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“I think it is also very interesting that Christine never told us about Hunter,” Annie added.

“We don’t know for sure that she called him,” I said. “Her mother said Christine was going to call him, but maybe she thought better of it and never did. We need to talk with her again, but I don’t think we’ll have time today. By time we talk with Mandy Aiello, we should probably head back home and get ready for dinner.”

“There is something else that bothers me,” Annie began. “Mr. Spiegel seemed almost certain that Christine was his daughter. Jennifer Shalt did not mention anything about Mr. Spiegel taking her to North Carolina.”

“No, she didn’t. What are you getting at?” I asked.

“Mr. Jamison said that he told Mr. Spiegel to get out and that he did. He went away and never came back. I do not think Mr. Spiegel would go away so quickly if he was certain Christine was his daughter, which he seemed to think was true. If he felt his child was at stake he would be very…what is the word for one who does not give up?”

“Persistent. Pushy. Ruthless.”

“
Oui
! He would be all of that.”

“Which means he probably did come back, and then what?” I asked.

Annie nodded. “Exactly. We need to find out when he came back and what happened?”

I found the candy store, Le Petit Bonbon, not too far from a small Belgian restaurant that had opened in New Haven a few years ago. John and I had tried it on several occasions and it was quite good, though not as good as the food we had when we were in Brussels. I parked the car on the street and Annie and I walked the block to the store.

A tiny bell tinkled as I pushed the door open. Two women worked behind a display case full of chocolate delights and brightly colored macarons. Both women were currently helping customers, so I took a look at what was on offer, searching for anything with coconut. I also was a big fan of dark chocolate and marzipan, and they seemed to have a few varieties from which to choose. But the macarons were gorgeous. The colors were so vivid, I had to wonder what kind of food coloring they used. I especially liked the bright orange and the turquoise ones.

“Alex, look at this.”

I walked over to a small display case where Annie was currently engrossed.

“Aren’t these beautiful?”

Annie had found delicately carved and decorated marzipan candies in the shapes of flowers and bunnies and eggs.

“They look like those we saw at that wonderful Belgian shop on the Grand Sablon,” I said, thinking back to my trip to Europe a year ago.

“Wittamer. That is the shop you went into. It is one of their specialties, especially for Christmas. They carve exquisite little candies from marzipan. It is an art.”

“Do you see something you like?” a voice said behind us.

I turned to look at one of the women who had been behind the counter. She had on a white chef’s coat. She was short, had light hair and sparkling blue eyes, and a scattering of freckles across her nose. She was slightly overweight, and I figured that must be a hazard of working in a candy store. She also had on a name badge and it said
Mandy
. From her outward appearance, I couldn’t imagine her being the daughter of the Spiegels, but as I well knew, children didn’t always look like their parents.

“Did you make these?” Annie asked, pointing to the marzipan shapes.

“Yes, everything you see in here I make myself.”

“You’re Mandy Aiello, the owner?”

“Yes, that’s me. How may I help you?”

“We’re here to ask you a few questions about a Mr. Spiegel. Sheldon Spiegel. Did he by any chance contact you?”

Mandy looked around the shop. The two customers had left and there was no one there but us. She gestured to a small café table by the window and the three of us sat down.

“Yes. He came to see me on Monday morning. I was just opening up the shop when he came in. How did you know that?”

I explained to her why we were there and she nodded.

“Yes, I saw on the news the other night that he was killed. I’m sorry that you had to identify his body. That must have been horrible.” She looked down at her hands and clasped them tightly together. “I’m very sorry that he died and I never got to know him better.”

“You wanted to see him again? Why is that?” I asked. So far everyone we spoke to couldn’t wait to get rid of the man.

“I was hoping he would come back. I wanted to talk with him again when I wasn’t so busy, but I never got the chance, and then I saw he was killed. You see, I’m pretty sure he’s my father.”

Mandy Aiello excused herself for a few minutes and came back with a tray with three cups, a pot of tea, and a plate of colorful macarons. If I kept drinking tea and eating treats I wasn’t going to want any dinner. Maybe I should have just not accepted her kind offer, but, hey, they were macarons and they were beautiful.”

