Murder at the Cooking School: Book 7 of the Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series (6 page)

Kelly was walking over to
where Mike and Domenico, the wine steward, were standing when one of the staff
motioned to the wine steward. He excused himself and followed the young man
into the wine cellar.

“Well, I see
it didn’t take you long to find a new friend,” Mike said, kneeling down and
petting Caesar.

“I think he’s
lonesome, and we’re kind of bonding. Anyway, I miss Rebel and Lady, so I don’t
mind having him around. I imagine he won’t be welcome in the kitchen, so you
might have to watch him when I’m attending class.”

“What I’m
wondering is who’s in charge of him now. I understand from the chief that
Signor
Nardo is in mourning and refuses to see anyone or take any calls.
The chief told him he wanted to see him tomorrow, but he’d respect his need for
privacy today.”

“Mike, I
overheard two women who work here talking about the
Signora’s
death.
They didn’t know I could hear what they were saying. I think you and the chief
might be very interested in what they had to say.”

“I imagine
they were speaking Italian, and I suppose you just happen to know Italian, and
you’ve never told me about it. Right?”

“Actually
you’re right, but it will have to wait until after lunch,” she said as he
looked at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly doubtful. At that moment the
students from the cooking class walked out onto the porch and everyone began
taking seats at the long table that had been set up on the porch. The view was
incredible. It was a warm sunny day with a bright blue sky overhead and rolling
hills below. Kelly felt as if she had entered a Tuscany painting.

The long
narrow table easily accommodated the ten cooking class attendees. It had been
set with white linens, silverware, crystal glasses, and flowers in small vases.
Three glasses were at each place setting. There was a stemmed glass with a
round bowl for red wine, a stemmed glass with a cylindrical bowl for white
wine, and a regular glass for water. When everyone was seated the wine steward
stood at the head of the table and began to speak.

“I know you
were welcomed last night by
Signor
and
Signora
Nardo, but as the
wine steward for the cooking classes, let me welcome you as well. My name is
Domenico. At the top of your place settings there are three glasses. At each
lunch and dinner I will be pouring premier wines from the local area, both red
and white. The wines will be different at each meal. I will put the bottles on
the table, and after I pour your wine, feel free to help yourselves to more. If
you like the wine, you may wish to write down the name on the label so you can
purchase it after your stay at
Castello di Nardo
. You are welcome to try
both of the wines or just one. If you prefer not to have wine with your meal,
please turn your glass upside down. Enjoy,” he said as he began to pour white
wine into the glasses, soon followed by the red wine. Three large water
pitchers had also been placed on the table.

Mike turned to
Kelly and said, “This is delicious. Did you make any of it?”

“No. I made
the beginnings of risotto which I’ll finish preparing just before tonight’s
dinner.”

After the
students had passed the generous antipasto platter and the focaccia bread
around the table they were served a plate of salad consisting of lettuce,
pears, parmesan cheese shavings, pine nuts, and hazelnuts.

“Mike, the
dressing on this salad is delicious. I never would have thought of this
combination.”

The woman to
the left of Kelly said, “I’m glad you like it. I made it, and it was really
easy. Just a little olive oil, lemon juice, and pepper. But wait until you see
what’s for dessert. The students at the station next to me were making it, and
it was all I could do not to sneak a bite when they weren’t looking, but I
thought that might be kind of tacky,” the woman who was from Alaska said
smiling.

“You can’t
leave us hanging. What is it?” Mike asked.

“It’s one of
the most interesting desserts I’ve ever seen. Kind of a walnut cake with a
strawberry sauce. It looked beautiful, and I can’t wait to try it.”

A few minutes
later after the servers removed the luncheon plates, they returned with plates
of the thinly sliced cake topped with strawberry sauce. Kelly took a bite and
turned to the woman, “Your instincts were absolutely right on this one. It’s
delicious. Did it look difficult to make?”

“No, not at
all. This is one I definitely want to try when I get home.”

“I can already
see it on the Kelly’s Koffee Shop menu. Would I be right, Kelly?” Mike asked.

“You know me
too well. Yes, this is definitely going be on the menu. When I get back to our
room I want to circle it, so I don’t forget it. If we’re going to have food
like this at every meal, I think I better take up jogging or something like
that while we’re here.”

