Kay Scarpet - Cruel And Unusual Part 24

"I certainly wasnat paying her off, but it sounds as if someone was," I said.

"Itas all making a little more sense," Wesley said. "If this bit about her financial picture is accurate, then Susan had gotten a substantial sum of money, meaning she must have supplied a service to someone. Around this same time your computer was broken into and Susanas personality changed. She became nervous and unreliable. She avoided you as much as she could. I think she couldnat face you, Kay, because she knew she was betraying you."

I nodded, struggling for composure. Susan had gotten into something she did not know how to get out of, and it occurred to me that this might be the real explanation for why she fled from Eddie Heathas post and then from Jennifer Deightonas. Her emotional outbursts had nothing to do with witchcraft or feeling dizzy after being exposed to formalin fumes. She was panicking. She did not want to witness either case.

"Interesting," Wesley said when I voiced my theory. "If you ask what of value did Susan Story have to sell, the answer is information. If she didnat witness the posts, she had no information. And whoever was buying this information from her is quite likely the person she was going to meet on Christmas Day."

"What information would be so important that someone would be willing to pay thousands of dollars for it and then murder a pregnant woman?" Lucy asked bluntly.

We did not know, but we had a guess. The common denominator, once again, seemed to be Ronnie Joe Waddell.

"Susan didnat forget to print Waddell or whoever it was that was executed," I said. "She deliberately didnat print him."

"Thatas the way it looks," Wesley agreed. "Someone else asked her to conveniently forget to print him. Or to lose his cards in the event that you or another member of your staff printed him."

I thought of Ben Stevens. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"And this brings us back to what you and I concluded last night, Kay," Wesley went on. "We need to go back to athe night Waddell was supposed to have been executed and determine who it was they strapped in the chair. And a place to start is AFIS. What we want to know is if and what records were tampered with."

He was talking to Lucy now. "Iave got it set up for you to go through the journal tapes, if youare willing."

"Iam willing," Lucy said. "When do you want me to start?"

"You can start as soon as you want because the first step will involve only the telephone. You need to call Michele. Sheas a systems a.n.a.lyst for Department of Criminal Justice Services and works out of the State Police headquarters. Sheas involved with AFIS and will go into detail with you about how everything works. Then sheall begin mounting the journal tapes so you can access them."

"She doesnat mind my doing this?" Lucy asked warily.

"On the contrary. Sheas thrilled. The journal tapes are nothing more than audit logs, a record of changes made to the AFIS data base. Theyare not readable, in other words. I think Michele called them ahex dumpsa' if that means anything to you."

"Hexadecimal, or base sixteen. Hieroglyphics, in other words," Lucy said. "It means that Iall have to decipher the data and write a program that will look for anything thatas gone against the identification numbers of the records youare interested in."

"Can you do it?" Wesley asked.

"Once I figure out the code and record layout. Why doesnat the a.n.a.lyst you know do it herself?a "We want to be as discreet as possible. It would attract notice if Michele suddenly abandoned her normal duties and started wading through journal tapes ten hours a day. You can work invisibly from your auntas home computer by dialing in on a diagnostic line."

"As long as when Lucy dials in it canat be traced back to my residence," I said.

"It wonat be," Wesley said.

"And no one is likely to notice that someone from the outside is dialing into the State Police computer and wading through the tapes?" I asked.

"Michele says she can maneuver it so thereas no problem."

Unzipping a pocket of his ski jacket, Wesley slipped out a card and gave it to Lucy. "Here are her work and home phone numbers."

"How do you know you can trust her?" Lucy asked. "If tampering has gone on, how do you know sheas not involved?"

"Michele has never been good at lying. From the time she was a little girl she would stare down at her feet and turn as red as Rudolfas nose."

"You knew her when she was a little girl?" Lucy looked baffled.

"And before," Wesley said. "Sheas my eldest daughter."

9.

After much debate, we came up with what seemed a reasonable plan. Lucy would stay at the Homestead with the Wesleys until Wednesday, allowing me a brief period to grapple with my problems without worrying about her welfare. After breakfast, I drove off in a gentle snow that by the time I reached Richmond had turned to rain.

By late afternoon, I had been to the office and the labs. I had conferred with Fielding and several of the forensic scientists, and had avoided Ben Stevens. I returned not a single reporters call and ignored my electronic mail, for if the health commissioner had sent me a communication, I did not want to know what it said. At half past four I was filling my car with gas at an Exxon station on Grove Avenue when a white Ford LTD pulled in behind me. I watched Marino get out, hitch up his trousers, and head to the menas room. When he returned a moment later, he covertly glanced around as if worried that someone might have observed his trip to the toilet. Then he strolled over to me.

