Chef's Special

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 10 - Crime Scene Investigation

3:15am, Saturday, June 24th. Molly, my mother, and I arrived at the Lakeside Inn & Suites. Cindy and Tanya were on their way, in separate vehicles.

When we got there, we were escorted to the hotel room of Bruno Mensch. He and Vanessa Brunson had been escorted to another room. A Deputy Sheriff was still unconscious, and had been transported to University Hospital. Lt. Paul Price was already in the hotel room, and Detective German got there just after us.

We were waiting for Crime Lab personnel to arrive from my County. I took a lightning inventory of the room. A five-shot revolver, .38 Special caliber, was lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. Four shots had been fired into the bed.

"The circuit breaker controlling the lights was shut off," said Lt. Price, "but the room key system still worked; it's on another circuit. Bruno and Vanessa were interviewed separately, and their stories match: they were having sex and had rolled off the bed onto the floor, then suddenly all hell broke loose and they heard some deafening sounds."

"They get the full sound blast when they're in front of a revolver and not behind it." I said. "They're lucky they weren't killed."

"Commander," said Lt. Price, "do you think they might have staged this?"

"The thought

has

crossed my mind." I said.

"No, this was not staged." said my mother. "It was an attempt to kill Bruno, maybe both of them."

"How do you

know?

" asked Price, looking skeptical.

"Tell you what," I said, "let's get the videographers and photographers in here to record the scene. Then I want someone with an evidence bag to be ready to receive the shells from that revolver. I suspect the revolver was wiped down; I am praying the shooter forgot to wipe down the bullet cartridges and left us an Easter egg."

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

After the Crime Lab people came, they marked evidence, including the bullet holes in the sheets and the bed, then everything was photographed. Then I carefully picked up the revolver with a pencil and analyzed it for prints with the special dust and the UV app on my Police iPhone. What people may not realize is that the camera on the back of the iPhone does not see non-visible light, but the one in front (where you'll see yourself) does. Try it with your TV remote.

But I digress: there were no prints. Then, wearing latex gloves, of course, I opened the revolver and emptied the shells onto the floor, then applied the dust. Fingerprints appeared!

"Outstanding!" I exclaimed as I took photos of the prints and sent those off to the FBI database as well as the State Crime Lab's database. A name came back just moments later.

"Exactly who you said it was, Mom." I said, showing her the name on my iPhone screen.

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

Tanya Perlman arrived with a 'guest': FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone.

"You wanted me to come, also?" Jack asked me as we shook hands.

"Yes." I said. "We have some side issues about this case that might touch the Federal level." I then introduced Muscone to the NCPD Officers that did not know him. Then I showed Tanya and Cindy the evidence from the cartridges.

"It doesn't make sense." said Tanya. "Or is the killer of Lauren Fogle a different person?"

"No, it's the same person." said my mother. "Why don't we gather them together, and have a little conversation with them."

My mom will never admit it, but she has a flair for the dramatic. And no telling who just might have inherited those traits from her. Perhaps a granddaughter with a dislike of stringbeans...

Part 11 - The Gathering

"It was crazy!" Bruno Mensch all but shouted in the main room, the room where Lauren's death had taken place. "Just out of nowhere, BANG!" Bruno was half dressed, wearing a t-shirt and pants. Vanessa had put her dress back on, but had no bra or panties, and her large breasts were bouncing beneath the dress, to the great pleasure of many male police officers (and perhaps one platinum blonde female Officer).

"Oh, you poor dear." said Celeste to Vanessa, who was looking pale and shocked. "Did you see anything?"

"No, it was just... chaos. Horrifying." said Vanessa. She continued to stare forward in introspection.

Just then, Alton and Deborah were escorted in, followed by Hercule Le Fleur and René Descartes. "What the hell is going on with you people?" snarled Alton as they came in. "You tell us we're being detained, now you rout us out of our beds at three o'clock in the morning---"

He was interrupted by Lt. Molly Evans, who was holding a borrowed red crowbar as she approached him. "I have just one thing to say about your mouth, Mr. Gordon." Molly warned. "Close it." Gordon shut up.

"What

did

happen?" asked Deborah. She was beautiful even without makeup, almost glowing despite being sleep-tousled.

"Someone tried to shoot Bruno and Vanessa." said Celeste. "It's sheer luck they're still alive."

