“Gavin was a little annoyed, I think,” Cathleen said. “But he didn’t make a big fuss like he usually did at one of his forced gatherings. He liked to keep everyone there as long as possible so he could torture us more.”
“No, he didn’t make a fuss.” Nancy frowned. “That was a bit odd, and then he did another odd thing.”
“You mean the food,” Cathleen said, and Nancy nodded.
“What about the food?” I asked.
“There was quite a bit left over,” Cathleen said. “And it was good stuff, too. I guess the hotel catered it.”
“It wasn’t the usual cheese tray Gavin picked up at the local discount warehouse, that’s for sure,” Nancy said.
“No, thank goodness.” Cathleen eyed the food that remained on the table near us. “In fact it was pretty much the same as this.”
I wasn’t sure where this was leading, and they were taking too long to get to the point. I tried not to sound irked when I asked, “So what was it about the food that was odd?”
“Oh, just that usually Gavin made sure nobody took any of the leftovers with them,” Cathleen said.
“He always wanted to keep them for himself,” Nancy said. “That’s how cheap he was.”
“This time, though, he told us to help ourselves to whatever we wanted, even his precious bottled water,” Cathleen said.
The mention of bottled water startled me. “Did any of you take food and water with you?”
“I took some food. I love those pinwheel-looking things with the cream cheese and spinach,” Cathleen said. “So I took several of those, and a couple of those little Greek pastry things with the spinach inside. What are they called? I can’t remember.”
“You mean spanakopita?” I asked. “I love it, too.”
“Yes, that’s it,” Cathleen said. “So I took that and the other. I love spinach, in case you couldn’t tell.”
I looked to Nancy, and she shook her head. “I don’t care for spinach, and I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the other stuff. I didn’t even take any of Gavin’s precious water.”
Nancy laughed suddenly. “Maxine was always like a squirrel around a table full of nuts, though. She stuffed several napkins full of food into her knitting bag, along with a bottle of water.”
“Yes, she did,” Cathleen said. “You’d think the woman hadn’t eaten in days. I took a bottle of water, too, and so did Harlan.”
My heart started racing. I worked to keep my voice steady when I asked Cathleen whether she had opened the water bottle.
She looked at me strangely, then nodded. “Yes, I drank it yesterday. Why, did you think it was poisoned?”
THIRTY-TWO
I nodded in response to Cathleen’s question.
“Oh, my good heaven, you did think it might be poisoned,” Cathleen said, suddenly looking a bit green. She shuddered. “But why? Why would you think the water was poisoned?”
Nancy stared at me, obviously confused. “Did you think the killer poisoned more than one of Gavin’s water bottles?”
“He—or she—poisoned two of them, at least.” They obviously didn’t know how Maxine Muller died.
Nancy’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean Maxine?”
“Yes,” I said. “The killer might only have poisoned a couple of them, although I’m not sure why he’d need to have poisoned more than one.”
“Because Gavin never shared with anyone,” Nancy said. “The killer could have, with almost overwhelming certainty, counted on the fact that Gavin, and Gavin only, would drink the poisoned water.”
“Exactly,” I said. “But there were at least two poisoned bottles. So why poison a second one? And maybe a third or a fourth?”
Nancy paled suddenly. “Thank the Lord I didn’t take one of those bottles. What happened to the rest of them?”
“I imagine the authorities have them now,” I said. “I suppose they will test all the remaining ones, that they know about, of course.”
Cathleen seemed to have recovered from her earlier shock. “Somebody needs to talk to Harlan, then, since he took one of the bottles. Maybe his was clean, though, like mine.”
“Either it was, or he hasn’t opened it yet,” Nancy said with a certain grim humor. “Charlie, maybe you’d better go ask him.”
“Yes, you should,” Cathleen said.
Given that I was pretty sure now that Harlan Crais was a double murderer, I wasn’t all that keen on approaching him. If he were the killer, I reasoned, he would know which bottles were poisoned. If he weren’t, though, he could be in danger if he’d somehow been given a poisoned bottle. What should I do?
I realized that both women were now watching me closely. They exchanged a glance, then focused on me again.
Nancy spoke first. “You’re reluctant to talk to him, aren’t you?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer and continued in a low tone. “That’s because you think he’s the killer, don’t you?”
“That’s it,” Cathleen said, speaking a little too loudly in her excitement. “But why? Why would Harlan kill Gavin? And poor, harmless Maxine? I don’t understand.”
“Keep your voice down.” Nancy glared at Cathleen, who mimed an apology.
I found myself in a quandary. I didn’t want to confirm these women’s guesses that I had decided that Harlan Crais was the murderer. But could I deny that I had and make them believe me? If Kanesha knew about this, she’d have my guts for garters, as the old saying went. I had to respond to them, but what was I going to say?
In desperation I said, “Look, I don’t know if he’s the killer. I can’t talk about his possible motives for the same reason I couldn’t tell you what Mitch Handler told me. For a couple of reasons, though, I can’t just go up to him and ask him whether he still has that bottle of water.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Cathleen asked. “If he still has it and opens it, he might not be as lucky as I was.”
“I know that,” I said, trying not to sound as aggravated and worried as I felt. “I have to have a minute to think about this. Please.”
Neither of the women spoke after that. They stood waiting, quietly, and I had a few moments to think about what to do. When all else failed, I reckoned, summon the cavalry.
I pulled out my cell phone and sent Kanesha a text: 911 found out Fong gave away couple bottles of water from his suite. One harmless; other one status unknown. Given to Harlan Crais. Right now at party in my sight.
I added the suite number and sent the message. I could only hope that Kanesha read the text and acted on it immediately.
“Who did you text?” Nancy asked.
“Deputy Berry,” I said. “I think she needs to handle this.” I didn’t take my eyes from the cell phone screen. Come on, Kanesha. The words ran like a litany through my head for at least thirty seconds. Then my phone buzzed: On it.
“Thank you, thank you,” I whispered. I took a couple of deep breaths to release some of the tension. I saw that the two women were watching me closely. “She’s on it,” I said.
“Thank heavens,” Nancy murmured.
“What will she do?” Cathleen asked.
“I don’t know.” Now I had my gaze focused on Harlan Crais. Would Kanesha call him? Send one of her men to the suite? Come herself?
Somewhere in the room a phone rang and continued to ring. It took me a moment to locate the source of the sound. It was the room phone. Even as I found it, Lisa Krause was answering it. She was too far away, and there was too much noise around us, for me to hear her part of the conversation.
After a moment I saw her scanning the crowd, then she moved in the direction of Harlan Crais. The phone was cordless, and she simply took it to Crais and handed it over. He appeared startled as he accepted the phone.