“Show them in, bring them back here.”
Henry followed her back to the kitchen. Sitting at and on the table, a man who looked like a cook and several other staff members were drinking wine. A very large man in a smock of sorts was stirring something in a stock pot. Henry wasn’t sure what was going on, so he stood in the doorway. The man turned around.
“Hello, welcome to my home. We are having a celebration of sorts. Glass of wine?”
“No thanks. I’m Henry Wood. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
Andre shook Henry’s hand. “I am pleased to meet you. Ask away. Do you mind if I keep an eye on my broth?”
“No, not at all, it smells great.”
Andre waved his hand towards the counter on the other side of the massive kitchen. “If not wine, may I offer you some strudel? It is wonderful and freshly made.”
Henry noticed the cook grinning ear to ear, and then the maid said, “The best strudel you have ever tasted.” She kissed the old cook on the top of his bald head.
“What are you celebrating, and yes, I would love some strudel.”
The other maid cut him a piece, put it on a plate, and then got a glass of milk.
“Mr. Wood, we are celebrating a birthday of sorts. Today I have stopped being the complete ass everyone who has ever met me has known and loathed. I reached a pinnacle of meanness over the last few days, as my staff will attest.”
They all nodded, and the cook said, “Yes, but you made amends and all is forgiven.”
The maid who had answered the door bounced over to Henry and showed him a check. “He gave us all a pay raise, apologized, and then gave us each a bonus. I also got a new uniform.” She spun around to show Henry. “It is much nicer.”
Andre Garneau said, “I used to make her wear the most dreadful outfit…let’s just say that she endured my old lecherous ways for far too long. You see, Mr. Wood, somewhere along the line, I became a monster. My staff has suffered for a long time. Their years of loyalty, quiet suffering, and exemplary service should be rewarded. I am going to enjoy life, but not at the expense of others.” He tasted the soup and added more salt.
“May I ask what brought about this epiphany?”
“You certainly may, and what’s more, I will be happy to tell you. I collect art, or should I say, I obsess about art. There is an auction coming up, and I coveted the item so much it drove me to the brink of madness. Last night I realized that even if I won the auction, the happiness I would feel would be hollow and meaningless. I can take far more joy in cooking than I ever could sitting alone in a room admiring my collection.”
“What were you going to bid on?”
“It was an ancient machine, which supposedly could calculate the position of stars, and was in complete working order. It was over 2,000 years old and supposedly had been perfectly preserved. It would have been the crown jewel of my collection, that is, until I decided I didn’t want it anymore.”
The chauffeur walked in and said hello, grabbing a piece of strudel. “Hey, I am Claude.”
“Henry. Pleased to meet you. What do you do?” Henry asked, already knowing.
“I am Mr. Garneau’s driver.”
Henry took another bite. “The strudel is really remarkable, my compliments to the chef. So you aren’t going to the auction?”
“Nope, and what’s more, I am going to sell most of my collection, all the pieces which I bought merely for the lust of collecting. There are some which have meaning, and those I will treasure. May I ask you a question?”
“It seems only fair.”
“Mr. Wood, are you the person hired to figure out who is coming to the auction?”
Henry looked at the jolly man cooking and laughing with his staff and considered giving him a straight answer, but it wasn’t how he worked. He had made a promise to a client. It was important. “Actually, I am looking into the murder of the man hired. He was my friend.” It was true.
Andre stopped stirring and looked at Henry. The look was genuine and was not the sort of expression worn by a man who ordered a hit.
“I am sorry to hear it. Who was your friend?”
“His name was Michael Thomas Moore. He taught me the trade.”
The room became very quiet. Andre pulled out a chair for Henry and then sat down across the corner of the table. “Please, Mr. Wood, ask me anything you need to. I will help you as best I can.”
“Who is behind the sale?”
There was a knock at the front door, and the maid hustled out to answer it. Andre looked up. “My, we are receiving a lot of guests today. I am sorry, what did you ask me?”
The maid returned with an envelope and handed it to Garneau.