Considering his occupation Millie felt pride swell her head. George winked at her and did a thumbs-up sign to Randy and Renee further down the table.

“Millie, you did yourself proud. What a wonderful combination.” Even Ruth was in awe of the dishes.

When the dinner plates were cleared away, the waiters passed around small dishes of peach champagne sorbet to cleanse their palates before the dessert course. And of course, bottles of dessert wine were poured.

Millie took a tiny sip of the sweet wine, then rolling the wine around on her tongue, tossed caution to the wind and took a bigger swallow. If she had a headache in the morning she’d just live with it. After all tomorrow was only a travel day; she didn’t need to have her wits about her.

Ruth’s Group B succeeded in capping this wonderful meal with outstanding desserts. It was hard to only taste them. Millie’s spoon seemed to have a will of its own as it dipped repeatedly into the trio of offerings which had been plated together so everyone had all three at once.

Ruth kept a running description of the preparations going, so all those sitting near her felt as if they had been in the kitchen with her. But nobody minded, because every dessert was outstanding. And while they might not have been in Group B they all wanted to have made these desserts.

Then it was time for the final critique. Everyone was aware that this was the last time they would be together. The comments were enthusiastic and kind.

“I loved the cabbage rolls. But in my country, Croatia, we use paprika to flavor and add color to them.”

“Ah, but here in Italy we don’t use the sauerkraut. We use a tomato sauce. But I liked this variation.”

“The lamb shanks were wonderful. I’m so glad to have this recipe.”

“I agree the shanks were divine, some of the best, but I think they needed a vegetable to share the polenta. The plate looked a little bare,” Stephen offered.

Michael nodded. “Yes, mushrooms would have been the perfect addition.”

Millie nodded seriously, afraid to look at George, not wanting to give anything away by her expression.

Chef Martin stood, held up his hands until everyone quieted. Even the waiters clearing the last of the dishes paused. Absolute quiet fell.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, on our last night of class it gives me much pleasure to turn this over to Rafael Angelino, who you will remember from our introductory luncheon. He represents the Italian Culinary Association, which sponsors this annual Retreat.

Rafael got to his feet, grinning widely. When finally the clapping died away he began, “Thank you all. I have been in constant communication with Chef Martin; with Chef Geno here at the Villa and, of course, with Marie Verde who has spent her time making sure that all events were coordinated perfectly. I believe I can safely proclaim this has been the finest Retreat we have had.”

The applause bolstered by cheers and whistles made it clear that everyone agreed.

“I know you have worked hard and I, myself, have witnessed the fruits of your labors at this truly magnificent meal...” again the applause drowned him out and he waited patiently for it to die away.

“It gives me great pleasure to award your certificates of completion and a few tokens of gratitude from the Italian Culinary Association.” He held up one of the mushroom shaped hats like the ones they had worn in the kitchen, only these had their names and
“5th Annual Italian Culinary Retreat, Villa Tuscany, 2002”
embroidered in blue on the band which went around the head. And he held up chef jackets, similar to the ones Chef Martin and Chef Geno wore, which were also marked with their names and the Retreat logo.

The participants smiled and clapped once more.

“Oh, we’re going to look so good in those it will be hard to stay in the kitchen. When we cook dinner for the Richman brothers and their wives we have to go into the dining room so they can see how good we look,” Ruth whispered happily to Millie.

Millie agreed, nothing like some of the trimmings to enhance the dish, or in this case, the chef. She had been planning a thank you dinner for her former bosses since she arrived at the Culinary Retreat, and Ruth had insisted she would act as her assistant chef. She said it would be like final exams.

Then each person went to the front table when their name was called, took their jacket and hat, received their certificate and shook hands with everyone. When it was Millie’s turn, Chef Martin clasped her hand in both of his and said quietly for her ears alone, “Ms. Gulliver, I will bring you up to date later. Will you be in the lounge celebrating with the rest?”

She nodded.

“Good, I’ll find you.”

And she moved on to hug Wanda and thank her for all her support.