“Well, funny
you should mention that because the wine steward told me bicycles are available
if we want to ride into the village or just take a ride. That might be fun.
Matter of fact you might want to take a bike ride this afternoon, because the
chief is picking me up and taking me to the station. He called right before you
came out and told me the coroner finished the autopsy this morning, and he has
the report. He wants to talk to me about it.”

“Actually, I
need to talk to you before your meeting with him. I think you’ll both be
interested in what I learned earlier, and yes, I do think I’ll take a bike ride
to the village. I’d like to take Caesar with me, but I don’t know who I should
ask to get permission for him to go with me.”

Caesar had
worked his way between Kelly and Mike’s chairs, and it was becoming apparent
that Kelly had found a friend who was definitely going to be with her the rest
of her stay.

“First of all,
I can’t wait for you to tell me how you just happened to overhear a
conversation in Italian and understand it. That should be a good story, and
remember, I don’t believe in coincidences. As far as Caesar, I don’t think I’d
worry about it. If he acts like he wants to go with you, I’d let him. Maybe you
should ask one of the staff if he has a leash, or maybe there’s one in the dog
run.” He looked at his watch. “The chief is picking me up in forty-five
minutes. Let’s go back to the room. It looks like everyone else is beginning to
leave as well.”

“Mike, I’d
like to make a quick stop at the dog run. I want to see if I can find a leash,
although since Caesar weighs more than I do, I’m not sure what good it would do
me, but it might make someone else feel a little safer if they see that the
huge dog is on a leash.”

A few minutes
later they returned to their room with a heavy black leash. Caesar had walked
up the stairs with them and followed them down the hall. Although they’d passed
several staff members, no one seemed the least bit concerned that Caesar was
with them.

When they got to their room, Mike
shut the door and turned to Kelly. “All right, I’m ready to hear your story.”

Kelly sat down on the edge
of the bed and began, “We’ve never talked about whether or not either of us
spoke a foreign language. When I was in school I took a number of classes in
Italian and seemed to have an ear for the language. Actually, I’m pretty good
with a couple of languages. They come very easily to me. I remember when I had
cooks working for me at the coffee shop who were Mexican, and after a couple of
weeks I could understand almost everything they said.”

She told him about the
books she’d gotten at The Book Nook and how she was going to surprise him. When
she saw the skeptical look on Mike’s face, she walked across the room to where
the maid had set out an Italian newspaper for them when she’d cleaned their
room. Kelly picked it up and began translating the lead article that had to do
with the President of the United States, and how he and his family were coming
to Italy to meet with the Pope.

“Okay, Kelly, you’ve made
your point. I believe you. Now tell me what you overheard.”

She spent the next twenty
minutes telling him what the two women had said and concluded by saying, “I
don’t know if you want to tell the chief about it, but it might be something he
should know.”

“Let me get this straight.
You’ve been in Italy less than twenty-four hours, and you just happened to
overhear a conversation which indicated that if
Signora
Nardo was
murdered there are five possible suspects. Remember, I won’t know until I learn
from the chief and the autopsy report if she was murdered. But let’s say she
was, and let’s say what you heard was correct.”

Kelly interrupted him,
“Mike, what I heard was correct. That’s what I overheard.”

“Okay, I’ll play along.
Signora
had a good-for-nothing brother who was jealous of her because she inherited the
castle and the land. Then there’s her lover’s wife. Uh-huh. Oh, I don’t want to
leave out the Mafia man. I mean anytime there’s a murder in Italy a member of
the Mafia has to be involved.” He deliberately avoided her gaze which was
getting steelier by the moment.

He continued, “I don’t
want overlook the owner of the competing cooking school and last, but not
least, her husband,
Signor
Nardo. Kelly, doesn’t this all seem a bit too
convenient? Maybe those two women wanted you to overhear them. Maybe one of
them killed
Signora
Nardo and was trying to draw attention away from
herself.”

“First of all, they didn’t
know I was there, and secondly, even if they had known, why would they assume I
spoke Italian? No one knows about that except Ginger, the owner of The Book
Nook. She remembered when we were in school how much I’d loved Italian.
Certainly no one here knows.”

He was quiet for a few
moments. “Okay, I’ll grant you that. It just seems too coincidental that you,
of all people, would overhear that particular conversation. You’re probably the
only one here besides me who has been involved in solving crimes.”

