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that Em hadbeen a good friend, then they’d drifted apart, then she’d fixed James up with Amanda, and finally that we were dining at L’Elfe largely because Amanda was the sous chef.
    â€œDid you ever argue with the victim?” he’d asked. “Did your relationship with Miss Wright go any further than just friends?”
    The whole question and answer thing had really upset Em. His final question was about James.
    â€œYou set your friend up on a date with a James Lessor. What’s your impression of Mr. Lessor? Does he seem to be a stable person?”
    â€œDamn,” Em said after the conversation, “James? Stable? I hope I never get asked that question in court. I couldn’t lie under oath.”
    I steered the truck by the MacArthur Causeway where two giant cruise ships were docked off to our right.
    â€œI’d think that tonight you get a chance to listen, pick up some of the conversation.”
    â€œI was thinking the same thing,” he said. “They’re going to be discussing it. It’s all over the ’net, TV.”
    â€œShould be a lot of rumors flying around. A lot of gossip in the kitchen, it’s a given, right?”
    â€œI’m sure the dining room will be buzzing too.” He was starting to get into it, I could tell by the excitement in his voice. There was also some apprehension. Starting a brand-new job was stressful.
    â€œThere is going to be a lot of interest in you, too. People wanting to know why you were hired so soon. What magic ingredient you have that caused Bouvier to make the hire.”
    James nodded. “I thought of that. And since I don’t have a good backstory, I’ll go with what I’ve got. Four-year degree, brief internship, and Cap’n Crab. Bouvier thinks I have potential. Other than that, I’m going to attempt to do a whole lot more listening than talking.”
    â€œGood idea.”
    â€œThere will probably be a lot of thrill seekers in the restaurant who can Tweet their friends and say ‘guess where I am?’ “
    â€œYou said the little guy will be there?”
    â€œTold me that he needed to be the calming influence for the next couple of nights. I think it’s a good idea. And Sophia, his wife, is supposed to be there as well. I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I mean, the way she barged into the interview. I’ve been told she kind of brings the place down.”
    Sophia Bouvier. Arguably, one of the main reasons that Chef Jean was so successful. She ran the commodity side of the business, selling the spices, the pots and pans, the cutlery.
    We’d researched the husband and wife team on the Internet. Besides the business venture, hundreds of full-time employees, the multimillion-dollar corporation with its various streams of income, besides the celebrity, the fame, and instant credibility, there was the death of Jean-Luc. The drug deal death of their son seemed to overshadow everything in the celebrity duo’s life. Maybe Sophia’s dour attitude was based on the price she paid for her position in this world.
    â€œBut remember,” James said, “I’m just there for decoration. My job is to see if there’s a killer in the house. They couldn’t give a damn about my culinary skills.” He was still miffed.
    I’d only seen him on television. Jean Bouvier was a small guy with a big mouth. He had a shtick where he’d start preparing a meal, get to a certain point, then look to the camera. He’d point his index finger in your face, give you a cute little smile and, I swear, his eyes would sparkle.
    â€œAny one of you can do what I just did,” he’d say. “That part is simple. But can you do this?”
    Then he’d whisk something or slice something or sprinkle something and supposedly the magic would happen. I’d seen himdo it a half dozen times when James was watching The Food Channel. “But can you do