Jack took a bite of cake and chewed it thoughtfully. "One guy, in for armed robbery, offered Portman a used Porsche that he'd kept hidden from the cops. That guy swore Portman just blew him off, pretended he didn't even know what he was talking about." Jack pressed his lips together, then went on: " 'Nother guy, said he knew' Portman already had a Porsche, and that you had to offer him something bigger, or fancier, or funnier in that first .I meeting. Otherwise, he'd cross you off the list of people he'd allow to bribe him."

"Did you offer him anything?" I asked neutrally.

"I told him I didn't kill my wife, that the evidence was all circumstantial and conflicting, that I'd given up drinking. I had an excellent record of good behavior and no prior convictions." Jack paused. "I added that I'd give him free gourmet-cooked meals for life if he'd take my word for it." He smiled sourly. "Laugh? I mean, that guy split a gut. He said, 'What're you, a comedian?' Then he flipped through my record and said, 'G'won, get outta here. I never believe a crook, but I'm believing you. I read about you messing up? I'll visit the prison and kill ya myself.' "

Eileen expelled a nervous gust of air and shook her head. "Jack's doing great. He has a steady job at the bistro. Everybody loves him. Except Arthur, of course. Arthur wants the bistro to stock his wines, so he sucks up to me. Then he's spiteful behind Jack's back."

I frowned. "Is that why he was adamant that Jack not do the cooking show?"

Eileen sighed. "Arthur and Jack can't tolerate each other. Jack wanted to keep a low profile, and I knew you needed business. . . ."

The way she said it, I sounded like a taxi driver whose cab everyone shunned. I turned to Jack. "What's it like working with Arthur in the bistro?"

"We hardly ever see each other, and when we do, we see who can ignore the other most effectively. You notice I'm usually not even there for the Friday show. When he comes in for lunch or dinner, I'm either in the kitchen or I'm off."

I nodded and thought for a minute. "What about those other convicts you just mentioned? The Porsche guy was refused parole by Doug Portman, but what about the one who said you had to offer Doug a big or unusual bribe?"

Jack shrugged. "Portman turned him down for parole. But then the con got cancer, so he just got out. Mad as hell at Portman, of course. The guy doesn't just have revenge in his mind, he's got it in his heart."