End of the previous episode: But why on earth had she asked him the question? And how did she know about the evening he had spent? And, after all, what if her question, unusual as it was, was exactly what she meant? Questions swirled in Fred’s head, who went back into cop mode as soon as the mayor and some of his team entered.
Everyone was seated in the large meeting room and Fred began the very brief account of the latest investigations, emphasizing one point: “The murder of Franck Viano is a mistake in the murderer’s process. This means he was aware of the filming of a ‘dinner almost perfect’ and the recipe that was going to be presented but didn’t know it wasn’t a creation of his victim. We are currently looking for everyone who may have had any connection, however slight, with this show and we would be happy if you could provide us with a list of people who were aware of it in the city and the metropolis,” Fred requested.
“You’ll have it in the hours to come, Mr. Ségur. This murder was a terrible shock for me and for all my running mates, and even victory had a strange taste after this tragic event.” The mayor had now turned to one of his advisors, asking him to get this information as soon as possible.
“Another thing, we found a partial fingerprint that our lab was able to reconstruct but, for now, we haven’t found any match in our files. Do you have any idea, Mr. Mayor?” the investigator asked.
“I’ll see what I can do on my end, I have some contacts who might be useful to you,” replied the elected official.
After giving the last details, Fred handed over four folders packed with documents to the Mayor’s assistants, who took them before disappearing behind the glass door of Fred’s office.
“I repeat, I am at your complete disposal, day and night, along with all the forces we have. I trust you and hang in there, one day you’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel,” the mayor said as he shook Fred’s hand firmly, a message Fred understood well.
Fred’s phone vibrated. “Ciao Papa, are you still picking me up tonight to go to Aunt’s?” His son’s voice reassured him. “Yes, of course, don’t forget to take the two foie gras in the fridge, it’s for Aunt.” “Okay, Dad, and in an insulated bag…,” Francesco replied jokingly, hanging up right at the school bell. Fred smiled as he put his phone back into his jacket pocket.
“Come here a moment, Fred…” Vincent called from the back of his office.
“Come in, have a seat…” Said the chief, pointing to one of the two brown leather armchairs, getting up to take a seat in the one closest to his desk.
“Indeed I haven’t mentioned anything to you, but Céline came to see me this morning and she seemed very upset. Do you know anything?” Vincent inquired.
“I think I might know. I went out, well, I was supposed to go out with Marine the night Franck was murdered, and I think she found out, don’t ask me how, I have no idea. When I passed her by the copier, she asked me if I had a good evening, and I found it unusual. Your comments confirm to me that’s likely why.” Fred was surprised.
“Did you suspect anything?” Vincent asked.
“Of course not… I’m just as surprised, and it proves that just because we’re cops doesn’t mean we have great instincts for those things. I’m going to go talk to her,” Fred finished, leaving the comfortable chair towards Céline’s office.
He had barely stepped into the corridor when a police officer quickly approached him. “Chief, another body has been discovered downtown at the ‘La Vénus’ restaurant.” The precinct was abuzz in seconds when Céline emerged from the office followed by the experts. “Here’s your jacket and sorry for earlier, that was lame.” Céline’s smile was almost enough for forgiveness.
Everyone walked to the restaurant on foot, as it was only a few hundred meters from the precinct. A wide police cordon already surrounded the establishment, which was closed for renovation. Fred and his team entered through the sides into a large room that led directly to the kitchens.
“Watch out, don’t go further, there’s liquid nitrogen everywhere,” warned Sam, who had arrived a few seconds before them. “Hi Fred, I saw the body, it’s behind this stove, at first glance it has been ‘cryogenized,’ meaning immersed in, or rather with, liquid nitrogen. We must be very careful as it’s as fragile as crystal. I’m waiting for feedback from a friend, an expert on the matter, who should call me back in the next few minutes.” Sam concluded.
“What do we know about the chef?” Fred asked.
And it was Céline who provided the first answers live from her tablet: “David Reufa, Michelin-starred and a champion of molecular cuisine. He’s been at ‘La Vénus’ for about ten years and he’s quite media-oriented judging by the number of press clippings I find on him. I’m heading back to the office to initiate further investigations.” And she left the group to make the journey in reverse.
“I’m going to the hotel to get one of my briefcases,” Marine explained in turn, also taking her leave.
“And, I’m sure by looking at his menu we’ll find Niçoise cuisine…” Fred had barely opened the beautiful restaurant menu, which indeed featured a molecular Niçoise salad and a ‘spherized’ chard pie.
“We’re heading back to the office and we’ll meet in the conference room.” Fred ordered as he left the restaurant.
In a few minutes, everyone was seated around Vincent, who had joined them and had started a videoconference with Paris. The news was making headlines in all the press, and the killer with a Niçoise twist was on all the front pages from daily newspapers to various magazines.
“He’s taunting us a few meters from the precinct. We’re dealing with a very intelligent person who understood that we realized his last murder was a mistake. That’s likely why he acted like this,” analyzed Marine quite rightly, which Céline watched directly in the eyes.
“That’s right, and there are only two places where this type of information circulates, with us and at the city hall. We need to tighten the watch among us and nothing should leak from this group,” Vincent ordered.
“Yes, the less we say about the case, the better our chances of keeping a decent distance between him and us,” Fred replied.
“Him… or her!” Céline punctuated.
“Yes her, it’s entirely possible and nothing, to date, can let us lean towards one possibility or the other. I think, like the other murders, everything will be perfectly cleaned up, and we will find no more clues than elsewhere. Fred, form a team of four including yourself, and see what you can find with the mayor and his staff to try and get more information on the agents and elected officials likely to have had contact with the file.” Vincent suggested more than commanded, as he handed Fred the famous business card, which he slipped into the pocket of his shirt.
“This case, it takes up most of our lives right now. What would you say to a dinner with colleagues at a good local table?” asked the head of the Parisian experts.
“Tonight, I have my son and we’re invited to his aunt’s, but I can give you the exact place to enjoy and please your taste buds,” Fred replied on the spot.
Everyone finally accepted the idea, and it was ultimately Fred who provided the gastronomic suggestion by sending the group to Diego at Papayou, right in the heart of Vieux-Nice, which had seen him born and had seen his son born.
And, not to be late for the meeting with him, Fred bid a general farewell to everyone, picking up his helmet, gloves, and jackets he had carefully prepared for a swift departure.
