French Cuisine Can Kill You Read online

  "Are you threatening me?"

  "I'm just warning you. Good night."

  The man walked down the corridor, and went into his room. Amanda closed her door and sat on her bed. Her heart was pounding.

  D'Artagnan put his head on her lap, giving her the sweetest look. Guess what I'm going to ask you?

  "Let me guess. I've just been threatened by a dangerous stranger, but you, you want food?"

  Bingo! D'Artagnan happily wagged his tail.

  Chapter 40

  A woman Amanda had never seen before placed mini-cakes and mini-pies gently on a silver platter with carved handles. She put a lot of care into creating a harmonious arrangement, alternating the shapes and the colors of the pastries. Then she pulled out another tray of hot pastries from a ceramic oven.

  Odd, thought Amanda. What was this woman doing in the kitchen castle? How did she get in? And why is she wearing this long brown skirt and a bonnet on her head?

  A man wearing a black and white suit with a white cloth over a folded forearm stepped down into the kitchen.

  "Hurry up, we'll bring the cake in a few minutes."

  "It's coming, it's coming!" answered the woman, visibly irritated at being rushed. The man left.

  A kettle whistled on the cooktop. The woman ran to a cupboard and took out several teacups and saucers that she placed on another silver tray.

  She removed the steaming kettle from the cooktop, holding the handle with a rag, and poured water into a teapot. She waited a few minutes and filled the cups with tea. Then she stopped and looked at the last empty cup on the tray, hesitating.

  Why did she stop?

  The woman looked in the cupboard to her right, the one from which she had taken the cups. She put the teapot on the table and opened the cupboard. She stood up on the tip of her toes, extending her arm to reach a hidden box placed behind some dishes, on the top shelf. She opened it, looked inside, and looked at the empty teacup on the tray. She opened a drawer, took a teaspoon, and walked back to the tray. She plunged the teaspoon in the box and scooped a spoonful of tiny white flowers that she dropped in the empty cup. Then she lifted poured tea into it. Her hand was shaking.

  The servant in black and white was back.

  "Is it ready? I have to take these trays now."

  The woman nodded, and the man left with the trays.

  As he walked by Amanda, she noticed that the teacup into which the woman had put the white flowers bore the initials M.D.O., written in gold.

  She had seen this cup before. Hadn’t she?

  The woman walked slowly toward Amanda, wiping her hands with a washcloth, and stopped in front of her.

  "I'm asking you again. What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

  Amanda walked along Brigadier Street, still disoriented by the bad dream from the previous night. She also wondered if the whole population of Orvilly had deserted the village. Where were all the people? There wasn't a soul in the streets, not even a cat on the sidewalks. Not a sound.

  She was surprised and relieved when she saw that the bakery was open. The little bell rang when she pushed in the door to step into the blue store. Amanda stood alone for a few seconds in front of the displays, admiring the perfectly aligned rows of cakes and pastries inside the glass counters. The colorful and aromatic temptations were an invitation to indulge.

  "Good morning, Amanda. It's nice to see you again." Pierre arrived from the back room and stood behind the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, showing his strong biceps.

  Nice, thought Amanda. Apparently making bread and cakes built a lot of muscle.

  Pierre smiled when he noticed what she was looking at. She blushed and felt embarrassed.

  "What can I do for you, Amanda?"

  "May I have four apple turnovers, please."

  "Sure. Would you like them in a box or in a bag?"

  "In a box, please."

  Pierre took some tongs to grab the half-moon shaped golden pastries and put them in a white box. He sealed the box with a silver sticker, and wrapped it up with a blue string in a fancy bow. Amanda smiled. The man was muscular, and yet very gentle with his hands.

  "Anything else?" asked Pierre.

  "Yes. The whole store, please," said Amanda.

  They laughed.

  "I'm surprised to see that you're open today. All the stores are closed. It's dead outside. What's going on?"

  "Nothing," answered Pierre, "it's just Sunday. Nothing happens in the cities, and even less in the villages, in France on a Sunday. Everything is closed, except for bakeries. French people like their baguettes!"

