Heavenly Pleasures Read Online Free PDF Page B

traces in any products that I used, because people with a peanut allergy are prone to die if they eat the stuff, but I had sometimes had customers complaining that their bread tasted of, for example, walnuts, when the only trace of walnut in the bakery had been in a mixing tub which had been thoroughly scrubbed. Two days before. I always apologised and handed over a replacement. Some people have very sensitive tastebuds. And some, of course, are insane. In all cases it is better just to give them a new loaf and not worry about it.
    I couldn’t help noticing that Juliette had grabbed Daniel’s hand as she talked. I was struck with a pang of rampant, green-fanged jealousy. It hit me like an electric shock. I was amazed. I had never been jealous in my life. Then Daniel stretched out his other hand and took mine and gave me a look compounded of such amused understanding that jealousy lowered its head and retired abashed from the scene like a cat which has been out-cooled by Horatio. I had seen the poor things, slinking, utterly crestfallen, off the roof and retiring into private life, making feline resolutions never to cross that gentleman’s path again. Jealousy went off just like that and I hoped it wasn’t going to come back. I was shocked at myself.
    Horatio leapt neatly onto the table and curled up under Juliette’s other hand and she started to stroke him. I could practically feel her blood pressure going down. Unless they are diving into the washing-up or bouncing on your chest at three am, cats are very soothing companions.
    ‘Nice cat,’ she murmured. ‘Then another customer returned a box, and when I offered to replace it she just wanted her money back, said she’d never be able to eat my chocolates with confidence again. I went through the boxes and found that three of them had been contaminated. Then I remembered that I had given one to you and … oh, what am I to do?’
    ‘First, tell me about your shop. Tomorrow I will bring some gear and we will set up some electronic surveillance. Have a look at this,’ he said, offering her the saucer and the magnifier. Juliette peered at the bitten chocolate.
    ‘See, someone has punctured the bottom with a syringe, drawn off some of the cream, and put in some chili sauce. You can see how far it has penetrated. Then they have plugged the little hole by melting the chocolate.’
    ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘the crosshatch pattern is smeared. And the chocolate is dull,’ she went on. ‘I use best quality couverture for these. Unless it is heated properly and cooled and heated again—tempered—it won’t dry glossy. All right. That is how it was done. But why? And who?’
    ‘And how?’ I added to the questions.
    ‘That, too,’ said Daniel. ‘Who works in your shop?’
    ‘You can’t be thinking …’ Juliette began hotly, then subsided. ‘Of course you can,’ she said sadly. ‘I own the shop with my sister Vivienne. It was our inheritance from our father, who was also a famous chocolatier. Viv does most of the manufacture. I do most of the selling. Then there’s Selima who helps in the shop and Viv’s apprentice, George. He’s Greek. That’s all. I can’t imagine why any of them would want to do this. We all depend on the shop for a living.’
    ‘How do you get on with your sister?’ asked Daniel.
    ‘Fine,’ said Juliette. ‘We get on fine!’
    There was an element of defiance in that exclamation.
    ‘Good,’ said Daniel. ‘You go along home, now, have a night’s sleep. I’ll be along tomorrow with the gear. That may be enough to stop this person’s tricks. Nothing like knowing that you are being watched to regulate behaviour.’
    We saw her to the door. She ran down the stairs, seeming happier than when she had run up them, which is the most you can hope for from most human interaction.
    ‘We never seem to get any time, do we?’ he asked sadly.
    ‘I’ll just pull up the drawbridge,’ I said, ‘arm the crocodile swamps and take the phone