“That’s probably true, but
Mike, sometimes things can’t be explained logically. It just is what it is. I
think this is an ‘isness’ time, at least that’s the word I use when something
just is and can’t be rationally explained.”

“An ‘isness’ time? Would
you like me to tell the chief that you heard this conversation because it was
an ‘isness’ time? That would go a long way to establishing my credibility with
him.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t
care what you tell him, if anything. That’s your decision. I’m just telling you
what I heard,” she said jumping off the edge of the bed and flouncing into the
bathroom.

When she walked out a few
minutes later, Mike said, “I apologize. I was being a smart aleck, and that
wasn’t fair. You’re absolutely right about sometimes things happen for no
apparent reason, and this is probably one of those times. I’ll see what the
chief has to say about the autopsy report and then decide whether or not I
should tell him what you overheard.”

“That’s fair. Anyway, I
just heard the conversation. I never saw who was talking. It could have been
idle gossip or there could be some truth to it. What makes me think there is
some truth to it is that Chef Bianchi said pretty much the same thing about
Signora
Nardo and Giovanni Rizzo. Evidently his wife is one of the chef’s best friends,
and she’s been worried for a long time that they were having an affair.”

“Why would she tell you
that?”

“She said I was easy to
talk to. She was wondering if you’d found out anything, and one thing led to
another. I think she regretted mentioning it after she said it.”

“I would imagine she did.
I’ve got to leave. See you later,” he said, lightly kissing her and patting
Caesar on his head as he walked to the door.

“I’ll probably be in the
kitchen when you get back,” Kelly said. “The chef asked me to be a server
tonight, so I could finish the risotto. I’m going to be leaving now, too. I
don’t have much time until I have to report back to the kitchen. I’ll be
curious what the report has to say.”

“You’re not the only one,”
he said as he walked out the door.

Kelly and Caesar went down the stairs
to the front desk of the castle. “Matteo,” she said to the young man who had
escorted them to their room the day before, “I was told you have bicycles
available for the guests. Would it be possible for me to ride one into the
village?”

“Of course. Follow me. I
see you have made friends with Caesar. He was
Signora
Nardo’s dog.
Caesar usually doesn’t mingle with the guests. I was surprised to see him come
down the stairs with you.”

“He probably senses that I
love dogs. I’d like to take him to the village with me. Do you think that would
be a problem?”

“No, it will be fine.
Actually, it would probably be a good thing. While we have very little crime
around here, oh, maybe a petty theft or two, we prefer it if the guests don’t
leave the premises by themselves, but if Caesar is with you there won’t be a
problem,” he said as he opened the door of a storage shed and took out a bright
blue bicycle.

“He doesn’t seem like he’s
particularly aggressive,” Kelly said.

“I’ve never known him to
be aggressive. I would say he’s protective. You don’t need to worry about
having him in the village with you. Is there some place special you’re going?”

“I own a coffee shop back
in the United States, so I love to go to shops that have cooking things for
sale. I assume there’s one in the village.”

“Yes. It is called
Cucina
.
It’s not a very original name. It means kitchen in Italian. Go to the second
stop sign when you get to the village and turn right. It’s down about half a
block on the right hand side. You can’t miss it. There’s a large blue awning
with the word “
Cucina
” written in big white letters on it.
Signora
Nardo didn’t want the staff to tell any of the guests about it, because it’s
owned by Berto Moretti. He’s the man who owns the other cooking school in our
area. There is bad blood between the Morettis and the Nardos. They don’t speak
to each other. Our cooking school has always been much more popular than his,
but it’s not surprising because Chef Bianchi is considered to be one of the best
chefs in Italy.
Signor
Moretti is very tight with his money and won’t
pay to have a top-notch chef come to his cooking school. He opened the shop in
the village hoping to get tourists to stop in and then sign up for his cooking
school. When our school is sold out, he winds up getting the students who can’t
get in here.”

“Thanks Matteo. If I don’t
leave now, I’ll never be back in time to finish my risotto for dinner tonight.
I don’t want to make Chef Bianchi angry.”