  "I see. But you never close, then?"

  "Yes, I close on Mondays."

  "Why is that? French people need baguettes on Sundays, but they don't need any on Mondays?"

  Pierre chuckled.

  "No, they do. But if they really need bread on Monday, they can go to the grocery store to buy some."

  "I see... quite different from Canada. Our stores are open every day of the week. I guess that buying bread or cakes requires some planning here."

  "You can say that. Are you going to share these turnovers with d'Artagnan and Bronx?"

  "No, it's not for them, but for someone in Bellevue House."

  "Oh, did you finally make friends with Germaine Parmentier?" asked Pierre, making a funny face.

  "Certainly not. I'm going to visit a man there, Louis Lamour. He writes for the Gazette. Maybe you know him?"

  Pierre laughed.

  "So, he got to you already? Damn, this man is old but quick."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Louis Lamour has the reputation of being the 'Don Juan' of Bellevue House. A lot of ladies there are after him. He always manages to get what he loves the most: apple turnovers and beautiful women. Today, he'll have both. What did he do to deserve such a privilege?"

  Amanda blushed and mumbled something. Could an intelligible sentence come out of her mouth?

  "Oh, he just agreed to answer a few questions about an article he wrote in the Gazette, to help me with my investigation. In exchange, he asked for turnovers."

  "Ah, I see... He practices extortion now to get what he wants."

  Amanda giggled.

  "If it makes the old man happy, why not," she said. "Well, I have to go now. Thank you, Pierre, have a good day."

  Amanda took the box with the turnovers from the counter and walked to the door.

  "Amanda?" said Pierre.

  Amanda turned around.

  "I'm aware that Louis Lamour is way more attractive than I am, but would you accept an invitation for dinner?"

  Was there another word for 'blushing' when someone is boiling so much inside that they look as red as a lobster outside?

  After a few seconds of silence that felt like ten minutes, Amanda remembered that she had to answer the question.

  "Sure. When?"

  "What about this Saturday evening? Would that work for you?"

  "Sure. Where?"

  Geez! She knew words other than 'sure.'

  "At my place, upstairs. We could go to The Old Calvados, but this is the only restaurant in the village, and I'd rather not give people an opportunity to gossip. Do you like Italian food?"

  "I love food."

  Another brilliant answer...

  Pierre laughed.

  "Wonderful. Then have a good week, and I'll see you on Saturday for a dinner... with food."

  Chapter 41

  A manda arrived at Bellevue House walking on a cloud, bearing an ecstatic grin on her face. She stood in front of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open, but hadn't even pushed the button.

  "Madam," said the employee at the desk, "if you're here to visit Mr. Lamour, he's in the dining room, on your left."

  "Thank you. How did you know I was here for Mr. Lamour?"

  The woman shrugged. "Because you're carrying a box of pastries."

  "Ah, I see... The turnovers gave me away."
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  Amanda walked to the dining room where most of the tables were full. The residents were talking loudly and had just finished their lunch, enjoying coffee and dessert. Amanda scanned the room and saw Louis Lamour sitting at a table at the far end. The old man smiled like a child when he saw her walking toward him, carrying a little white box.

  "You didn't forget! Good. Sit down," said Lamour.

  "Oh, I just came to bring you these,” answered Amanda, “I don't want to bother you."

  "You don't bother me. I'm bored to death and I'm trying to avoid talking to this one on my left." He gave a sidelong glance at a woman sitting beside him and tapped his hand on an empty chair to invite Amanda to sit down. The elderly woman was all smile, desperately waiting for any hint of interest from Louis Lamour.

  "Why don't you want to talk to this lady?" whispered Amanda. "She looks nice."

  "She's old, boring and deaf. That's why you don't need to whisper."

  The man wasn’t afraid of being blunt.

  "No offense, Louis, but there are a lot of people like this, here. Including you."

  "Me? Not at all! I hear perfectly well, and I'm not boring. Let's see those apple turnovers."

