Page 12 of So Bleak

“He didn’t see Daisuke coming to help him?”

“I don’t believe so, no.”

She nodded, and he continued. “One of our other diners, a Mr. Thiessen, reached Mr. Grimes before Chef Daisuke and attempted to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him. Mr. Grimes’s distress appeared to increase just before he collapsed to the floor unconscious.”

“When did you call emergency services?”

“I dialed as soon as I arrived in the lobby and saw what was happening. Unfortunately, Mr. Grimes was already deceased by the time help arrived.”

“Do you happen to have the items from his table service?”

“I immediately had the items sequestered and provided them to the police upon request.”

That wasn’t ideal. That would mean extra fingerprints from the staff that could be from the murderer or could be from following their head chef’s orders. Then again, considering the kind of zoo that occurred at crime scenes like this, they might have lost more evidence by not separating the order.

“Thank you, Chef Ito. I apologize for having to ask my next question, but have there been any complaints of illness or allergy here before?”

“None. We have signs posted at the entrance to the restaurant and on each table that remind guests that our food is made with soy, seafood and sesame and that allergies to those can be quite serious. Fortunately, no one has had any reactions prior to last night.”

Faith made a mental note to confirm that Grimes wasn’t allergic to soy. She highly doubted it since he was a food critic and had chosen to eat it, but if she was going to be a stickler for Howard doing his due diligence, then she needed to do hers.

“And no complaints of illness?”

Ito frowned slightly but maintained his professionalism. “No. We take painstaking care to ensure that every product we serve is of the highest quality. And we don’t serve fugu here either.”

She lifted her eyebrow. “Fugu?”

“Puffer fish. It is one of the most prized delicacies in Japan, but it is quite poisonous if prepared incorrectly. I am licensed to prepare it, as is Chef Daisuke, but the fugu I can purchase here is of lower quality than I am comfortable serving.”

“If you don’t serve it, then why bring it up?”

“I assumed you would ask. A man was poisoned in my restaurant.” Emotion flickered across his face at that statement. “I felt it was only natural you would suspect me or a member of my staff. Fugu is not common in the United States, but it’s not unknown, and there have been rumors that it has been used as a tool to kill diners in the past in Japan. The police have inspected my restaurant and perused my order sheets and confirmed that Fugu has never been inside this restaurant.”

“Could it have been brought in by a third party?”

He stiffened. “It would be exceptionally rude to bring a separate meal to a restaurant. Had anyone committed such rudeness, they would have been noticed immediately and asked to leave.”

“Of course. I just had to ask.”

Ito relaxed a little. “I understand. Please forgive me. This is the most horrible thing to happen to me in twenty-nine years as a chef.”

“No need to apologize. I’d be upset if I were you too. Tell me, was Grimes a regular visitor of your restaurant?”

“No. As far as I know, this was his first time eating here.”

She nodded. That made sense. Food critics rarely had “regular” restaurants. “Did anyone recognize him before he was identified by the police?”

“Fukimo believed he was a food critic when he placed his order based on the selection he chose and the size of the order. None of us knew who he was before he was identified, however.”

“Have you heard of him?”

Ito shook his head. “Sushi restaurants are rarely featured among mainstream food critics in the United States. In fact, our industry exists somewhat separately from the rest of the fine dining world. I don’t pay much attention to noteworthy individuals of any profession in the wider fine-dining world.”

She nodded again. “I see. Thank you for your time, Chef Ito. I’ll get your contact information from Detective Howard if I need to ask you any more questions. In the meantime, if you think of anything else that might be useful, please call me.”

She handed him a business card, which he took carefully with both hands, bowing low. She flushed a little, wondering if she should have offered it the same way.

“Thank you, Special Agent.”

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