As Danny and Don were arriving at the other shipping center, they noticed that the building was painted purple. "I guess they want to stand out," Don said.

"I guess," Danny replied as they got out of the truck. "You know, this case reminds me of that commercial where these people were saying 'there's something in the gravy'."

Don laughed. "I remember that," he said. "It could have been a mushroom."

"Lumpy gravy. I don't really care if my gravy has a few lumps in it."

"Yeah, it will all give you high cholesterol whether it has lumps or not."

Danny snickered. "I don't know about that. My grandmother never had high cholesterol or anything like that."

"Must be in the genes."

"I guess."

They went into the office area and found that no one was there. "Looks like they don't have many visitors," Don said.

"I agree," Danny said. "I guess we'll have to go and find them."

They went through the door into the warehouse area. They could hear motors running and could hear people shouting over the noise. "Hey! You can't be in here!" someone yelled.

Don and Danny looked around to see a woman coming toward them who looked like she could throw them out with no problems. Don even had to look up at her. "What are you doing in here?" she asked.

Don and Danny showed her their badges. "I'm Danny Messer, this is Don Flack. We're investigating a murder."

"A murder? What does that have to do with you being here?" The woman asked.

"Are you in charge here?" Don asked. He looked at the woman's badge. "Charlotte?"

"Yes I am. You need to come to the office."

Don and Danny followed the woman to the office where it was much quieter. "Now, what's this about a murder?" Charlotte asked.

Don showed her a picture of the victim. "You ever seen that guy?" he asked.

"No. Who is he?"

"Pierre Manicotti," Don said.

"He was the owner of a restaurant," Danny put in. "Do you deal in Black Truffles from France?"

The woman grabbed a clipboard from the desk. "We don't have any of those right now," she said. "They're out of season." She looked at them. "Why?"

"Because this guy had some at his restaurant."

The woman chuckled at that. "Well, they couldn't have been fresh…or maybe they just got here in the last batch but those are over now. If he got them, he must have paid plenty for them."

"That's what we were thinking," Don said. "You know of anyone who sells these things from storage?"

"If they do, they couldn't keep them for long. They don't last long in storage. No one is going to pay top price for them if they've been kept in storage."

"So I guess someone would be pretty angry if they found out they had been jipped, right?"

"If they were paying the top price for these and they were in storage, I would guess they would."

"Thanks."

Don and Danny turned around and went out the door. "That wouldn't explain why they would kill that chef," Danny declared.

"Maybe he threatened to expose them," Don said.

"At three in the morning? How did he wind up there at three in the morning?"

"That's a good question. There must have been something weird going on."

"I'll agree with that. Nobody should be at a restaurant at three in the morning."

"He was killed before that. Maybe there's something we're not seeing."

"Something that maybe Sid could tell us?"

"Maybe."

Mac and Jo were going into the distributor warehouse. "I hope we find out something more here than we found at that other place," Jo said.

"We might find our killer," Mac replied.

They went into the office which was painted blue and had a waiting room. Mac and Jo walked over to the desk. "Hi," the woman at the desk said. "May I help you?"

Mac and Jo showed her their badges. "We need to talk to someone about mushrooms," Mac said, feeling odd saying that.

"We understand that you distribute Black Truffles," Jo said.

The woman typed in her computer. "Yes, we do, but they are not in season right now," she said.

"So you don't have any right now?" Mac asked.

"We do have the last shipment in storage but they're about to be picked up by the restaurant owners."

"Can we get a list of the restaurants who pick up here?" Jo asked.

"Do you have a warrant? What is this about?"

"We're investigating a murder. Do you know a man named Pierre Manicotti?"

"Yes, I have met him. He is one of our buyers. Are you saying he's dead?"

"Yes," Mac said. "And his last meal was some of those mushrooms."

The woman stared at them a moment. "We only give them their orders as they come in. They're paid for before they're shipped."

"Are your mushrooms always authentic?" Mac asked. "How long do you keep them in storage?"

"You can't keep them in storage for very long."

"But if you did, what would they be like?"

"The flavor fades and they are just not good and don't have the right texture."

"So, they're not worth as much."

"No."

"But what if someone was trying to sell them for the same price and claim that they were fresh when they weren't?"

The woman stared at them a moment. "Are you accusing us of selling something illegally?" she asked.

"Are you?" Mac asked.

"If that is going on, I don't know anything about it."

"We need to talk to someone who would know about it," Jo said.

The woman got the phone and called someone. Mac and Jo stepped away from the desk. "You think they were selling less than fresh mushrooms here?" Jo asked.

"I don't know," Mac said. "Is that really enough to kill someone over?"

"A thousand dollars a pound? You're kidding."

"Maybe."

Just then, Mac's phone rang. "Taylor," he answered.