  Amanda cut the string and opened the box. Louis's eyes opened wide.

  "Wonderful! Have one with me." The man waved at a waitress with a coffee pot in her hands who stood a few tables away from them. She walked toward them. "This lovely woman would like a coffee. Could you pour her some, please, sweetheart?" asked Louis.

  The waitress smiled as she poured the beverage into an empty cup on the table. "I see that you have made a new conquest, Mr. Lamour. There’s no stopping you."

  The old man shrugged and boasted. "What do you want me to say? I'm irresistible."

  Amanda and the waitress laughed.

  "Lucky you. Well, I'll let you enjoy your date and go back to work then." The waitress winked at them and walked away.

  Louis took a turnover in his shaking hands and opened his mouth wide, way before the pastry arrived at destination. He bit into the delicacy, closing his eyes to better savor the moment. "I'm in Heaven. Best turnovers ever!" said Louis, chewing his pastry. "So, tell me, did you learn more about this man in the picture?"

  "No, unfortunately, I didn't," said Amanda, disappointed.

  Louis Lamour gave her a quick glance of disdain. "You wouldn't make a very good journalist."

  Should she take back the box with the three remaining turnovers? Amanda refrained from doing so. Maybe being blunt was a quality that came with age. “I don’t know who this man is yet,” she stressed the last word, “but I had an unpleasant encounter with him. He knocked at my door last night, threatened me, and ordered me to mind my own business. So, at least, I know that I'm on the right track. And I have a meeting with someone tonight at the castle who's supposed to give me some information."

  Louis stopped eating. He looked at Amanda, intrigued. Sadness clouded his eyes. "But, there's nobody left at the castle."

  "No. I mean that I'll meet this person somewhere outside, by the castle... Louis, I'm the new owner of the castle, you knew that, right?"

  The old man put his half-eaten turnover on the table and froze. "You... you bought the castle?"

  Amanda wondered why this news had suddenly affected the man. "No, I didn't buy it. I inherited it. What's wrong?"

  "So, you knew Toinette?"

  "No, unfortunately I never had the chance to meet her. Did you know her?"

  A tear formed at the corner of Louis's eye.

  "Yes," he whispered, "I knew her very well."

  "Was she a friend of yours?"

  "We were more than friends. We were lovers."

  Amanda was stunned. "You were lovers?" said Amanda out loud.

  "Shush! Not so loud, people will hear you. The not-so-deaf ones, I mean. There are some wagging tongues here who love gossiping."

  "You and Toinette were lovers?" whispered Amanda, still flabbergasted.

  "Yes. What's so incredible about that?"

  "Nothing... it's just that... I wasn't expecting this. So, you knew Toinette very well?"

  "Toinette had been a friend of mine for many years, and the year before she passed, we became lovers."

  Amanda frowned.

  "Yes, old people make love too, you know," said the man.

  "All right, yes... so you know many things about Toinette and the castle then?"

  "I know some things, yes."

  "What do you know?"

  "Well, let’s see… I know about the ghosts." Louis took back his half turnover and kept working on it.

  "The ghosts?"

  "Yes. Why do you repeat everything I say? Are you deaf too?"

  "No, no... tell me about the ghosts, please."

  "I can tell you about them. But if I tell you, you'll just think that I'm a crazy old man who's making up stories."

  "No, Louis, I promise I won't. In fact, I think that I’ve seen a ghost there."

  Louis turned his head to Amanda with great interest. "Which one?"

  Amanda froze.

  "'Which one?' What do you mean 'which one?' Is there more than one?"

  "Oh yes! So, which one did you see?"

  Amanda was slack-jawed.

  "Uh... I saw the one in the kitchen."

  "Which one in the kitchen?"

  Amanda was horrified.

  "You mean that there is more than one ghost, just in the kitchen?"

  "Yes. I just told you, there are a lot of ghosts in this castle! So, which one? Did you see it well?"

  "I saw the shape of a woman, I believe, hiding in a corner... Strangely enough, I think I saw her in my dream last night. She wore a long brown skirt, a white shirt and a cap. She must've been a cook there."

