Healthy Place to Die Read Online Free Page A

pertains to food and restaurants. What more natural way to prepare for that kind of career?”
    “It’s still unusual,” I commented. “The culinary business doesn’t have many legal specialists—in fact, I can’t think of any. Perhaps it needs a few. There must be lots of opportunities.”
    “But we are a very law-abiding vocation,” Leblanc protested. “Do we need lawyers?”
    “Not until you’re in trouble,” Elaine Dunbar said calmly. “Then you come screaming to us.”
    Leblanc looked ready to respond vigorously, his male Gallic blood aroused, but Probst defused him, saying lazily, “Have a lot of occasions to need lawyers in the computer business. Glad to have them on my side—it was always the ones on the other side I hated.”
    Caroline took the newcomer off to meet another group. I hoped none of them knew any lawyer jokes or that they would exercise restraint if they did. Elaine Dunbar looked as if she could be a tough customer in a debate.
    There was not much more opportunity to talk to any of the other participants. All were anxious to get out into the extensive grounds and enjoy the glorious Alpine sunshine. The sun must have been hot down at lower altitudes, but we were about three thousand feet up the western slopes of the Schondig, whose peak tapered into the azure sky as if reaching to claw down an unwary cloud. Periodic breezes rolled up from the valley to keep the temperature at a perfect level.
    I strolled across the grass and stood on the shore of the lake. On the far side, small craft were lined up awaiting customers. Kayaks, canoes, rowboats, and small sailcraft were there but nothing powered. Nobody was out today and a flock of birds was dining noisily, undisturbed. Down toward the valley, I caught sight of movement. Two horses were coming up the slope, and I recalled that stables were another attraction of the spa. It did not seem to lack any of the entertaining amenities, I thought. I was anxious too to see the mud baths, saunas, steam baths, and similar aids to health, but they would have to wait.
    This was a good chance to take a look at the kitchens. Stainless steel was everywhere, gleaming, glistening, reflecting from bench tops, splash shields, burner racks. The wooden chopping blocks were spotless and looked alien against the groups of bright orange, indigo blue, and charcoal black ceramic stoves and hoods. These were trimmed with copper, and among them I noted the very newest features such as magnetic induction burners that cook without producing heat and infrared covers that maintain heat without drying. A most unusual sight in a professional kitchen was the large windows, framing a fairy-tale picture of snowcapped peaks in the distance.
    As it was late in the afternoon, the kitchen was quiet. The hustle and bustle would soon be starting as preparations got under way for the evening meal, but right now only two young women were active. One of them was Mallory Vance, the pretty, shy wife of Leighton. She was preparing a terrine of duck, laying the sliced duck breast into strips of prosciutto and sprinkling it liberally with wild rice, dried apricots, pistachio nuts, dried cherries, and a blend of spices. Before folding the prosciutto over it, she drizzled a generous amount of brandy on the mixture.
    “Beautifully done,” I complimented her, and she looked up, startled. Then she recognized me and smiled delightfully.
    “ Garde-manger usually comes off a mechanized production line today,” I said. “It’s nice to see it made properly, that is to say, by hand.”
    “Not many people call it that anymore,” she said, reaching for more slices of duck breast. “You know what it means? ‘The preservation of what is eaten.’”
    “Yes. I believe that in former days, it referred to ways of using up scraps of meat, poultry, game, and fish that had been left over in the kitchen. Then the term was applied to the piece of kitchenware that was designed to store those scraps—a