Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance (3 page)

Isabella says, “She’s dressed like Audrey in
‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, too.” The lady overhears her and, looking
at Nicole, says, “Love your outfit. I think you pull it off better,
though.” They both laugh.

The 1980’s era dining room looks fit for a
company party. Two ladies wearing berets and long-sleeved black and
white striped t-shirts, say “Bonsoir,” to their guests. A man in a
tuxedo asks Joshua, “Bride or groom?”

Joshua and Gunther look at each other in
confusion and Isabella steps in and say, “Bride.”

“D’accord. Follow me,” the waiter
replies.

Once they enter, there is a man playing the
piano who’s also wearing a beret. He’s playing “Mon Legionnaire”, a
song Isabella recognizes because she’s a big fan of Edith Piaf. As
they take their seats, a woman enters, wearing a tight leopard skin
dress, elbow length black gloves, and an orchid in her hair. She
joins the pianist and starts singing “Mon Homme” in her best Edith
Piaf imitation.

Isabella whispers to Nicole, “She’s probably
going to be a floozy who’ll want to sit on the laps of the guys in
the audience. It seems like every interactive dinner show I’ve
heard of has one of those in the cast.”

Henri takes their drink orders, and the
ladies in the berets set baskets with slices of warm baguettes on
the diners’ tables. Isabella notices a large table in the middle of
the dining room that has a three-tiered wedding cake in the center.
The “members of the wedding party” enter the room and sit down at
the table. The bride still has on her wedding dress, and the groom
is in a tux. They speak among themselves, and the chanteuse stops
singing and walks over to the wedding table.

She melodramatically says to the groom,
“Pierre, what are you doing?! Why did you never call? My heart. It
has been breaking!”

The groom looks stunned and says, “Yvette, is
it really you?”

The bride clears her throat and says with a
Southern accent, “Ahem. You two? Hello? I’m here.”

She is invisible as far as Yvette is
concerned. The singer hams it up and says to him, “I’ve been trying
to find you. I’m pregnant, Pierre. The child’s father—it is
you!”

The pianist plays a few bars,
melodramatically.

The bride’s face is frozen in shock. An Arab
man walks in and says, “What’s going on in here? Why has the music
stopped! Yvette, stop talking to the customers and get back up on
the stage and start singing again. You’re not getting paid to
chit-chat, you know.”

She says to him, “Hamid. This man, he is de
father of my unborn child,” she says, holding her belly like it is
precious cargo.

He answers, “I don’t care if he’s the Sheik
of Araby. Get back to singing…or else?!”

“You frighten me, Hamid.”

“Good! Now get your derriere back up there
and sing, I tell ya.”

“Oui, monsieur.”

She starts singing “Zou Bisou Bisou” and
shimmies over to the groom.

The bride is not amused and tries to scare
her off with a knife that’s on the table. The chanteuse leaves the
groom, circles the room, and looks for men she can sing to and make
the groom jealous.

She comes over to Joshua and sits on his lap.
She runs her fingers through his hair. Isabella looks over at
Nicole. “Didn’t I tell ya?” she whispers to her friend. Joshua
seems to be enjoying himself until the singer stands up and looks
for other victims in the audience.

Suddenly, the chef comes out of the kitchen,
whisk in hand. He is furious and shouts, “Someone dared to ask for
de substitutes! That’s it! I am finis! I am an artiste! I will not
have my reputation ruined by some…(he pauses for effect)…by some
imbecile wanting substitutes! Mon dieu. Adieu. I refuse to cook for
Philistines!” He storms out the door.

The audience applauds his emoting and the
maid of honor who’s sitting next to the bride stands up and says,
“What about the rest of the meal? Are we going to have to make it
ourselves?”

Hamid comes back out and says to the
audience, “I am so sorry everybody. Our chef has just quit. I’m
afraid the cast is going to have to prepare the rest of the meal
for you.”

The bride is mock-outraged. “This is supposed
to be the best night of my life and look what’s happened. First
this floozy is all over my husband and then the chef leaves and I
must cook my own wedding supper.”