"I saw you as I was driving past," he said; jamming his hands into the pockets of his blue blazer.

"Whereas your coat?" I began cleaning the front windshield.

"In the car. It gets in my way." He hunched his shoulders against the cold, raw air. "If you ainat thinking about stopping these rumors, then youad better start thinking about it."

I irritably returned the squeegee to its container of cleaning solution. "And just what do you suggest I do, Marino? Call Jason Story and tell him Iam sorry his wife and unborn child are dead but I would certainly appreciate it if he would vent his grief and rage elsewhere?"

"Doc, he blames you."

"After reading his quotes in the Post, I suspect any number of people are blaming me. Heas managed to portray me as a Machiavellian b.i.t.c.h."

"You hungry?"

"No."

"Well, you look hungry."

I looked at him as if head lost his mind.

"And if something looks a certain way to me, itas my duty to check it out. So Iam giving you a choice, Doc. I can get us some Nabs and sodas from the machines over there, and we can stand out here freezing our a.s.ses off and inhaling fumes while we prevent other poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds from using the self-service pumps. Or we can zip over to Philas. Iam buying either way."

Ten minutes later we were sitting in a corner booth perusing glossy ill.u.s.trated menus offering everything from spaghetti to fried fish. Marino faced the dark-tinted front door and I had a perfect view of the rest rooms. He was smoking, as were most of the people around us, and I was reminded that it is h.e.l.l to quit. He actually could not have selected a more ideal restaurant, considering the circ.u.mstances. Philipas Continental Lounge was an old, neighborhood establishment where patrons who had known each other all their lives continued to meet regularly for hearty food and bottled beer. The typical customer was good-natured and gregarious, and unlikely to recognize me or care unless my picture regularly appeared in the sports section of the newspaper.

"Itas like this," Marino said as he closed his menu. "Jason Story believes Susan would still be alive if shead had another job. And heas probably right. Plus, heas a loser - one of these self-centered a.s.sholes who believes everything is everybody elseas fault. The truth is, heas probably more to blame for Susanas death than anyone."

"Youare not suggesting that he killed her?"

The waitress appeared and we ordered. Grilled chicken and rice for Marino and a kosher chili dog for me, plus two diet sodas.

"Iam not suggesting that Jason shot his wife," Marino said quietly. "But he set her up for getting involved in whatever it was that precipitated her homicide. Paying the bills was Susanas responsibility, and she was under big-time financial stress."

"Unsurprisingly," I said. "Her husband had just lost his job."

"Itas too bad he didnat lose his high dollar taste. Weare talking Polo shirts and Britches of Georgetown slacks and silk ties. A couple weeks after he gets laid off, the jerk goes out and buys seven hundred bucksa worth of ski equipment and then heads off to Wintergreen for the weekend. Before that it was a two-hundred-dollar leather jacket and a four-hundred-dollar bicycle. So Susanas down at the morgue working like a dog and then coming home to face-bills her salary wonat put a dew it"

"I had no idea," I said pained by a sudden vision of Susan sitting at her desk. Her dally ritual was to spend her lunch hour in her office, and on occasion I would join her thereto chat. I remembered her generic-brand corn chips and the sale stickers on her sodas. I donat think she ever ate or drank anything she had not brought from home.

"Jasonas spending habits," Marino went on, "leads to the s.h.i.t heas causing you. Heas badmouthing you like h.e.l.l to anybody who will listen because youare a doctor-lawyer-Indian chief who drives a Mercedes and lives in a big house bi Windsor Farms. I think the dumba.s.s believes if he can somehow blame you for what happened to his wife, maybe he can get a little compensation."

"He can try until heas blue in the face."

"And he will."

Our diet drinks arrived, and I changed the subject.

"Iam meeting with Downey in the morning." Marinoas eyes wandered to the television over the bar. "Lucyas getting started on AFIS. And then Iave got to do something about Ben Steven,"

"What you ought to do is get rid of him."

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to fire a state employee?"

"They say itas easier to fire Jesus Christ," Marino said. "Unless the employee is appointed and got a grade off the charts, like you. You still ought to find some way to run the b.a.s.t.a.r.d off."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Oh, yeah. According to him, youare arrogant, ambitious, and strange. A real pain in the a.s.s to work for."

"He actually said something like that?"I asked in disbelief.

"That was the drift."