"Now that you're all here," said Tanya Perlman, "let's begin. We've brought you here to discuss what happened, and to reveal who murdered Lauren Fogle. Agent Troy?"

"Troy... which Troy?" asked Bruno.

"Coincidence, Agent Troy?" Celeste said, looking at my mother an then at me, back and forth. "Coincidence, hell. I'll be damned if you're not the Iron Crowbar's mother."

"And I'm damned proud of the fact that she

is

my mother." I said resolutely to the stunned group. "Mom, why don't you explain things to us?"

"Certainly, son." said Phyllis, turning to the group. "First... Deborah! Who is the father of your baby?"

"Whaaa?" gasped Deborah, as the others gasped.

"That's one hell of an offensive question!" shouted Deborah's husband Alton.

"Oh please, Mr. Gordon, spare me the play-acting. I've seen much, much better." said Phyllis. "You sit there and watch Bruno Mensch take your wife and have sexual intercourse with her, and often, but you pretend to be shocked at my question? No, it just won't do. Mrs. Gordon, if you please?"

"I don't know who the father is, not for sure." said Deborah.

"I think you do." said Phyllis. "And I think you know it's not your husband's,

nor is it Bruno Mensch's love child

. And that leaves only a few options, so I'll guess that René is the father."

Amidst the gasps, the look in Deborah's face was one of 'damn you for revealing that!'. René looked openly shocked as he looked over at Deborah.

"Yes, it's true." Deborah admitted with asperity. "I make Alton wear condoms, and Bruno is shooting blanks." The mighty Teutonic Chef bowed his head with a pained expression on his face.

"And if Lauren knew that, and was going to tell Bruno..." said Lt. Price.

"It would certainly be dramatic." said my mother. "I did want to clear that up, in the child's interest, and in René's interest, of course. But let's continue. Let me first state that Lauren's death was intentional, and that she was very much the target. Let's start at the beginning. About six years ago, a young woman named 'Cynthia Jensen' was discovered by Vanessa and Bruno---"

"Who?" asked Alton. "No 'Cynthia Jensen' ever worked for or with us."

"You would not realize it, as you came to the network later." said Phyllis. "Cynthia showed great promise as a chef, and of course Chef Mensch here was very attracted to her beauty. But she had a problem: she drank. A lot. And one night, she got a DUI... after running over a boy on his bicycle and driving away from the scene of the accident."

"It was a brutally ugly scene, too." continued Phyllis severely. "According to Police reports, the boy and his bike were dragged over 200 feet, and the car never applied the brakes. What was left was so mangled that the Police would not let the child's mother see him; his identity was confirmed through a mitochondrial DNA test."

Celeste Spencer's head was bowed, and tears were flowing form her face. "

Mon Dieu!

Celeste..." said René Descartes who was sitting next to her. "Was that your son? Say it is not so!"

Celeste nodded, her head still bowed low. "Yes, it was my son. My only child..." René took the sobbing woman into his arms.

"What does this mean?" asked Deborah. "Did Celeste..."

"Let us continue." said Phyllis. "Two executives of the network made a decision. They hired lawyers to make sure any charges for vehicular homicide were pled down and not applied. Then they sent the driver to rehab, then worked with a corrupt politician to get her name changed. Even more, they gave her a whole new identity, which included a passport. 'Cynthia Jensen' ceased to exist, and 'Lauren Fogle' came into being."

Phyllis looked sternly at Vanessa and Bruno as she said "Lauren did well very well with the network, didn't she? Cleaned up the alcohol abuse, at least enough to get by. She was kept off the air for a while, so that she would not be recognized, but Bruno was training her for the day she would be able to return. And that was to culminate this year, in the current competition. But that is also what led to her death. Lt. Evans, would you show the video, please?"

Molly brought out the computer and put it on the table. The playing of Lauren winning her contest was shown.

"That's when you decided to kill Lauren, isn't it, Celeste? Maybe it was when you realized Lauren had run over your son?" asked Phyllis.

Celeste looked over at Tanya. "I meant it when I said it was wonderful that you were able to save your son, Captain Perlman." she said. "And I would've given my legs, I would've given

anything

to have been able to be there to save my son. But I was not there, I did not have that chance." Tears were flowing down Tanya's face... and Cindy's, as well.