Hamid says, “I’m afraid so, Madame.”

The cast stands up from the table and throw
their napkins down. They follow each other, one by one into the
kitchen. Hamid says to the chanteuse, “You too, canary.”

She protests, “What about the piano
player?”

“He can stay to entertain the guests.”

She leaves in a huff.

*******

The cast is gone for a short time before they
return to the dining room, carrying plates. The chanteuse serves
everyone at Isabella’s table. “Are you one of the murder suspects?”
Isabella asks her, playing along.

The singer is taken aback and says, “Murder?
There’s no murder ‘appening? What do you know? I must keep my eyes
on you,” she says, pointing at Isabella, raising two fingers
towards her own eyes, and then pointing back at her.

“I’m watching you, too,” Isabella says,
playing along, and repeating the gesture right back at her.

The groom and the maid of honor come out of
the kitchen yelling at each other. The maid of honor says, “How
could you have cheated on me with that singer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he
protests.

“Who else have you been sleeping with?”

“You got it all wrong. I love my bride.”

The bride, who is serving one of the tables
says, “Did someone speak my name?”

Her maid of honor says, “No. Nobody said
anything about you.”

“Oh. Okay,” she says, looking confused and
beaten down by the turn of events.

The best man feels sorry for the bride and
says, “Let me help you with those plates.”

She answers, using her best Blanche Dubois
voice, “Why, thank you. I’ve always depended on the kindness of
strangers.”

He corrects her, “I’m not a stranger.”

“But I’ve only known you for a few
hours.”

“I feel like we’re known each other for
years,” he says, looking at her with bedroom eyes.

Isabella notices that the man in the black
suit who was standing in line with them has had a little too much
to drink. The volume of his talking grows increasingly louder. He
stands up and says to everyone in the room, “Let’s have Cristal for
everyone. All around. It’s on me.”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“Really?” members of the cast say, looking at
each other, puzzled.

He answers, “Yes. Really. Bartender, give us
your finest champagne. It’s on me.”

Clearly this is not part of the act, but the
bartender says, “Okay. Whatever you say, sir.”

Isabella looks at Nicole and says, “How weird
is this?”

Nicole says, “I won’t turn down a nice glass
of Cristal.”

“Me either,” Isabella says.

She asks Joshua, “How do you like the show so
far?”

He says, “It’s kind of fun.”

“You’re not having a good time?”

“How could I not have a good time in the
company of you two lovely ladies?”

That’s the second time he’s mentioned how
good Nicole looks tonight. Does he want her or me?

“You look funny, Isabella,” Nicole says.
“What are you thinking?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just wondering who the
murderer is going to be.”

They eat their entrees and suddenly hear a
scream off in the other room and a lot of commotion. The maid of
honor comes out into the dining room and says to the other actors,
“Come quick. Something’s happened. I think he’s been
murdered!!”

The piano player builds the suspense,
melodramatically.

Gunther looks scared and Isabella reassures
him. “Don’t worry. It’s part of the show.”

“Oh, okay. I didn’t know. I’ve never been to
one of these things.”

Isabella tells him what she has read about
these types of shows while Nicole and Joshua strike up their own
conversation. They talk about the Black Keys concert that Nicole
just went to. Joshua tells her that they are his favorite band.

Isabella, not wanting to be left out, says,
“I think they have too many rough edges. They sound like a garage
band. Besides, that lead singer’s hair always looks dirty. What’s
up with that?”

Joshua says, “They sound like a garage band
because they’re trying to sound like a garage band.”

“Oh, I see,” Isabella says, wanting to say,
“Well…excuse me!”

All of a sudden, the lights in the dining
room grow almost completely dark and a man steps out from the
kitchen with a flashlight. It’s the best man and he walks over to
the wedding table, looking for something on the floor.

He shines the flashlight around the room and
walks back into the kitchen. Next, Henri comes into the dining room
carrying his own flashlight and looking for something on the floor
by the bride’s chair.

He doesn’t find what he’s looking for either.
When the lights come back on, the diners are relieved: it was
difficult to see their plates while they’ve been eating.

