Ursitti's eyes grew wide. "Excuse me?"
"They might have told the truth, but you were in the room, and they didn't want to admit that they were complicit."
"Detective Taylor, what the hell are you talkin' about?" Ursitti put his hands on his hips. His eyes were blazing.
Mac let out a breath. "Malik Washburne was a devout Muslim. He converted in part because Islam proscribes taking mind-altering substances such as alcohol-and prescription drugs."
"Yeah, well, my wife's Jewish-goes to temple every Saturday-but she also likes her bacon in the morning. So what?"
Shaking his head, Mac said, "Washburne took that restriction seriously. Remember, he was an alcoholic who was in jail because he fell off the wagon. Someone like Washburne would've been adamant about not taking any mind-altering substances."
Ursitti frowned. "So what're you saying?"
"Call Officer Andros in again."
"What, you're not gonna tell me?"
"Give me a few more minutes, Lieutenant, and it'll all make sense," Mac assured him.
Ursitti glared at Mac but got on the radio and summoned Andros.
While they waited, Flack came into the room, hands in his pockets. "Mac, I got Mulroney all good to go. You done here?"
"Not yet. You go ahead, Don, I need to finish this up."
"What, without me? C'mon, Mac. Washburne's name goes on my record. If you have something cooking-"
Mac shrugged. "Mulroney's not going anywhere. Join me." While they waited for Andros, Mac filled Flack in on what he knew so far.
Flack smiled. "I see where you're going with this. That's why you asked Peyton to do that blood test, right?"
Ursitti growled. "Will you two stop playing this Agatha Christie shit and tell me what the hell you're talkin' about?"
"All in good time, Lieutenant," Mac said with a cryptic smile.
Just then Andros came in. "I thought you guys were arresting Mulroney."
"This is about Malik Washburne," Mac said.
"Okay, whatever." He took a seat. "I thought Melendez cleaned his clock for him."
"No," Mac said, with Flack standing over him, "he died of anaphylactic shock."
"What's that?"
"An extreme allergic reaction," Flack said.
"Oh, okay-like my uncle with eggs. Swear to God, you give him anything with eggs, he stops breathing." Andros shuddered. "Scariest damn thing you ever saw. Once a restaurant insisted there wasn't any egg in the pasta they served-we eat there free in perpetuity now, in exchange for Uncle Walter not suing them. So that's how the asshole died, huh?"
"Yes," Mac said, "and we think that you were there when he ingested the fatal substance."
"Say what?"
Ursitti said, "Detective, if you're accusing my man here of-"
"Officer Andros didn't do anything wrong," Mac said quickly, holding up a reassuring hand. "He simply did his duty yesterday morning."
"What happened yesterday morning?" Andros asked, now looking quite bewildered.
"You watched as the nurse gave Malik Washburne his prescribed dosage of Klonopin. After which point he tried what you called yesterday 'the usual crap' with his medication."
Andros snorted. "Yeah, that's right. Tried to palm it. Real bush-league stuff."
"And that's what killed him."
"That's crazy!" Ursitti said. "You heard my COs, he'd been taking the drugs for weeks. How could he suddenly be allergic?"
"Because your COs were lying like cheap rugs," Flack said. "When they were describing how Washburne took his meds, they were also talkin' about what a good guy he was, right? That he was a stand-up guy, an ex-cop, that whole bit?"
"Some of 'em, sure," Ursitti said.
Andros said, "I don't get it-you're saying he was allergic to the Klonopin?"
Before Mac could answer, the door opened to Captain Russell. He was holding his cell phone in his hand. "Detective Taylor, I have a Dr. Peyton Driscoll from the medical examiner's office on the phone. She says it's urgent that she talk to you and that it has to do with the Washburne case."
"Thank you, Captain," Mac said, taking the phone from Russell. "If you could stay a moment, please?"
"I have a prison to run, Detective, and I don't appreciate being made to be your errand boy."
"It's for a good cause, Captain, since you won't let me bring my phone in here." He put Russell's flip-top phone to his ear. "Peyton?"
Peyton told him exactly what he was expecting to hear. He thanked her and closed the phone, then handed it back to Russell. "The ME has confirmed that Malik Washburne was fatally allergic to Klonopin," he said.
"That's impossible!" Ursitti said. "The man's been on Klonopin since he got here."
"No," Flack said, "he wasn't. He didn't believe in mind-altering drugs, so he didn't take any."
"And the COs looked the other way," Mac said. "They liked Washburne, they respected him, and they were willing to help him out. But Officer Andros here wasn't in the loop."
Andros was rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers. "I don't believe this. You're saying that by making him take the pill, I killed him?" He sounded more than a little devastated.
"Again, Officer Andros, this isn't your fault."
"No," Flack said, "it's the fault of the jackasses who didn't share their AA plan with you."
"'Cause they think I'm a rat." Andros pounded a fist on the table. "Jesus! I should just go back to Sing Sing."
"There's no need for that, Randy," Ursitti said. "This isn't on you-it's on everyone else."
"Damn right it is," Russell said. "I can't believe that this sort of abuse was happening on my watch. There's no excuse for letting a convict get away with not taking his prescribed medication."
"The prescribed medication would've killed him," Mac said. "Even leaving that aside, his religious beliefs prohibited him from taking them."
"Then he should've said something!" Russell shook his head. "I liked the man, too, Detective, but that was just irresponsible." He looked at Andros. "Don't worry, Randy, you won't take any heat for this." Then he glowered at Ursitti. "You may be the only one who doesn't."
Mac glanced at Flack. "That's up to you, Captain, but I think our investigation is complete. Washburne's death was accidental. Turns out you only had one murderer here."
Flack added, "And I'm taking him off your hands."
"You're welcome to him," Russell said. "And thank you both for your excellent work."
"It's our pleasure," Mac said.
"But not as much of a pleasure as it will be to take Mulroney out of here," Flack said. "C'mon, Mac, let's go."
As Mac followed Flack out into the corridor, he couldn't help but notice that Flack was walking gingerly-and wondered how he missed it before. He put a hand on Flack's arm to get him to stop walking for a second. In a low voice, he said, "Listen, Don-have you been taking the painkillers they prescribed?"
Rolling his eyes, Flack said, "Jesus, Mac, don't you start. Bad enough I got Terry and Sheldon on my ass."
Mac chuckled at Flack's histrionics. "All right, all right, I'm sorry. I'm just concerned, is all."
Flack took a breath. "I appreciate it, Mac, but I'm fine. Really."
"If you say so."
"I say so. Now c'mon, let's take a bad guy out of jail and put him in another jail."
21
STELLA HAD TO ADMIT to having a great deal of fun going through Marty Johannsen's apartment.
Marty lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in a large complex on Henry Hudson Parkway East. It was a fairly typical "bachelor pad": dirty laundry everywhere, huge piles of unwashed dishes in the sink, moldy food in the refrigerator, and piles of stuff all over the floor.