Death on a Silver Platter Read Free

learned that Rudy, Sophie’s son, would be taking over the majority of the duties at the paper and that Sophie’s involvement would have limits, the grousing turned to manageable murmurings.
    Bram understood something fundamental about Sophie, and for that she was grateful. Food would always be one of her prime passions. Since she’d done reviews for the paper in the past, the job offer hadn’t come completely out of left field. In a few more years she hoped to bow out gracefully and let her son take over as senior restaurant critic—as long as he promised to allow her an occasional guest review.
    “Your mother wants to talk to you,” shouted Henry. The connection was growing worse. “I’ll say good-bye.”
    “Bye, Dad,” said Sophie, noticing one of her maintenance men rush past the open door. He was soaking wet from head to toe.
    “Hi, honey,” said Pearl, Sophie’s mother. “How’s Bram feeling?”
    “Much better,” said Sophie. “He’s lost almost twentyfive pounds since the surgery.”
    “Good for him. Give him my love.”
    “I will,” said Sophie.
    Bram had undergone double bypass surgery last November. That was ten months ago. He was doing much better now, almost back to his normal self. Except, his illness had caused repercussions that Sophie hadn’t entirely expected. Bram had always been so full of zest and selfconfidence. He made no bones about loving the good life—champagne and chocolate cake at midnight when he was in the mood, dancing on the balcony with Sophie in the middle of a snowstorm. He had wit and unpredictability, and Cary Grant good-looks. And yet, lately, he’d turned into Mr. Fitness Center. Mr. Sprouts and fresh greens with low-fat dressing.
    Sophie understood his motivation: He didn’t want to die. He was fifty-two years old, several years older than Sophie, with a family history of heart problems. His father had suffered a heart attack when he was fifty-two, and his uncle on his father’s side had died of heart problems at the same age. Bram would be fifty-three soon, so he’d beaten the family curse, but he was still scared. And that fear was on the verge of turning him into a different person.
    “We’re heading up to Shanghai tomorrow,” continued Sophie’s mother. “Then on to Tokyo. We should be home soon. We’ll call later and give you all the particulars—the flight number and arrival time.”
    “Great,” said Sophie, hearing a crash in the next room.
    “Is something wrong? You sound kind of funny.”
    “I feel like I’m standing on the deck of the Titanic .”
    “What?” said Pearl. “This connection isn’t very good. Sounded like you said you were standing on the deck of the Titanic .” She giggled.
    “I’m fine, Mom. We’ll all be so glad to finally have you home again.”
    “Honey, your father just walked out of the bathroom. He’s signaling that he wants to talk to you again.”
    Henry came on the line. “Soph, here’s the skinny. I want you to call that friend of yours, Elaine . . . whatever her last name is now.”
    “She’s gone back to her maiden name,” said Sophie. “Veelund.”
    “Whatever. Tell her that when we get back, Pearlie and I are gonna look for some land up on Pokegama Lake. I want that company of hers to build us a log house. We’re done with our jet-setting lifestyle for a while, so I want to have a spot where we can go when we feel like getting out of the city. A place where I can fish, and where your mom can meditate on her new Buddhist leanings.” He laughed, calling, “Pearlie, stop it. I’m an old man. I can’t take that kind of excitement.”
    Sophie could only imagine what her mother was doing to him.
    “See if you can get me some hard details, Soph. I know they have packages, standard plans, that sort of thing. Find out what you can, okay? I want to move on this right away when I get back.”
    “Sure, Dad. I’ll call Elaine tonight.”
    “You’re still buddies with her, right?”
    “We’re