“No, that you don’t want
to do. She doesn’t get angry often, but when she does, you definitely don’t
want to be around her. She and the
Signora
did not get along. I really
don’t know why. On the surface the
Signora
was always nice to her, but
one time I heard her tell
Signor
Nardo that she hated Chef Bianchi
because she acted like she was so important. I remember him asking her why
she’d hired her, but I didn’t hear her answer.”

“That’s interesting. I
never would have thought that. She was very gracious to Chef Bianchi at dinner
last night.”

“That was part of a show
for the guests. When the guests weren’t around, it was pretty clear they really
didn’t like each other.”

“Thanks again, Matteo.
I’ll see you later. Where should I put the bike when I return?”

“Just leave it out in
front, and I’ll put it back for you.”

*****

There were signs leading
to the small village when she got to the end of the lane that led to the
castle, and Kelly was there in a very short time. Even if there hadn’t been
signs, Caesar knew the way. She easily found the shop called
Cucina
, got
off of the bike, and tied Caesar up to a pole in front of the shop. She knew
that was probably unnecessary, but it made her feel better.

She was prepared to not
like the shop based on what she’d heard about the owner, but when she opened
the door she was pleasantly surprised. She hadn’t realized the shop also sold
some food items which filled it with wonderful aromas. One wall featured
balsamic vinegars from every region in Italy. On another wall bookcases were
stuffed with Italian cookbooks. All kinds of kitchen utensils were displayed on
the shelves in the small shop, many of which she’d never seen before. It was
colorful and charming.

“Welcome to
Cucina,
signora
. How may I help you?” a bearded dark-haired young man asked.

“I just want to look
around if you don’t mind. This is a wonderful shop. It must be a joy to work
here. I’ve never seen so many different kinds of balsamic vinegar.”

“I’m not surprised. My
father loves balsamic vinegar.”

“Oh, you’re the owner’s
son?” Kelly asked. “I understand he also owns a cooking school just outside of
the village.”

“That’s true, and it’s
considered to be the best in the region. There is another one near here called
Castello
di Nardo
, but many of the people who come to our school have already been
to that one, and they tell us they much prefer the warm atmosphere at ours.
Signora
Nardo, God rest her soul, was not the warmest person in the world.”

“I don’t understand why
there happens to be two cooking schools so close together in a remote area like
this. Which one was here first?”

“My father’s was the first
one.
Signora
Nardo opened hers later. There is talk she ran out of
money, and in order to maintain the castle she had to make it into a boutique
hotel and a cooking school. She has a brother who doesn’t work. It is well
known in the area she hired his wife to be her chef for the classes. Their
parents willed the castle and the land to her. From what I hear,” the young man
said conspiratorially, “when he found out she was going to have a cooking
school in the castle, he threatened to tell her husband about the affair she’s
been having with Giovanni Rizzo if she didn’t hire his wife to be the chef.
Signora
Nardo had no choice. I heard that the
Signor
wondered why she had hired
her sister-in-law, but she convinced him she was a very good chef, and she
would be much cheaper than anyone else they could hire.”

“That surprises me. I
thought the chef at the school had owned a very famous restaurant and traveled
all over Italy giving classes.”

The young man laughed. “None
of that is true. You must be staying at the castle and taking her classes.
That’s the story they tell people and who checks things like that out when
they’re going to a cooking school? No one. It has presented problems for us
because my father refuses to do that. No, believe me, the only other kitchen
Chef Bianchi has ever been in is her own.”

“Do you have any cookbooks
from your cooking school? I own a coffee shop in the United States, and I’m
always looking for new things to serve.”

“Of course. Actually there
are several. We don’t have just one chef. We have some new ones and some
returning ones and many of them have their own cookbooks. All of the cookbooks
on that middle shelf are from cooks who have taught at our school,” he said,
gesturing towards the shelf. “The problem is that they’re all in Italian. I
don’t have any in English.”

“That’s not a problem. I
speak Italian. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. I can only stay a few more
minutes, but I would like a couple of the books. Let me take a quick look and
see which ones I want.”

Ten minutes later Kelly
walked out of the shop and put the three cookbooks she’d purchased in the bike
basket. She untied Caesar from the pole and said, “Okay, Caesar, it’s time to
go back to the castle. I wonder who’s in charge of feeding you tonight. I
better find out. I don’t want you to starve.” The big dog loped alongside the
bike as they made their way back to the castle in the deepening late afternoon
shadows.