Celeste went on: "That... that

bitch

was going on about the second chance she was getting, and the opportunity to use her talents! But did my little boy ever have the chance to show his talents? To even grow up? No, that drunk bitch mowed him down, didn't even have the decency to stop or try to help. She just drove off! And then the Police were paid to 'lose' the evidence; she was only charged with DUI. And these two shameful slugs..." she was pointing at Vanessa and Bruno "... they sent her to rehab, they paid off people to cover up what she did to my little boy..."

Celeste had something in her hand. She tossed it to me. It was a jump drive. "There, Commander Troy." she said as I caught it. "There's the proof you need of their cover-up. You took down Pastor Westboro, Please take down these bastards for what they did to cover up for the murderer of my son!"

"Now just a fucking minute!" snarled Vanessa.

"Your rights were read to you yesterday." I said coldly to Vanessa. "I would really suggest you exercise those rights right about now, especially the ones about remaining silent."

"We've done nothing wrong." said Vanessa.

"You BITCH!" yelled Celeste. She got up and ran at Vanessa, attacking her. She managed to put a deep scratch on Vanessa's lovely face before Officers pulled her off. They took the sobbing, yelling Celeste out of the room.

"That is terrible! Disgusting!" shouted René, at Brunson and Mensch. "You are truly pigs!" Then he turned to Phyllis and asked "Can you prove Celeste killed Lauren?"

"Unfortunately, yes." said Phyllis. "I have a son, who I've seen lying in hospital beds nearly dead, the payment for stopping some of the most dangerous criminals in the world, and nothing I can do to help him, except pray. I feel for Celeste... but there is a trail of evidence that a Jury is going to find compelling."

I was a bit shocked by my mother's words; it was the first time she'd ever spoken of her own pain in our wars against Crime.

"Is Celeste the bitch that shot at us?" asked Vanessa, who was holding up a handkerchief to her bleeding face.

"Maybe." I said. "But that's not proved beyond a reasonable doubt yet. So all of you will return to your rooms and remain there until morning. And separate rooms, Bruno and Vanessa. Which will be under a more watchful guard..."

Part 12 - Aftermath

"Once we knew where to look," said Jack Muscone, "it wasn't hard to find. Vanessa paid with network money. Notations were made, the amounts match to campaign contributions. They crossed State lines with the wire payments. I'm ready to squeeze some people until they yelp."

Muscone, Cindy, and I were meeting with John Jones, the U.S. Attorney, who had come over from the City. It was 7:00am, Saturday, June 24th. Celeste's data had been good enough for 'probable cause', and I'd spent the last two hours amassing more data. Now we were presenting it to Jones, the black U.S. Attorney I'd worked with before, during the Susan Wexler case.

"Also," I added, "the recent cost run-ups at the network were actually Bruno and Vanessa funneling that money into offshore bank accounts. My people have some solid evidence on that. Fraud and embezzlement crossing State and National lines."

"It's thin." said Jones. "We're going to have a tough time proving it. We usually don't waste time trying to prosecute cases we're more likely to lose than win." Jack and I looked at each other, knowing it was a longshot.

"But..." said Jones, "I am sick and tired of these bigwig corporations running roughshod over people. I'll tell you right now, I don't know if we can win this in Court... but I'm willing to give it a shot. These bastards need to be taken down a notch."

"We'll do what we can to shore it up." said Muscone. "In the meantime, let's get a Federal warrant. I know the Iron Crowbar wants to make an arrest or two."

I turned to Cindy. "Call Priya, on her personal line, and get her here for an exclusive perp walk. Once she's here, and John Hardwood is not, then you can tell Bettina. She's been camping out in the lobby."

"They gave her a room, but I'll tell her." Cindy said, getting out her cellphone to call Priya.

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

Vanessa and Bruno were brought to the main room. Agents of the Law awaited them.

"Ms. Brunson, Mr. Mensch, I am Special Agent Martin Nash of the FBI." said Nash. "We have warrants for your arrests, for conspiracy, embezzlement, and for wire fraud across State lines and national borders."

"What is this?" Bruno roared. "Are you kidding?"

"Just shut up, Bruno." said Vanessa. "They'll never prove a thing. Just keep your mouth shut."

"But what about the network? My shows?" asked Bruno.