“I hope you like tea. We’re all out of coffee and the shop closes early on Saturdays so I don’t want to make another pot.”

“Tea is perfect,” I said. “So tell us why you think Mr. Spiegel was your father. Did he actually tell you that?”

“Well, no. He told me his story and all about his daughter, and how he was certain a switch was made at the hospital. I felt so sorry for him. That’s it, really, and then he left because he had some other visits to make, but I just knew it was true. I knew I was his daughter.”

“And why is that, Ms. Aiello? Physically, there does not seem to be a connection,” Annie said. I liked the way she got right to the point.

I reached for a bright orange macaron and took a tiny bite. It had a citrusy filling that was just the right amount of tart and sweet. It was superb.

“I
felt
it. You see, I never had any sort of connection to my family. My father died a long time ago and my mother, well…” Mandy turned and gazed out the window and watched a motorcycle rev by. “Have you heard of my mother? Martha Aiello? She’s running for mayor and eventually hopes to become governor. And then president. And then queen if they’ll let her.” Mandy gave a snort. “Maybe she can move to London and take over there.”

“This is not a good thing?” Annie asked. “America is all about opportunity and grabbing the golden hoop.”

Mandy looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“Brass ring,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, yes, the brass ring,” Annie said. “This is not good to grab the brass ring?”

“My mother is very ambitious and I’ve always been the family embarrassment. I got into some trouble as a teenager. I was bullied because of my weight, I didn’t fit in with my fashion model sister and mother, and I never liked any of the things that they found important.”

“You seem to have done very well for yourself,” I said, as I looked around the lovely shop with its artfully displayed offerings, the café tables, and a retro Parisian decor.

Mandy Aiello’s full face brightened. “I have, and with absolutely no help at all from my mother, which is a good thing because you do not want to be in my mother’s debt. She’s like one of those companies that loan you money and then the interest keeps getting higher to the point that you can never pay the debt off. My grandmother, well, she’s never gotten along with my mother either. She saw something in me and said if I did well in junior college she would send me to Europe. So I took her up on it and it was there, in Europe, that I found a love for cooking. My grandmother paid for me to study with some master bakers in Belgium and then France, and then helped me start this place. I opened it up last fall, and by Christmas I had tons of orders for holiday parties and now for spring we’re already booked up for weddings.”

“Do you make wedding cakes?” I asked. I would love to see one if she did.

“Oh, no. But people like giving gift bags to their guests. We do chocolates or any of our specialty cookies, and one bride wants a macaron cake. Things are going exceeding well. If the candy and specialty cookies continue to attract customers, which they seem to be, I’m hoping to add cakes and pastries and maybe even sandwiches, though I’ll need more space. And help,” Mandy sighed. “But my mother never lets me forget my druggie past. I know I got mixed up with the wrong crowd, but look at me now. I was just a kid then. I have my own business, for Christ sakes.”

“So how does this all relate to Mr. Spiegel?” I asked.

“When he said there may have been a mix up at the hospital, I thought, that’s it! That’s why I never fit in with my family, because I wasn’t one of them.”

I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but not all family members got along. “Ms. Aiello, Mandy, that doesn’t necessarily mean you were Mr. Spiegel’s daughter. My father and his brother are worlds apart.”

“Okay, but still. I was willing to take a test, you know, a blood test or something to verify it. And now that Mr. Spiegel is dead, I still want to. I want to know. I need to know. It would be so freeing to finally have proof that I’m not related to
that
woman.”

“Is it really that bad?” I had seen Martha Aiello on TV and she wasn’t anyone I would vote for. I didn’t trust her for some reason, and while I applauded ambition, she seemed more aggressive and bullying than anything else. Maybe she had even bullied her daughter because of the weight issue.

“You want to know how bad it is? My mother is having a huge reception. Huge!” Mandy spread her arms wide. “Hundreds of people will be attending. Maybe thousands. The crème de la crème. The exposure for Le Petit Bonbon would be immense. Has my mother asked me to do the catering? No. No, she has not. Her own daughter. The one with her own shop who knows how to cook better than anyone else she knows. She went to some chain restaurant, for Christ sakes. Who does that? Who?”

