The Case of the Missing Cutlery

Chapter 1

Aghast

Building 139 at John F. Kennedy International Airport was an imposing institutional-looking building that housed a large flight kitchen. Clad in a white lab coat, I was the young assistant manager of Marriott’s in-flight services, and I oversaw a facility that produced up to five thousand airline meals a day. Now, this wasn’t the peanut packet per person airline service of today. Most flights, even short hops, served a tray per passenger with some kind of hot meal, all with proper cutlery. (This was a bygone time when cleaning the plane meant emptying the ashtrays! I kid you not . . . there actually were smoking sections.)

Of course, with cooking and eating comes cleaning. My other responsibility was presiding over the dish ...