The Cook Read Online Free

time until Conrad told her to stop.
    “Is the family eating heartily?” he asked her on one of her trips.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Have they said anything?”
    “You mean, whether they like it?” Betsy asked, her eyes bright with comprehension. “No, sir. But I think they do, because they’re eating all of it . . .”
    “Like pigs,” Conrad muttered to himself.
    Betsy looked hungrily at the food Conrad had prepared for the housekeeper and the butler. “Should I take breakfast to the housekeeper’s room?” she asked timidly.
    “Do they usually eat breakfast before the family finishes?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    As Betsy left, she nearly bumped into an ox-like figure in bright-red livery who suddenly loomed in the doorway, completely filling it.
    “I’m Rudolph,” the figure announced, looking at Conrad.
    Conrad told him to get out of the way so Betsy could get past him.
    Rudolph obliged quickly, coming into the kitchen.
    He showed no surprise at the sight of Conrad. Indeed, there was no discernable expression on his face—just a face with features, exceptional only in their bluntness. Brown hair straggled down over a brutishly low forehead.
    “I’m hungry,” Rudolph declared.
    Conrad almost smiled.
    “Well, you’ve come to the right place. What would you like to eat, my good man?”
    Rudolph hesitated—as if he were not used to being asked.
    “Anything,” he said at last; “whatever there is.”
    Conrad told him to sit in the corner, and then got out a large bowl. He had cooked the scraps left from last night’s dinner into a kind of mush; he ladled this into the bowl and handed it to Rudolph. Rudolph, after sniffing it, began eating ravenously.
    He served the same to Eggy.
    When Betsy came back he also gave her a bowl of the mush, but just as she started to eat the buzzer sounded.
    She returned at once, saying that Mrs. Hill would like to know if there were any more muffins . . .
    After breakfast a tall, statuesque woman came into the kitchen. “I’m Mrs. Hill,” she smiled, concealing her surprise at Conrad’s appearance. “I just wanted to tell you that your muffins were delicious.”
    Conrad inclined his head and thanked her.
    And before Mrs. Hill left: “Could we possibly have some more muffins for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

6
    After paying a second visit to the three butchers, Conrad decided to buy his meat from Albert’s Butcher Shop, where he had thrown the leg of mutton on the floor.
    The butcher remembered him, and seeing Eggy trailing in his wake: “You are the Hills’ new cook? I’m glad to see you again.”
    Albert was a porcine-faced man with greedy eyes. His eyes were the principal reason Conrad had decided to patronize him.
    Conrad examined all the meat in the case and then demanded to be taken to the storage room. Albert said there was nothing back there that wasn’t in the case, but as Conrad turned to leave the shop he quickly relented.
    Conrad at last found something that would do, but Albert said it was impossible—it would mean ruining several other cuts from the large piece of meat. Conrad said it was either that or nothing.
    After Albert had cut it—with assistance from Conrad, who had taken the knife from his hand and outlined precisely the piece he wanted—he named the price of the meat. Conrad told him he wouldn’t pay it . . .
    “But after I’ve cut it—” the man whined.
    Conrad told him to eat it himself, and ordered Eggy to follow him.
    Albert followed him to the door, sniveling and protesting—and not till Conrad was already outside the shop did he ask Conrad how much he would pay. When Conrad told him Albert raised his eyes to heaven and began protesting with even greater vehemence. But Conrad replied that he would still be making a robber’s profit . . .
    While Albert wrapped the meat for him, Conrad decided on his own dinner and said he wanted two chicken breasts. Albert declared he did not sell chicken parts. Conrad retorted that he would then buy all