I shrugged. I had no answer for that. “Do you have any idea if Mr. Spiegel spoke with your mother?”

“No, not that I know of—”

“What is it?” I asked. “Do you remember something?”

“Mr. Spiegel came here on Monday morning. Well, Monday night my mother called. She left a message on my phone.”

“And?” Annie said, sounding excited.

“And all she said was, ‘what the hell have you done now,’ and then she hung up. I had no idea what she was talking about, and I’m too busy to have yet another fight with her, so I never called her back. But it must be about Mr. Spiegel. It has to be.”

I put my tea cup down and leaned forward. “Mandy, if Mr. Spiegel contacted your mother and told her he thought that you might be his daughter, and that there was a mix up at the hospital all those years ago, what would her reaction be?”

Mandy clutched her cup firmly and I watched her face go pale.

“Knowing my mother the way I do, worried about a scandal, afraid of something upsetting her campaign, ruining her chance to become the first queen of America, well, there’s only one thing she would do. She’d kill him.”

“
Mon Dieu
. She did not mean that, literally, did she?” Annie asked later.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve seen the mother on TV and she’s scary. Politicians. Geesh. I don’t know what they’re like in Belgium, but I wouldn’t put anything past them, even murder. But I have a feeling Mandy was being a bit dramatic.” But still I had to wonder. The man was killed by someone, why not an irate woman with high political aspirations.

We drove along in companionable silence for several miles. The air had cooled and the sun was making its way toward the horizon. I had dragged Annie all over, without doing one thing touristy.

“I’m so sorry, Annie, for not doing anything fun with you today.”

“Do not be sorry. This was the best day,” Annie said. “I cannot believe we talked with so many suspects. I cannot believe they were happy to see us. Is this always the case and does it mean they are not guilty?”

I gave a small laugh. “No way. The first thing you need to remember is don’t get sucked in.”

“Sucked in? Like the machine to clean the floor?”

“Exactly. Don’t let anyone fool you. If they’re innocent, well, fine. We’ll figure that out later. But if they’re guilty, they’ll still be nice, talk to us, and gently try to lead us in another direction. Our job is to gather all the facts and sort through everything. And today was easy. Not everyone will want to speak with us. I’m good at getting people to open up, but still. Plus, it’s the weekend, so we caught a lot of people at home. That made it easy. I have a feeling Mandy’s mother won’t be so forthcoming, and that’s if we even get a chance to speak with her.”

I stopped at a light and turned to Annie. Her eyes glistened with excitement.

“Oh, we must speak with her. If she is as bad as her daughter says, she could be our killer.”

“We’ll certainly try. We’ll do that on Monday when she’ll most likely be at her campaign headquarters in New Haven. I’d also like to speak with Jennifer Shalt’s parents, and I’m going to drive by on our way home.”

“It is very interesting, no, that both Jennifer and Mandy said they feel a bit different than the rest of their family and think it is very possible they could be the Spiegels’ daughter.”

I thought about this for a few miles. There was a time in my teens when I thought my parents were horrible and that they couldn’t possibly be related to me, but then there was Meme, my wonderful grandmother, and our connection was there from the start. Plus, the older I got, the more I looked like my mom, albeit without her great head of thick hair.

“That probably has more to do with just growing up and finding your own voice and then realizing it isn’t necessarily that of your parents. And with Mandy, I would imagine it has a lot to do with wishful thinking, just hoping that she really is not related to that horrible woman.”

“
Oui
, I understand this. We had some trying times with our daughter, but now we three are very close. And she’s always been Gerard’s pride and joy. Speaking of my husband, I wonder what the men have been up to today. We have not seen them at any of the places we went.”

“Just be happy we didn’t run into them. I’d like to keep our participation in this investigation secret for as long as we can. It’ll make life easier, trust me. John will tell me to keep my nose out of it and let the police handle everything. And of course he already knows that I don’t pay any attention to him.”