Think #31 12 августа 1999

Detective - "a recipe for a murder."

                 DETECTIVE


                KP Donnelly


            RECIPE FOR MURDER



  He does not expect to see ourselves
a luxury villa, and its owner
somewhat differently represented. In their
Forty years Madame Chalon not resemble
the killer - she seemed neither Cleopatra
neither the old witch. Not a woman, Minerva
he decided immediately. She had big
moist eyes, a little lighter cobalt blue Mediterranean 
sparkling in the rays sun through the windows saloon, where 
they sat together.


  Not quite Minerva, he thought, after looking to her more 
closely. Her cheeks were preserved peach blush girl of 
eighteen, and she was such a round and smooth, seductive, and 
let on the less regal, but much more

attractive. Nestol graceful woman in her weight probably would 
in future become obese, but he is instinctively felt that her 
body will maintain its weight and its forms, and in sixty years 
it will look like now, and no worse. - Glass dyubonne, 
Inspector Miron? 

  She was preparing to pour him a little
wine. He paused for a moment to answer, and
her eyes lit up wicked twinkle of surprise, but politeness is 
not allowed her to express it aloud. - Thank you.


  He was dissatisfied with himself and said it's too harsh.

  Madame Chalon sip the wine first and how
though tactfully said to him:
- You see, Mr. Myron, you have nothing
fear.

  The wine was good, even too good.

  She smiled slightly and said so
simply, without equivocation:
- You have come to know how I poisoned their
men?
- Madam!

  He smiled sheepishly:
- Madam, I ...
- You must have already visited
prefecture. The whole district believes in Villefranche
it - she said serenely.

  He pulled himself together and began to speak in an official 
tone: - Madam, I beg your permission to make the exhumation of 
bodies of Mr Charles Vesser, who died in January 1939 and Mr 
Etienne Chalons, who died in May 1946 year for a formal 
examination of certain organs. You have already denied this 
request, Luscher sergeant from the local police station. Why? - 
Lüscher completely devoid of politeness. I like it seemed 
repulsive type. Unlike from you, there is no chivalry. I refused

man, and not representative of the law.

  She put the glass to complete my lips:
- You I can not deny, Inspector Miron - in her eyes was 
something like admiration.

- You are very kind.
- Because, - she continued caressing
voice - knowing your methods of the Paris police, I'm quite 
sure that exhumation of the corpses had already been secretly 
held. She noticed that the blush on his cheeks became stronger, 
but has not filed the form. - A necessary examinations - 
continued it is as though nothing had happened - had already 
concluded. You are at a loss. You do not found. And now you 
want to understand what I am for people are trying to define my 
character, I know how cold-blooded - and between the business 
try to turn the conversation so that I confessed in his crime.


  These arrows are so neatly struck
purpose that justifies it would be the last
stupidity. Better to disarming candor - decided inspector.
- Quite so, Madame Chalon. You've got
to a point. But ... - He looked at her intently, - ... when 
women are dying, both husband of the same age - and not very

old - and both of gastric disorders, two years after his 
marriage, and each time the widow gets very

great condition ... Do you understand me? ..
- Of course - Madame Chalon went to the window of
turned so that the inspectors have seen its slim profile and 
high chest, outlined against a blue sea. - Maybe you want to 
listen to my recognition of the full, Inspector Miron? -

Inspector alert. - She was so feminine, seductive, and the voice
her murmuring so softly that he understood: he would have to 
maintain composure with difficulty. - If you're so kind, Madame 
Chalon, he replied, trying to appear as soon as possible ease. 
A dangerous woman. Extremely dangerous woman. - Then I'll tell 
you - Madame Chalon no longer smiling. Breeze, broke

the window, told him to scent of her perfume
Or is it the smell of flowers in the garden? Caution
for he did not get out of his pocket notebook. Can not be that 
here so just tell it all. And All the same ...

- Do you have any clue about the art of cooking, Mr. Myron?
- Do not forget, I am a Parisian.
- And in the art of love?
- As I said, I'm from Paris.
- In that case, she took a deep breath and
her bosom rose, - I declare to you that
I Hortense Eugenia Villerua Vesser Chalon
slowly and deliberately sacrificed
my first wife, Mr. Vesser,
fifty-seven years, and his second wife, monsieur Chalons, 
sixty-five years.

- You have, no doubt, was the fact some
why?