Then, they hear a loud thud and another
scream, but this time it’s coming from inside the dining room. They
look around and see the lady in the polka dot dress standing and
pointing at a body on the floor. She yells, “Oh my God! My
husband!” She kneels on the floor next to him and cries, “His
head’s bleeding!” The lady who came with her kneels down next to
her and shouts to the crowd, “Somebody call an ambulance!”

Isabella looks at her friends and says, “I
don’t think this is part of the show.”

Everyone looks down in horror to see the body
on the floor. Blood is pooling around the poor man’s head. One of
the diners stands up and says, “I’m a doctor. Let me look at
him.”

The wife shouts, “Did someone call an
ambulance?!”

Hamid assures her, “Yes, Madame. They are on
their way.”

She kneels down next to her husband and tries
to make the bleeding stop with her hand.

The doctor tells her, “Let me see him.” He
kneels down next to the body. “It looks like he’s been shot in the
head.” He grabs the man’s wrist, and checks for a pulse. “I’m so
very sorry. I don’t feel a pulse,” he says to the man’s wife.

“No!” the wife screams, and the woman she’s
with tries to comfort her.

“I am her sister,” she tells the doctor.
“Can’t we cover up the body with a tablecloth or something?”

The wife says, “No! I won’t believe he’s gone
until the paramedics say so.”

Hamid says, “Okay, everybody. Let’s try to
keep calm until they get here.”

The diners whisper and murmur at their
tables. Isabella looks at Joshua, and says, “This is scary.”

He moves his chair closer to her and holds
her hand. Trying to comfort her, he says, “I’m sorry this is
happening, sweetie.”

She says, “I’m the one who’s sorry. Dragging
us all into this.”

“I wouldn’t change this night for anything,”
he says.

“You’re kidding?!”

“No. I’m serious. This is a big deal for me.
You finally agreed to go out with me. And here we are at last.”

“You probably wish we’d gone out to dinner
and then back to your place.”

“Well…I got to admit, that was my number one
choice.”

“I remember.” They both laugh. “I’ll make
this up to you, Joshua. I promise.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. Although, I
could think of some ways you could make it up to me,” he tells her
with a wink and reaches over to squeeze her knee.

The paramedics finally arrive and all eyes
are back to the man on the floor. Blood leaks out of the edges of
the tablecloth that’s covering him. The doctor and sister convince
the wife to get up off the floor and sit down at the table. Her
sister holds her hand and talks softly to her. Her sister’s date
has his eyes closed and looks like he is praying.

*******

The paramedic confirms that the man is indeed
dead.

“Don’t you want to take him to the hospital
to be sure?” the wife pleads, refusing to believe that her husband
is gone.

Her sister puts her arm around her shoulder
and says, “He’s gone, Karen.”

The paramedic says, “The body can’t be moved
until the pathologist gets here. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

The praying man opens his eyes and introduces
himself as the victim’s brother-in-law. He asks the paramedic, “Was
he shot in the back of the head?”

“It looks that way.”

“Why didn’t we hear the gun shot?”

“That will be something to take up with the
police.”

As if on cue, a patrol officer arrives at the
restaurant. He says to everyone, “Okay. Nobody leaves here until we
say so.” He walks over to the covered body and asks the paramedic,
“What have we got here?”

“The deceased looks like he’s been shot in
the back of the head. It doesn’t look like the bullet exited his
brain.”

Upon hearing this, the wife lets out a
scream. The doctor goes over to comfort her, and then asks the
paramedic if he has a sedative or anything to calm the poor woman
down.

Meanwhile, the members of the cast still have
their aprons on and serve up coffee and brandy to the diners. They
are no longer their former campy, confident selves and are just as
uncomfortable as every else in the room. What a strange twist that
they are now real-life waiters and waitresses to the paying
guests.

A man at a table says, “Can’t I go out for a
smoke?”

“Nobody leaves this room,” the cop reminds
him. He talks to the wife and her family, writing down notes in his
pad.

“What is he saying?” Isabella asks
Joshua.

“I can’t hear him either.”