Side Trip to Kathmandu (A Sidney Marsh Murder Mystery Book 3) by Marie Moore Page B

immediately cooler, just from being out of the intense sun.
    She leaned forward and tapped on the glass separating the driver from the passenger compartment.
    He opened the glass, smiling, “Yes, madam?”
    “We’ll just wait here a few minutes, Nigel, before visiting the market.”
    “Of course, madam, very good,”
    The glass slid shut. Rahim got out of the front seat and stood beside the fancy car, waving away would-be salesmen.
    Brooke heaved a big sigh. She had our full attention.
    “I had a large cocktail party followed by a small dinner for Valentine’s Day,” Brooke said, in a small voice, for once looking her age, “at my house in New York. Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays and I always have a party. My Valentine’s party has become a tradition among my friends. There were many guests invited for drinks, but only the people who are with us on this trip remained for the dinner.”
    She stopped, again staring out the window, then continued, a faraway look in her eyes.
    “As always, marking the place of each guest at the table were delightful little boxes of chocolates—tiny red satin boxes—tied up with silk ribbon. I order them from that fine candy shop on Lexington Avenue as favors. The dinner was a great success. Everyone had a good time and exclaimed over the chocolates, but they did not open them, not then. They all took them home at the end of the evening, as you do with favors. Now you both know that I love chocolate. All of my friends know I love chocolate, even though I try not to eat much of it because it’s so fattening. After everyone had gone, just before going to bed, I opened mine, took a nibble from one piece, and before long became violently ill.”
    “Brooke!” I said, shocked.
    “Yes. Fortunately, I was able to reach the phone and call the doorman, who called my doctor, Dr. Rosen. He actually lives in the building, so he came right away.”
    “Were you taken to the hospital?” Jay asked.
    “No, at the time we thought it might have been the seafood appetizer—I don’t always do well with that—or a virus. Neither of us suspected the chocolate. I was, as I said, quite ill, but Dr. Rosen treated me, stayed with me, until I was better. He felt that I would be all right by morning without going to the hospital and he was correct. But the next day, I thought about it and decided to have the remaining chocolates tested. Two of them were poisoned, including the one that I had nibbled. I am extremely lucky that it was only a nibble and not a bite. Had I eaten the whole piece I might not be here with you today. It was cleverly done. A tiny hole on the underside of each piece showed where it had been injected.”
    “What did the police say?” I asked.
    “I didn’t call the police,” she replied, lifting her chin and defiantly squaring her shoulders, red hair flaming in the light from the car window. “I decided to handle it myself, and eventually I devised the plan for this trip. I didn’t want policemen prying into my business and investigating.”
    “You didn’t want the publicity either,” Jay said.
    “Exactly. The tabloid press would love it, wouldn’t they? Just the thought of the headlines makes me shudder. I used a private lab to have the candy tested and the box examined, and paid enough to ensure that the result would remain private. The police were not involved.”
    “But Brooke,” I protested, “this is so dangerous. As you said, if you had eaten the whole little box instead of a nibble—”
    “I might have died. Yes. I am well aware of that, Sidney.”
    “Were any of the others sick?” Jay asked, frowning, exchanging glances with me.
    “No. Only me.”
    She paused, remembering, then continued in a stronger, more determined voice, “I don’t want any recommendations from either of you about calling the police. That’s not why I told you this long story. It’s too late anyway; I destroyed the evidence. I did keep the lab report, however. It