  What is it - a dream? Or madness?
- I married Monsieur Vesser-enforcement family. I was already 
far from being a girl and two weeks later learned that Monsieur 
Vesser - a pig, a pig with an insatiable appetite. He was 
uncouth dork, Inspector, rude, bouncers, who

robbed the poor and lied to the innocent, and besides, still a 
glutton with unscrupulous manners - in short, were all vices of 
old age, but clean no inherent softness and ripeness

dignity. And, as a consequence, he had a weak stomach.

  The inspector nodded. He became acquainted with the case
Monsieur Vesser still in Paris and received about a picture.
- A Monsieur Chalons?
- He was older - just like I did when
getting married to him.
- He also had a weak stomach? - With gentle irony asked the 
inspector. - Naturally. Better to say with a weak will. May not 
be so rude as Vesser. But in its essence, perhaps worse, because

that here he had many friends among
Germans. Why are they so climbed out of his
that we have the best and most inaccessible food and fine wine, 
when children on the streets fainted from hunger?

Maybe I'm a murderer, an inspector, but
Above all, I Frenchwoman. Therefore, I have no
qualms decided for myself
what Shalon has to die just as dead
Vesser.

  Very quietly, so as not to interrupt a thread
her story, the inspector said:
- How, Madame Chalon?

  She turned to him. On the face play
smile:
- Say, you are familiar dishes such as
"Turkey stuffed with chestnuts? Or
"Cutlets de Will venison in the Indian"?
Or filet mignon on crackers?
Or omelette surprise to Neapolitan? Or
"Riches soup a la Bagration? Or "eggplant-legged? Or the "quail 
in aspic sauce Bellevue? Or ".. - Enough, Madame Chalon! I was 
hungry and sated at the same time. What wealth

dishes! What ...
- You are interested in my methods, Inspector Miron. I took 
these courses and hundreds of others. And in each of the I have 
had to invest a little ... - It suddenly stopped.


  Inspector Myron incredible force of will
made not to shake his hand, which was
glass DUBÓN.
- You had to invest a little what, madam
Chalons?
- You have to investigate. You know
Who was my father.
- Jean-Marie Villerua, chef of the highest
class, consummate student of the incomparable Escoffier. He was 
named the sole worthy disciple of Escoffier.

- Yes, and before I turned
Twenty-two years, my father - shortly before the
his death - admitted that, except for one minor detail - it 
concerns stewing meat, he would not be ashamed treat me as an 
equal to him in class. - Very interesting. I admire your art. 
Inspector Myron with difficulty able to cope with his nerves: 
his surprised at the ability of women to speak

on irrelevant starting movie sequence of things.
- But you said that in each of these incomparable dishes you 
put a little bit ... Why? 

  Madame Chalon turned their backs on him.
"She has beautiful shoulders, - he said - the waist is also not 
so bad, and the hip simply delicious. looking out to sea, she 
said: - Just a drop of his art - and

nothing more, the inspector. Art Escoffier
or Villerua. Do people like Vesser
or Chalon could not resist in front of him? Three or
four times a day I fed them the most
diverse and delicious cuisine. I
forced them to eat to satiety, sleep, and there are again, 
forced them to drink lots of wine, that they again could have 
more and more. Strangely, even that they and so many have 
lived, let alone more! 

  The silence was like from afar
clock ticking.
- And what have the love, Madame Chalon? Forgive me, but it 
makes you talk about it first.

- Delicious food generates love - or at least
least some of its likeness. What is called
Love, Inspector. They had me. I let them have a few girlfriends 
on the side. And so they both died - Monsieur Vesser in aged 57 
years and Monsieur Chalon aged 65. That's it.


  Now from this silence the inspector rang in his ears. 
Inspector Myron rose so suddenly that the woman started, and

turned sharply. Her face was somewhat pale.
- Tonight we will go with you
Nice, Madame Chalon.
- At the police station, Inspector Miron?
- In the casino, Madame Chalon. Let's drink champagne, listen 
to music. A little more talk. - But, Inspector Miron! ..

- Listen, madam. I am a bachelor. I'm forty
four years. They say I'm not too bad
I look. I also have some savings. Maybe I'm not a big discovery 
for you, but still not worth me neglected.


  He looked into her eyes.
- I want to die.

  He squared his shoulders and took a spectacular
pose. Madame Chalon eyes appreciatively considered his most 
forthright manner. - If good food to eat in moderation -

Finally mused Madame Chalon, it is not deadly. Will not Do
you are so kind as to kiss my hand,
Inspector Myron?
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