“I don’t know how well Brenda was functioning. But Jill is a very bright woman. If she was behind the poisoning, she wanted to make sure Brenda would take the rap. In fact, it would have ended like this, with Brenda dead. But someone got spooked. Pulled back before the poisoning was correctly diagnosed.”
“The problem is,” started Sue, “all we have so far is the arsenic in Malcolm’s hair, the report of his illness, and a partially depleted container with a compound containing arsenic found in the greenhouse.” She gave Ray a mocking smile. “A substance you can probably find in most of the garages, sheds, and barns in this county. Do you want to take our evidence to the prosecutor or should I?”
“Maybe you will find some prints on the container. While we’re here, let’s give the rest of the place a quick look,” said Ray.
He reopened the drawer where he found the screwdriver and looked over the contents. Then he moved over to the next drawer. He surveyed the neatly arranged contents: spools of wire with bright coverings, green tape, florist scissors, pruners, craft knives, and three box cutters next to two containers of extra blades. His eyes swept over the contents a second time. In a back corner of the drawer, partially hidden under rolls of tape, was a rosewood handle with two brass rivets. He pushed the tape aside. The handle was attached to a triangular black leather sheath. With a gloved hand, Ray carefully removed the object and set it on the bench. Sue came to his side. He released the snap on the leather strap that secured the blade and carefully pulled a weapon from its scabbard.
“Nice piece of cutlery you’ve got there. Looks like the type of implement Dyskin was talking about. He called it a push dagger. Time for a little dusting,” said Sue.
Ray stood back and watched, knowing that Sue didn’t like chatter as she worked. Finally she looked up at him. “Some very nice prints. The blade looks clean. I wonder if the scabbard absorbed any blood or other residue?”
“We should get this to the State Police lab. Today. Have someone drive it to Grayling.”
“I should do that,” said Sue. “Maybe I can use the old girl network to get them to give this a quick look. If they find blood, maybe I can get the type and start the process to see if there is a DNA match with Malcolm.”
“Take the brandy bottle and the coffee container. Check the contents and get prints. And get her phone added to the search warrant.” Ray inhaled deeply. “So where are we? We have Tom Lea’s eyewitness account, backed by the scent of patchouli oil. Could Brenda have offed Wudbine alone?”
“What you are asking is could Brenda have switched off the power, gone backstage and killed Wudbine in what, less than a minute, and then passed Tom Lea?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think so. Highly improbable.”
“Agreed,” said Ray. “Someone has cleverly been stacking the evidence against Brenda. Who? And how did they get her to conveniently die? Get over to Grayling and see what you can find out. I’ll see if Hanna has anything that will help. I also want to make contact with Pepper.”
“Grubbs is always at the scene of the crime,” said Sue.
“Yes, I’m noodling around with that.”
45
Ray heard a vehicle braking to a stop in his drive, then one door slamming, followed 15 or 20 seconds later by the second door being slammed. Hanna came through his front door, releasing the latch, then shouldering her way into the room, her arms full of packages.
“No paddling clothes?” asked Ray.
“Tonight I am the consummate hunter and gatherer, the chef, too. We will have a leisurely dinner. It’s all fresh. It’s all local. No growth hormones, no MSG. And you’re going to love it.”
“But I thought we were heading for the big lake.”
“Ray, something rather amazing is going on. I’m not frantic. I don’t need to go out and paddle my butt off to feel okay. I’m feeling very relaxed. I want to have a good meal and a slow evening. It’s payback time. For better or worse, I’m the cook this evening, and you will love it.”
“So what’s the menu?”
“Fresh lake trout from Leland, salad and green beans from Meadowlark, local raspberries to put on a salad, a baguette that even you will find acceptable, and at the end a small glass of sherry with Stilton and biscuits. And, along the way, I’ll serve tall glasses of ice water, still my safest beverage.”
“How about Brenda Wudbine?” asked Ray.
Hanna embraced him warmly, pulling him close, waiting as he enfolded her in his arms, then kissed him passionately. Eventually she pushed away. “Careful,” she said playfully, “or you won’t get dinner.”
“That’s not all bad,” said Ray.
“True. But at 3 A.M. when you wake up blissfully satiated but starving, you will remember that you didn’t have dinner.”
“How about Brenda Wudbine?”
“You keep repeating yourself. Here are the rules of engagement for this evening. There will be no shoptalk until after we have had dessert. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Ray. “What can I help with?”
“Go read your New Yorker. In 20 minutes I’ll have dinner on the table.”
“Can I ask about Brenda Wudbine now?” said Ray as he sipped from the small glass of sherry Hanna had served him.
She handed him a folder. “There’s blood work and the prints you requested in there. Your medical examiner is a real character. I guess he’s had serious heart problems recently. He wanted to pick my brain.”
“And Brenda Wudbine?”
“Not wanting to violate any protocols before the body was sent to Grand Rapids for a forensic autopsy, I only did a few things, and those were with Dyskin’s permission. First, I interrogated the defibrillator pacemaker.”
“Voices from the dead.”
“You could say that. There was nothing remarkable. The device appeared to be operating normally. You can see where the heart stopped beating and the defibrillator fired. It cycled through a number of times. Then you can see the use of the second defibrillator. This would’ve been the EMTs. They obviously noted her Medalert bracelet. When the patient has this kind of pacemaker, the EMTs have to take care to position the paddles so the energy they deliver won’t destroy the pacemaker. It appears the EMTs did everything right. This was a woman with cardiomyopathy, with alcohol probably being a contributing factor.”
“Anything else?” asked Ray.
“Yes, two things. First, we did a blood alcohol. Brenda’s was .26. That’s a lot for early in the day. Probably had a residue from the night before, too.”
“And the second thing?”
“It looked like she had had a fall. The back of her head showed signs of significant trauma. How did you find her?”
“We didn’t. She was being loaded into an ambulance. But the person who found her said she was lying on her back in her greenhouse. And yes, there was a brandy bottle and a coffee mug that smelled of alcohol.”
“How about the floor?”
“Concrete.”
“She might have blacked out from the alcohol or had some sort of cardiac incident, hitting her head on the floor as she collapsed. That injury might or might not have been a contributing factor to her death. We’ll know that after the autopsy.”
Hanna pointed, “Ray, your phone.”
“Rules of engagement? Phone calls?”
“Take it.”
Hanna cleared away the dishes as Ray talked. After a short conversation, he rejoined her.
“What’s going on?”
“That was Pepper Markley. She served as a concierge to Malcolm Wudbine. You saw her onstage. She played the young wife of the Vicar.”
“Yes, I remember her, one very pretty woman. Vivacious.”
“That’s the one. She told me earlier today she had something to tell me. The circumstances prevented that from happening. I gave her my card.”