“You did the right thing,” Kerney said, responding to the anxiety in Parker ’s voice.
“Oh, good. I was worried that perhaps I had caused you some problems.”
“Not at all,” Kerney said. “Thanks.”
He disconnected before Parker had a chance to get chatty, and the phone rang almost immediately.
“I’ve been trying to ring you,” Ellie Lowrey said.
Kerney chuckled. “Ring me? What a terribly British thing to say.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I also like to say lorry instead of truck, and knickers instead of underpants.”
“How revealing. What’s up, Sergeant?”
“Can you meet me for coffee?” Ellie asked.
“Tell me where,” Kerney answered.
The diner was, of course, the kind favored by penny-pinching cops, who were always on the lookout for a decent meal and a good cup of coffee at a reasonable price. Kerney sat with Lowrey in a booth and read the prenuptial legal amendment that gave Claudia Spalding the right to seek sexual fulfillment outside her marriage without penalty.
“My, my,” he said as he returned the document to Lowrey.
“It’s valid,” Ellie grumped, “and moreover, the attorney I met with said Claudia Spalding is due to get one-third of her husband’s estate after probate; Alice Spalding, by the terms of her divorce settlement, gets a third; and the rest goes into a trust foundation that Spalding established to do good works.”
Lowrey motioned at the waitress for a coffee refill. “I confirmed Spalding’s operation with the doctor who removed his prostate. He told me it is not uncommon after surgery for men, especially the elderly ones, to become unable to perform in bed.”
“Are you taking Claudia Spalding off your suspect list based on what you’ve learned?” Kerney asked.
Lowrey paused for the waitress to fill her cup and move away before giving Kerney a sour look. “Not necessarily, but it weakens the circumstantial evidence, which is further undermined by the fact that Kim Dean did not fill the prescription for Spalding in Santa Fe. It was handled by a different pharmacy.”
“That’s not what we wanted to hear,” Kerney said. “What about the neighbor’s assertion that Claudia was unhappy in her marriage?”
“Mrs. Spalding said she lied to Deacon and Dean so as not to violate the confidentiality clause in the agreement. But there is some good news. I asked the lab to test first for the presence and levels of thyroid medication in the blood sample that was drawn during the autopsy. The results came back way below what they should have been, given the daily dosage Spalding was supposed to be taking.”
“Would that have killed him?” Kerney asked.
“Over time, quite possibly, according to our pathologist. Too little thyroid hormone would cause a slowing of the heart rate and force the endocrine system to overcompensate. So while the heart struggles to pump blood, the patient could simultaneously have symptoms such as blurry vision, heat intolerance, restlessness, digestive disorders, and the like.”
“Some of which Spalding had been complaining about,” Kerney said.
Ellie nodded. “Exactly. Given Spalding’s already damaged heart muscles, our doc suggests he could have easily gone into cardiac arrhythmia and thrown a clot that blew his pump.”
“What about the pill you found?” Kerney asked.
“It’s under the microscope,” Ellie said, crossing her fingers. “Here’s hoping we find something. But even if the lab does confirm it was altered or duplicated to look like the real thing, I doubt I can get a search warrant approved.”
“What if Dean was acting on his own and somehow managed to switch Spalding’s medication?” Kerney asked.
“Give me the evidence to nail that idea down,” Ellie said, “and I’ll get a warrant signed today.”
Kerney shrugged. “It’s speculation, but worth looking into, nonetheless. Let’s say Dean bought into Claudia’s fairy tale about how unhappy she was with her hubby, and that Dean truly didn’t know about the confidential agreement. Maybe he decided, without Claudia’s knowledge, to set her free from her burden.”
“So he could claim her as his own,” Ellie added. “Good thinking, Chief. Now, tell me how we get from your theory to hard facts.”
Kerney took the check from the waitress and paid the bill. “I’ll have my peelers look into it.”
“Your what?” Lowrey asked with a grin.
“Peelers,” Kerney said, grinning back, as he slid out of the booth. “It’s an Irish slang word for cops.”
Ten blocks from the diner, a city police cruiser with headlights flashing came up behind Kerney’s car. He pulled off the road and the cop car followed, slowing to a stop when he braked and killed the engine. With his eye on the rearview mirror, Kerney watched as the officer called dispatch by radio, trying to figure out exactly what traffic ordinance he’d violated. He rolled down the window as the officer approached, his driver’s license and badge case in hand.
The cop took the license, glanced at it, handed it back, and looked at the open badge case Kerney held out the window.
“Captain Chase would like to see you in his office, Chief Kerney,” the officer said politely. “If you’ll follow me, please, sir.”
“Certainly,” Kerney said, wondering what he might have done to draw Chase away from his all-day meeting and require an escort to headquarters.
At his office, Chase greeted Kerney with a big smile and a hearty handshake.
“Sergeant Lowrey tells me you’re off the hook as a possible suspect,” he said.
“The truth is a persuasive argument for innocence,” Kerney replied.
“That’s for sure,” Chase said, settling into his chair. “Jude Forester said you came by and looked over the Spalding materials.”
“I did,” Kerney said as he sat across from Chase.
“Well, he didn’t show you everything,” Chase said, sliding a slim file folder across the desk. “That’s my file I keep here in the office. Have a look.”
Kerney scanned the contents. It contained Chase’s brief handwritten notes of conversations and contacts he’d had with Clifford and Alice Spalding over the years.
“There’s not much here,” Kerney said.
Chase laughed as he took the folder back. “What did you expect?”
“I was hoping there would be a copy of that newspaper article and photograph about the interstate traffic accident that originally caught Alice Spalding’s attention,” Kerney said. “It wasn’t in Detective Forester ’s file, nor were the statements of the cop and the EMT on the scene who confirmed that the man in the photograph wasn’t George Spalding.”
“It’s not in Forester ’s case material?”
“I didn’t see it,” Kerney replied.
Chase shook his head apologetically, but his expression was wary. “I haven’t looked at that file in years, but it should be in there. Maybe it’s just misplaced.”
“Probably,” Kerney said with an easy smile. “I guess it really doesn’t matter, since Spalding, his ex-wife, and their dead son are no longer of any concern to me.”
“Lucky you,” Chase said with a laugh. “Did you get a chance to talk to Lou Ferry?”
“Yes, last night,” Kerney answered. “But he was in too much pain to tell me much, and now it doesn’t matter.”
“He died early this morning,” Chase said.
“Good for him,” Kerney said. “That’s what he said he wanted to do. Hopefully, he went out easy.”
“In his sleep,” Chase replied with a nod.
“The best way to go.” Kerney slapped his hands on his legs and stood. “Thanks, Captain, for your courtesy and understanding,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound as disingenuous as it felt.
“My pleasure, Chief.” Chase rose, walked around his desk, and put a hand on Kerney’s shoulder. “Call me the next time you’re in Santa Barbara, and I’ll stand you to a drink or two.”