It was truly a lovely dinner. Because they were in the little alcove, they could talk without the worry of other diners overhearing their conversation. While they didn’t discuss Kristen or any of Claire’s recent experiences they were free to talk about England, last year when they met, and Washington DC where they had been together in the previous September. And they talked about Jack’s daughter as well as Claire’s bookshop. Claire told him about the Lickman’s Christmas present, Tuffy-Two, the West Highland Terrier puppy who had taken over the hearts of all who came to the bookstore. She explained how she had been awarded a VIP Card at Vantage Airlines and the benefits which went along with that honor. And she told him about her mother’s recent retirement and her current visit to the Italian Culinary Retreat in Tuscany. They discussed the terrible tragedy of 9/11 and how it had affected their lives as well as the world. They dawdled over their coffees, nibbling the tiny biscotti served to them, but finally it was plainly time to leave.

When they emerged from the tiny alley onto the quay alongside of the Grand Canal, they turned without speaking to stroll past the Rialto Bridge.

“So, I’ve been very patient. Now tell me what happened to Kristen.”

Jack nodded. “She’s safe. She called as planned and we had people watching. So after the mole passed the information to his contact he was picked up. They then followed his contact. It led, just as Kristen expected, to Sonny’s father, who had arranged through his Italian based family for the assassins.”

It was what Claire expected. She knew there was a traitor leaking information about Kristen, but she was still shocked. “Who was it? What did he say? Why did he do it?”

Jack shook his head. “So many questions. It was Kristen’s contact. He’s been with the U.S. Marshall’s office for almost thirty-five years. He was getting ready for retirement and felt the need to pad his nest egg. He had apparently reached a point where he just didn’t care anymore. He should have been out of there years before, but....” He shrugged helplessly. “Sometimes people lose sight of their purpose. They get disillusioned. Then they can be very dangerous to people like me. And to people like Kristen who rely on them for their life. So now this man has lost his pension. He won’t need it where he’s going. He will be spending his retirement in a Federal Prison.

“Who knows how many others he has sold out during his career?”

Jack looked at her carefully. “So once more you were right. Every time Kristen called in to report, her location was passed on to the men who were hunting her. Had she called in again, Sunday from Vernazza, neither of you would be here now to worry about the mole.”

Claire shivered. Jack put his arm around her and pulled her close to him until she relaxed again. Then he whispered in her ear, “But, something amazing happened.”

She pulled her head back to see his face clearer. “What? What happened?”

He shook his head, his eyes smiled, and then it reached his lips. “Just when you’re beginning to think there is no justice in the world something astounding happens.”

“Are you going to tell me or just let me dangle here?” Claire was impatient.

“Sonny was attacked in the prison yard yesterday. We heard about it last night. It seems he was bucking the system inside and the man in charge took exception to it. They got him alone and that’s all there is.”

Claire gasped. “You mean they killed him?”

Jack nodded. “Yep, they got his buddies off on some pretext and then waited for him to show. Sonny was used to doing his own thing. He always had, you see. His old man had always protected him. So naturally he expected to be able to do what he wanted in prison too.

“It didn’t work.”

“So Kristen is safe?” Claire said slowly, trying to absorb all the ramifications of Jack’s story. “She can go back to her old life?”

“Well, she’s safe enough now. No one came for her and we know the information about her location got to Sonny’s father. So obviously the word is out. We doubt they will pursue her now as there will be no trial. She is no longer a threat to Sonny.

“But I don’t think she can just go back to her old life. After all, she died, didn’t she? It would be very awkward for her to show up again. No, I think they will help her establish a new identify, to build a new life as they promised. But this life will be much safer, and she should be able to include her family.

“So she will be much better off than she is now, even if it will never be the same as it was before the incident. She has been very brave and very resourceful. Everyone was very impressed with her.”

“Can I get in touch with her?”

“Not just yet. They’re still keeping her hidden, but I’m sure she will contact you not too far in the future. She seems to credit you with saving her life a few times.” Jack grinned widely, looking at her with admiration. “You do have a way about you, Claire.”

They walked silently for a while, Claire trying to absorb the story Jack had told her. Eventually, Jack paused and started talking to one of the boatmen clustered at the edge of the canal. Obviously he was fluent in Italian judging by the hand movements which accompanied the rapid-fire words. Claire couldn’t understand anything they said, but when the deal was struck she carefully stepped into the middle of the gondola. Holding the boatman’s hand to steady herself, she let herself be led to the back where there was a comfortable seat for two under a canopy. She had no more than gotten settled when the boat rocked violently with Jack’s passage. He sat close to her, wrapping his arm possessively around her.