"Oh, you might can do a cooking special from the kitchen at the Federal prison." I said. Bruno looked daggers at me. "But your network... they've got financial issues. And those issues are about to get worse. Big scandals about to hit."

Nash escorted the handcuffed Vanessa, whose scratch was going to leave a permanent scar on her face. I escorted Bruno out, also handcuffed. When we hit the front doors, the blast of a full-fledged Media feeding frenzy exploded on them. Priya and Bettina were yelling questions at them. And the good part was that the entire Nation, maybe the World, was going to see this perp walk.

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

Celeste Spencer sat in the Interrogation Room of Nextdoor County Police Headquarters, and Molly, my mother, and I were looking in on her through the one-way glass.

"René was right." said Molly. "It really is going to be tough to prove."

"No, it's going to be straightforward enough." said my mom. "It's circumstantial, but there are so many strong links in the chain. And she all but admitted it, as well."

"She didn't admit it." I said sourly. "A good defense attorney can create reasonable doubt. What we do have are the prints on the cartridges of the weapon used to shoot at Bruno and Vanessa. That's the Prosecution's lynchpin. Molly, is your county's D.A. up to the task?"

"He's no Paulina Patterson," said Molly, "but he's pretty good. I guess we'll find out."

"What do you think will happen to her?" asked my mother.

"She'll undergo psychiatric evaluation." I said. "She'll probably be considered fit to stand trial, but could go for an insanity defense at her trial. But that's confessing guilt, and a good defense attorney will have to make that determination. She will need a very good attorney."

"Do they really have a chance to convict Vanessa and Bruno?" Molly asked.

"I don't know, but I'll be helping work on it." I said. "Celeste, I can feel empathy for. Those two slugs? Not one bit. Not... one... bit."

Part 13 - Solution

Sunday, June 25th. We gathered at The Cabin in the late afternoon for the 'solution party'. We didn't call it a 'victory party', as we didn't feel like we'd really won a victory, nor did we want to celebrate.

Present were: me, Laura, Carole, Jim, Molly, Ian, Ross, my mom Phyllis, Tanya Perlman, Jack Muscone, Martin Nash, Cindy Ross, Callie Carrington, Teresa Croyle, Todd Burke, little Doug, little Todd, little Jack Burke, Lt. Paul Price, Detective German, Chief Griswold, and his friend, NCPD Chief Malden. And Buddy and Bowser, of course.

After a big dinner of steaks and salads, the steaks cooked on the grill by Chef Crowbar (me) and Chef Todd, we settled down to hear the explanation of my mother's solution to the case.

"I would not call it 'simple'," said my mom, "but it was pretty straightforward once I determined a few things. Let's start at the beginning: Chef Fogle passed out suddenly and died in front of us. Her heart was not beating, and the defibrillator did nothing to help. That suggested poison, but it turned out to be an air bubble and an embolism. But at that moment, I had the idea that Chef Fogle was the actual target of the killer."

"How did you deduce that?" asked Lt. Price.

"Put yourself in the killer's place." said Phyllis. "If you were going to kill Chef Mensch or one of the other chefs, then that chef would have been the one dropping dead. No one else was affected, so I dismissed some kind of poison that everyone might've ingested. So even without data on exactly

how

the crime was committed, I was already watching for clues that Chef Fogle was the target."

"And this was confirmed to me within a few moments," continued Phyllis, "when the epi-pen was found. It would be monstrous odds for an epi-pen meant for someone else to be accidentally injected into Chef Fogle; I immediately dismissed that. So I felt very sure that Lauren Fogle was the target."

"As we interviewed everyone," said Phyllis, "some useful data began coming out. It was Hercule Le Fleur that said the dessert chef handled the place-settings and the water and wine. The dessert chef would be the last to go; most people are not like Don as a child, when he would try to eat dessert first." There was some laughter, then Phyllis continued: "And when Chef Mensch introduced us to Chef Celeste Spencer, he said that

she was the chef that would be last to go.

"

"So," said Phyllis, "despite her very nice, and I believe heartfelt, comments to Captain Perlman about little Pete surviving that attack upon him, I was already looking at her skeptically. And her own comment to Tanya was an added clue: why would she remember what had happened so well? I did not know what it was, but it suggested to me that she had a strong reason for being drawn to Tanya's story and for remembering it so well." Tanya nodded, looking a bit sad.