Ellen McKenzie 03-And Murder for Desser by Kathleen Delaney Page A

sure you are aware that my wife, Sabrina, and I are recent additions. We hope that this, our first event, hasn’t disappointed you.”
    A smattering of applause and Mark went on.
    “Of course, the true credit goes to our chef, who needs no introduction, but I would like him to come out of the kitchen so we can thank him personally. Otto Messinger, ladies and gentlemen.”
    This time a bigger round of applause and Otto appeared.
    “Will you look at that,” Dan whispered. “The guy can smile.”
    “It’s a wonderful thing, applause,” I said.
    “Check out Frank,” Dan whispered. “Otto’s not getting any applause from him.”
    He wasn’t getting any from Jolene, either. I hoped that Otto wouldn’t notice but would have bet even money that he did.
    “Thank you, Otto,” Mark continued, neatly cutting off the speech Otto looked like he was about to deliver. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, please join me in the cellar. We will do a little barrel tasting, a sneak preview of next year’s releases, and I will try to answer any of your questions about wine making. I’m sure we all need a little stretch before we try the wonderful main course Otto has for us, and he tells me dessert will be a big surprise. I will join you in the cellar.”
    Chairs were pushed back, laughter and chatting resumed, and people started to move. Most headed toward the stairway that led down to the cellar floor; others headed for the restrooms. Frank assisted Aunt Mary with her chair; Carlton was on his feet heading for Jolene’s. Too late. Ian Applby got there first. Dan and I grinned at each other and started to push back our own chairs when Otto descended.
    “I trust you are all enjoying the meal?” He stood there, arms folded across his chest, jaw sticking out, tall hat quivering.
    “It’s magnificent, Otto,” Ian Applby told him. He reached out and steadied Jolene. “One of your finest efforts.”
    “You are right. Although I am sure it has not received fine comments. Not around this table full of thieves and liars.” He glared up at all of us except Aunt Mary. She was the only one at his eye level.
    “I would be very careful, Otto. Someday my good temper will fail me.” Frank’s low, soft baritone seemed somehow more threatening in comparison to Otto’s unfortunate squeaky tenor, which now went up in pitch.
    “I am not only a great chef; I am an honest man,” Otto went on, ignoring Frank’s threat. “This one,” he pointed to Jolene, who now slipped her arm through Ian Applby’s, “has no palate to taste the wine, no discrimination for the food, and no talent for the writing. Bah! Hypocrite!” Finished with Jolene, he turned back to Frank and with a sweeping gesture included Mark. “It is only too bad she doesn’t write about the Tortellis as they really are. As thieves. Like father, like son.”
    “Now hold it,” Mark exploded.
    “How dare you!” Frank said.
    “How dare I? Easily.” Otto folded his arms and nodded, making his hat tremble.
    “That is a terrible thing to say,” stated Aunt Mary.
    “It is a terrible thing to do,” persisted Otto. “Mr. Applby, you are supposedly an intelligent man. Why then have you chosen for yourself a nest of vipers?”
    “I think you had better explain.” Ian Applby’s tone was low, but grim. He still held onto, or propped up, Jolene, but his glare was directed at Sabrina, who now appeared behind Mark.
    “Frank Tortelli made his reputation on one of my recipes. That is a well known fact,” started Otto.
    “Known only to you,” Frank said, through gritted teeth.
    “No. To others, as you well know. And his son, his son steals wine!” finished Otto, triumphant.
    “Steals—I knew it.” Carlton Carpenter had been uncharacteristically quiet up to now but evidently could no longer contain himself.
    “Ah, the real estate man. The investment advisor,” Otto sneered “So, you are here, also. Are you looking for other clients to cheat?”
    “What are you talking