Chapter Two: The Reason for the Coat
Lily remained standing because sitting seemed like agreeing that she was part of somebody else’s meeting.
Thomas noticed her hesitation.
“Please sit if you want to,” he said.
“If you prefer to leave, I won’t stop you.”
“I want an explanation,” Lily replied.
She sat opposite Walter while Thomas pulled another chair from a nearby table.
Simone stood behind him with her arms folded.
Grant hovered beside the host stand, uncertain whether he was still in charge.
Walter touched the wet sleeve of his coat.
“I was out on the northern trail at six this morning.”
“A hiking trail?” Lily asked.
“A woodland survey site near the Merrimack.”
He opened his coat enough to show the edge of a canvas field vest marked with faded stains.
“I inspect wild mushrooms for restaurants and food markets when they have a reason to question what they’ve bought.”
Lily looked toward Simone.
“We don’t serve wild mushrooms, do we?”
Simone’s expression changed.
“We’re serving them tomorrow night.”
Thomas rubbed the back of his neck.
“The Harvest Table dinner is tomorrow.”
“I know what night it is,” Walter said.
“I received a sample from your supplier yesterday.”
He pulled a small sealed sample box from an interior pocket, but he did not open it near the food.
“It wasn’t what the label said it was.”
Grant stepped forward.
“This has nothing to do with the server.”
Walter turned toward him.
“Neither did your decision to fire her.”
The sentence quieted him.
Walter explained that a distributor called North Quay Provisions had promised a rare wild mushroom assortment for an invitation-only dinner.
Thomas had advertised the meal for weeks, and more than ninety guests had paid deposits.
The dinner included a visiting chef, specialty wines, and a menu printed on thick paper with drawings of woodland plants.
Walter had been hired to review the shipment because Simone had questioned its unusually uniform appearance.
He had arrived without an appointment because the replacement lot was reportedly due that evening.
His bicycle had suffered a puncture near the waterfront, and he had reached the steakhouse after walking through the rain.
He had left his wallet in a locked field case at the survey office, believing he would be met at the kitchen door.
“I tried that door,” Walter said.
“A man there told me guests were not allowed through the staff entrance.”
“Who?” Simone asked.
“He was wearing a black kitchen coat with a red pen in his pocket.”
Simone exhaled sharply.
“Felix.”
Grant lifted his chin.
“Felix follows the access list.”
“There shouldn’t be a problem with Walter’s access,” Thomas replied.
“We invited him.”
“I had no information about that,” Grant said.
Simone looked at Thomas.
“I sent Grant Walter’s name yesterday.”
Thomas reached for his phone but Walter shook his head.
“That disagreement can wait.”
“What can’t wait?” Lily asked.
“The shipment,” Walter replied.
“A mislabeled mushroom can be an expensive disappointment, or it can be a medical emergency.”
He made no claim about the exact species in the boxes they had yet to inspect.
Instead, he described the limits of determining wild mushrooms from dried fragments and photographs.
“The first lot is uncertain enough that nobody should serve it.”
“I told North Quay to hold the second lot,” Simone said.
Thomas looked at her.
“I was told the supplier had corrected the labels.”
“I asked for documented identification, not fresh labels,” Simone replied.
Grant cleared his throat.
“The supplier’s driver has already left.”
“Left where?” Thomas asked.
“The harbor depot.”
“And where is the truck now?”
Grant looked at his tablet.
“That’s an operations matter.”
Simone stepped toward him.
“The driver has a loading window at seven.”
Lily glanced at the clock.
It was six forty-three.
A line cook crossed the far doorway carrying a crate with a bright orange North Quay sticker.
Walter noticed it at the same moment.
“That’s not tomorrow’s delivery,” he said.
“It’s already here.”
