GUNNED by Elaine Macko Page B

Annie and I both reached for a piece at the same time and had each devoured our morsel before the guys had time to take off their jackets.
    “You two look like you haven’t eaten for days.” John gave me a smile and then reached for a piece himself.
    “Hours. Not days. We haven’t eaten since breakfast with Shirley,” I said, before I caught myself.
    John eyed me suspiciously. “Shirley?”
    “Yeah, she knew Annie was arriving and was dying to meet her. Shirley’s always wanted to go to Belgium.”
    My husband was well aware that Shirley was a private detective and I could see the detective part of him kick in.
    Annie picked up on my misdirection of the facts immediately and added, “I think she will be coming for a visit soon. She seemed very eager with all her questions. I hope I gave her some good suggestions.”
    John stared at me while he chewed his bread, and I could tell he wasn’t buying any of it, but I wasn’t about to cave in. If he wanted to know what we were really up to all day, he was going to have to pry it out of us. Or arrest me.
    “What have you both been doing all day?” Gerard asked. Gerard Willix was a man who liked to have fun. He was portly, with a balding head and a large nose, and a twinkle in his eye that hadn’t diminished even with all the horrific things he had witnessed in his long career as a Belgian police detective.
    “Alex took me for a lovely drive along the coast. And we did a bit of shopping. We found this delightful candy shop that so reminds me of Wittamer. Gerard, I picked up a few pieces of marzipan for you.”
    “ Bon ! Perhaps we can enjoy them after dinner with a nightcap when we get home.”
    Annie gave me a quick wink from across the table and I knew right then that she could teach me a few things about misdirection.
    “And how about the two of you?” I asked. “Have you found out anything more about why Mr. Spiegel was killed?”
    My husband conveniently perused his menu, but Gerard, always very gregarious, was more forthcoming with information.
    “ Bien sûr . The late Mr. Spiegel had some issues with his brother Jerry, and we are looking into exactly where the brother was at the time of Mr. Spiegel’s murder. He is a very odd man who perhaps harbored a lifelong, oh, what is the word?  Grudge? Yes, grudge against his late brother. These feelings that people hide have a way of bubbling to the surface, no. And it seems the deceased had a problem with a co-worker, which had escalated to the point of a fist fight at work. We have been pursuing a line of inquiry with the police in North Carolina. It can be very difficult to understand this southern dialect, no?”
    Our waiter came back for our orders and the four of us opted for the same thing—tagliatelle with smoked salmon. When he left, I turned back to Gerard.
    “Yes, it can, Gerard. I’ve had some people from the deep south come into my agency and I admit I’ve had to ask them to repeat themselves more than once. So you think this fight with his co-worker was so serious that the man followed Mr. Spiegel all the way to Connecticut to kill him? That must have been some disagreement.”
    John shook his head. “The guy works at the White Plains office of the company Mr. Spiegel worked for. They got into it a couple of weeks ago when this guy was in the North Carolina office for a meeting. Mr. Spiegel accused him of shoddy work that caused a lot of problems on one of their jobs. Someone got hurt, though not seriously, and there’s talk that the client may sue. Looks like Sheldon Spiegel was in the right, according to the people we spoke with today, and I guess it was the other guy who threw the first punch.”
    “But why did this man blame Mr. Spiegel? If he did such bad work that it caused someone to get hurt, why would it be Mr. Spiegel’s fault?”
    “The guy, Jerome Perry, who lives in Port Chester, is a real hot head, and he didn’t like how Sheldon handled the whole thing. Mr. Perry was getting