"Mac," Lindsey said. "I just finished the analysis on some of the mushrooms that came from the victim's stomach and some from the floor. They were not all Black Truffles. Some of them were Terfezia bouderi, other known as desert truffles or terfez. These are not the same thing as black truffles. They have no flavor of their own. They only take on whatever flavors they're mixed with and they are not worth near as much as the real black truffles. Desert truffles are only worth about twenty to fifty dollars a kilogram. Looks like someone is mixing them with the more expensive ones."

Mac scowled. "So, someone's been selling fake truffles."

"Not 'fake', but not the right ones."

"Thanks, Lindsey."

Mac put his phone away and looked at Jo. "Someone's selling less than true truffles," he said. He explained to Jo what Lindsey said. "I think I would get pretty mad if I found out someone was jipping me like that."

"I think I would too," Jo replied. "That's a big difference."

"But that wouldn't explain why he was there at that time."

Jo considered that. "Maybe there was something there that slowed down his rigor or something."

"Maybe but maybe he was just there for something else. Maybe he was working late on inventory or something."

"But why would they show up?"

Mac shook his head. "Those are some questions that need answers. But maybe they showed up to try and convince him that they were not selling the wrong ones and when he tasted them, he knew."

"Maybe they came there to kill him," Jo said. "If they couldn't change his mind."

"Maybe."

The secretary stood up. "Mr. Williams will see you now," she said.

Mac and Jo followed her out into another area where she gave them hardhats and put one on herself. Then she led them to the other side of the distribution center where it was very cold. There was a man there who was all of six feet tall, and probably more. He was wearing a blue hardhat but he had a beard that let everyone know that he had red hair and he had piercing blue eyes. "Hi," he said and shook hands with Mac and Jo. "What can I do for you, Detectives?"

Mac showed him his badge anyway. "I'm Detective Mac Taylor," he said.

"And I'm Detective Danville," Jo added. "We would like a sample of the black truffles that you're distributing from this warehouse."

"Why?" Williams asked.

"Because we have reason to believe that they are not all authentic and we think that fact might be linked to a murder," Mac said.

"Murder?"

Mac showed him a picture of the victim. "You ever seen that guy?"

"Pierre Manicotti. Yes, I've seen him." Williams stared at Mac a moment. "Don't come around here accusing me of murder. All I do is give these people what they order."

"So who does have anything to do with what kind of mushrooms these are?" Mac asked.

"You would have to ask the ones who packaged them."

"How do I know you're not mixing something else in them to make more money?"

Williams turned around. "Come this way," he said.

Mac and Jo followed him into the refrigerated area. He pointed to some packages. "Those are the packages those mushrooms come in," he said. "There is no way we can open that and no one know it. It's impossible to reclose that package."

"So you've tried it?" Mac asked.

Williams frowned. "No, I haven't. I'm just telling you that if someone opened that package, it would be evident."

"Have you had any missing?" Jo asked.

Williams scowled. "Now that you mention it, we did have two packages go missing before," he said. "We reported it but how can you track down something like that?"

"You think they were being distributed for a cheaper price?"

"Could have been?"

"How long has it been since Manicotti came here to pick up anything?" Mac asked.

"You would have to ask the secretary about that," Williams replied. "I don't have those records out here."

"You got any ideas about who might have stolen those mushrooms?" Jo asked.

"Things go missing all the time. There's no way to keep up with anything like that with all the stuff that goes through here."

Mac thought they were not going to get any further here. "If he wanted to get them at a cheaper price, who would he go to?" he asked. "Do you have any ideas about that?"

"If you're talking about things sold on the black market, I don't know," Williams said. "If he's buying things like that, he can't expect them to be authentic."

"Thank you for your time," Mac said.

Mac and Jo turned to leave. "There's a piece missing somewhere," Mac said.

"Yes, but if he was buying those mushrooms off the black market, we could spend the rest of our lives trying to find out who he bought them from," Jo said.

"Someone knows someone who knows something."

Jo looked at Mac. "Are you trying to sound clever now?"

"Maybe."

They went back to the office and asked the secretary how long it had been since Manicotti had picked up an order. "About a month," the secretary answered after she typed in her computer. "He had not ordered any this time because the ones we have now are for others. He usually picks up once a month."

"Thanks," Mac said.

Mac and Jo went out to the Avalanche. "Well, it would be unusual for him not to pick up at his usual time," Jo said. "That could mean that he was getting them somewhere else. Maybe that's why he was there at three in the morning…he was buying illegally obtained mushrooms."

Mac shook his head and chuckled. "That just sounds ridiculous," he said. "I mean, why would you go to all that trouble?"

"He runs a fancy restaurant, Mac. He gets paid high prices for those meals with those mushrooms in them."

Mac nodded. "I suppose. If that's the case, we could say that one of the customers figured it out."

"They would just sue I think. This has to be whoever he got them from."

Mac nodded. "I agree…but to find out who."

"It's going to be a long day and night."