"I hope someone is checking into his finances. Iad be interested to know if heas made any large deposits lately. Susan didnat get into trouble alone."

"I agree with you. I think Stevens knows a lot and is covering his tracks like crazy. By the way, I checked with Susanas bank. One of the tellers remembers her making the thirty-five-hundred-dollar deposit in cash. Twenties, fifties, and hundred-dollar bills that she was carrying in her purse."

"What did Stevens have to say about Susan?"

"Heas saying that he really didnat know her, but that it was his impression there was some problem between you and her. In other words, heas reinforcing whatas been in the news."

Our food arrived, and it was all I could do to swallow a single bite because I was so angry.

"And what about Fielding?" I said. "Does he think Iam horrible to work for?"

Marino stared off again. "He says youare very driven and heas never been able to figure you out."

"I didnat hire him to figure me out, and compared to him, I am certainly driven. Fielding is disenchanted with forensic medicine and has been for several years. He expends most of his energy in the gym."

"Doc" - Marino met my eyes- "you are driven compared to anyone, and most people canat figure you out. You donat exactly walk around with your heart on your sleeve. In fact, you can come across as someone who donat have feelings. Youare so d.a.m.n hard to read that to others who donat know you, it sometimes appears that nothing gets to you. Other cops, lawyers, they ask me about you. They want to know what youare really like, how you can do what you do every day - what the deal is. They see you as somebody who donat get close to anyone."

"And what do you tell them when they ask?" I said.

"I donat tell them a d.a.m.n thing."

"Are you finished psychoa.n.a.lyzing me yet, Marino?"

He lit a cigarette. "Look, Iam going to say something to you, and you ainat gonna like it. Youave always been this reserved, professional lady - someone real slow to let you in, but once the personas there, heas there. Heas got a d.a.m.n friend for life and youad do anything for But youave been different this past year. Youave had about a hundred walls up ever since Mark got killed. For those of us around you, itas like being in a room that was once seventy degrees and suddenly the temperatureas down to about fifty five. I donat think youare even aware of it."

"So n.o.bodyas feeling all that attached to you right now. Maybe they even resent you a little bit because they feel ignored or snubbed by you. Maybe they never liked you anyway. Maybe theyare just indifferent. The thing about people is, whether youare sitting on a throne or a hot seat, theyare going to use your position to their advantage. And if thereas no bond between you and them, that just makes it all the easier for them to try to get what they want without giving a ratas a.s.s about what happens to you. And thatas where you are. Thereas a lot of people whoave been waiting for years to see you bleed."

"I donat intend to bleed." I pushed my plate away.

"Doc" - he blew out smoke - "youare already bleeding. And common sense tells me that if youare swimming with sharks and start bleeding, you ought to get the h.e.l.l out of the water."

"Might we converse without speaking in cliches, at least for a minute or two?"

"Hey I can say it in Portuguese or Chinese and youare not going to listen to me."

"If you speak Portuguese or Chinese, I promise Iall listen. In fact, if you ever decide to speak English I promise Iall listen."

"Comments like that donat win you any fans. Thatas just what Iam talking about."

"I said it with a smile."

"Iave seen you cut open bodies with a smile."

"Never. I always use a scalpel."

"Sometimes there isnat a difference between the two. Iave seen your smile make defense attorneys bleed."

"If Iam such a dreadful person, why are we friends?"

"aBecause Iave got more walls up than you do. The fact is, thereas a squirrel in every tree and the wateras full of sharks. All of them want a piece of us."

"Marino, youare paranoid."

"Youare d.a.m.n right, which is why I wish youad lay low for a while, Doc. Really," he said.

"I canat."

"You want to know the truth, itas going to start looking like a conflict of interests for you to have anything to do with these cases. Itas going to make you come off looking worse."

I said, "Susan is dead. Eddie Heath is dead. Jennifer Deighton is dead. There is corruption in my office, and we arenat certain who went to the electric chair the other week. Youare suggesting I just walk away until everything somehow magically self-corrects?"

Marino reached for the salt but I got it first.

"Nope. But you can have all the pepper you want," I said, sliding me pepper shaker closer.

"This health c.r.a.p is going to kill me," he warned.

"Because one of these days Iam going to get so p.i.s.sed Iam going to do everything at once. Five cigarettes going, a bourbon in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, baked potato loaded with b.u.t.ter, sour cream, salt and then Iam going to blow every circuit in the box."

"No, youare not going to do any of those things," I said. "Youare going to be kind to yourself and live at least as long as I do."