In the Kitchen Read Free Page B

waiters' locker room, he'd probably been drinking, he was going back to his room, he slipped, he banged his head, he died. Tragic, yes. Mysterious, no, not at all.'
    'Lord only know,' repeated Oona.
    Gabe picked up a pen, clicked the top to release the nib and clicked again to retract it. He wondered what it was that Gleeson could not come out and say about Yuri. He was sure Gleeson was involved in some way. Why else would he be getting himself worked up? Everything would become apparent in the fullness of time. Gabe pressed the end of the pen over and over. Click, click, click, click, click.
    'Never mind, darlin',' said Oona, patting his hand. 'We all feelin' it, you know.'
    'Shall we get on?' said Gabriel. 'There's a lot to get through.'
    'Yes, yes, yes. I know.' She wiggled her bottom to try and get comfortable, a difficult task in the circumstances, of being wedged between desk and door.
    'But, Yuri, love him. What he tinkin'? It ain't no hotel down there.'
    That was it. If something smelt bad you followed the trail and the trail led back to Gleeson. Gleeson was pulling every scam in the book and a few on top besides.
    'You arks me,' said Oona, 'they gonna sue the arse off this place.'
    'Who? Who is going to sue? Anyway, he wasn't supposed to be down there.' For a moment he had been sure that Gleeson was renting the space to Yuri, charging extra for the mattress perhaps, but now the idea seemed ludicrous. Those empty bottles of Rémy Martin. You don't buy premium brandy on a night porter's salary, not at full price anyway. It wasn't Gabe's business, though. There was going to be an inquest. Let them find out what they needed to know. Let Mr Maddox find out the rest.
    'M'mm,' said Oona, with some apparent satisfaction. 'Get their arses sued.'
    'That's as may be,' said Gabriel. 'What we've got to worry about is getting this staff rota up to date.'
    'Got Nikolai covering for Benny,' said Oona, 'he know his stuff all right.'
    Nikolai, one of the commis chefs, was on a lower grade than Benny but Oona was right, he was more than capable.
    'Rang the agency 'bout an hour ago,' Oona continued. 'Two porters on they way.'
    'Two? Who else is missing?'
    'The girl. What's the name? You know, washing the pots and all.' She rubbed her breast while she thought. 'Oh, she so skinny that girl she pass under doors, she so thin she hard to see. You want to sit her down with someting nice and hot and say, for Lord's sake, child, you eat now. Eat!'
    'She call in sick?' Gabe checked the time. This coffee morning had to come to an end.
    'Got it now – Lena,' said Oona, laughing. 'Hoo. She leaner than me, all right.'
    'She call in sick?' Gabe repeated. He vaguely recalled this skinny Lena.
    'No,' said Oona, 'but nobody saw her yesterday, so I hear, and she not in today for her shift. Probably she took a scare, with all the tings that happen, you know.'
    'Have you called her house, then?' Gabe asked.
    Oona looked at him and pursed her lips, clearly deciding if he was mad or simply joking. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she began to laugh her deep and throaty laugh. 'Go on,' she said, 'go on.'
    It seemed to Gabe that Oona did not laugh the same way other people did. Other people laughed politely or rudely, sarcastically or knowingly, helplessly, hopelessly, with sadness or with joy, depending on the situation at hand. But Oona had only one laugh, as if in reply to some never-ending cosmic joke. He said, 'She doesn't have a phone. Of course not.' It was pointless prising phone numbers from porters anyway. If you managed to get through, it would be to someone who spoke no English. Or to someone who, in broken English, vehemently denied that the person in question had ever entered the UK, let alone set foot in their house. 'Is she agency or permanent?'
    Oona thought for a moment. Gabriel looked over the kitchen floor and saw Victor emptying a plastic bag of frozen chips into a deep-fat fryer. Frozen chips were banned; all frozen vegetables were