  "Ah, yeah, that one. She's the nastiest one."

  Amanda's throat tightened. "What do you mean by 'nasty?'"

  "She yells at people to frighten them so they get out of the kitchen. She moves dishes and cutlery or even makes them disappear. She locks people in the basement. She still thinks that it's her kitchen. Let's say that she's quite 'territorial.'" Louis had barely finished his first turnover when his hand was already snatching a second one. He took the pastry from the box without hesitation.

  "So, she used to work in the castle?"

  "Yes. During the nineteenth century."

  "The nineteenth century?"

  "And you keep repeating what I just said! It's getting annoying, you know... Yes, nineteenth century. I don't know if you've noticed, but nowadays people don't dress the way she does to cook."

  "So, if you saw her, Toinette saw her too?"

  "Oh yes. Even though Toinette was used to her, she avoided interacting with the cook because she was a real pain in the ass. So Toinette barely used the kitchen after her last employee left. The employee had had enough dealing with this crazy ghost cook."

  This explained the piles of empty cans that were found in a bin behind the castle after Toinette died.

  "Has she done more than frighten people or displace things?" asked Amanda.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Has this ghost… killed people?"

  "How could a ghost kill someone? You say silly things.” They were having a conversation about a ghost, and yet, Amanda was the one saying silly things? “But in her time, she did kill someone though. I think she poisoned the one whose portrait is in the hall, above the chimney. I forgot her name.”

  “You mean Mélie? She poisoned Mélie d’Orvilly?”

  “Yes, that one.”

  “Why did she do that?”

  “I don’t know everything about this family! They’ve been here for centuries. Too many stories.”

  "All right. But, by any chance, do you know this ghost’s name? Or this woman’s, shall I say?"

  Louis Lamour pondered for a moment.

  "Jeannette. I think Toinette told me her name was Jeannette."

  "What is she so angry about?"

  "Old stories, things that happened
in the castle. I told you, I don't know much about all that. I never investigated the stories. Didn’t have the time or the desire to do so. Had enough work with my articles for the Gazette." Louis was still eating. The man’s stomach had no bottom.

  "So, you said 'them.' What about the other ghosts?"

  "Oh my God, there's tons of ghosts there! It would take too long to talk about them all." Amanda's face turned white. She took a quick sip of coffee.

  Louis Lamour grinned and waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the lot of them. "Don't worry, they're not all nasty like the cook."

  Not 'all?' Speaking of ‘nasty,’ something bad was coming their way, and it wasn’t a ghost. A group of women walked toward Louis's table and, lo and behold, Germaine Parmentier was one of them.

  "Oh no, are you kidding me?" said Amanda, "Not her again!"

  The women were getting closer. Amanda panicked, she had to do something. She didn't want another unpleasant meeting with that awful woman so she pushed her spoon on purpose to drop it on the floor, and dived under the table, pretending to look for it.

  "What are you doing?" asked Louis, looking under the table.

  "Shush!" whispered Amanda.

  "Just grab the damn spoon over there. It's not so difficult. What's wrong with you?"

  Unfortunately, the group of women stopped at Louis's table.

  "Good afternoon, Louis."

  Amanda recognized Germaine's voice.

  "I see that you have a visitor today?" The woman pointed at the cup of coffee and the empty seat beside the man.

  "Yes," answered Louis.

  "Ah. A nice family visit, I suppose?” asked Germaine. The woman sounded extremely agreeable. Did she have a personality disorder?

  "No. I forgot her name. But she brought me apple turnovers."

  The woman noticed a foot under the table. "What is this person doing under the table?"

  "Grabbing a spoon," answered Louis.

  Parmentier lifted the salmon table cloth and found Amanda. "You again!" said Germaine Parmentier. "You're everywhere I go! It's unbearable! Are you following me?"

  Amanda left her hiding spot, brushed off some dust on her pants, and sat back on her chair.

  "It's a pleasure to see you again Mrs. Parmentier. Why would I want to follow you?"