No One Is Innocent

by Gayle Tiller

  I was in shock. First Ralph and now the Chief. It could be just a coincidence. Maybe the Chief had died of a stroke or heart attack. He was overweight and he was in his fifties. So there was a good chance, it was a heart attack.

  I thanked the clerk for his information and headed to the coroner's office.

  * * *

  The coroner's deputy was Dr. Susan Milton who was a gapped tooth, overweight woman in her late thirties with a bad complexion. She had just finished performing an autopsy on the Chief and his body was draped with a white sheet. I decided to play innocent and asked, "What do you think is the cause of the Chief's death? Heart attack?"

  She rolled her eyes and looked at me like I didn't know what the hell I was talking about. She replied, "No, it wasn't a heart attack. It looks like a case of poisoning from a bad batch of mushrooms."

  The Chief might have been a novice mushroom picker and had just picked the wrong type of mushrooms. That prospect was unlikely. Even though I suspected that my next question would piss off Dr. Milton, I decided to ask it anyway.

  "Mushrooms? So did the Chief pick his own?"

  29

  Dr. Milton glared at me and said, "No, he didn't pick his own mushrooms. Anyone can tell that he's not a hiker. Just look at him."

  I could tell from her tone, she definitely had a bad case of PMS. I replied, "I see what you're saying. But I never assume anything about anybody."

  "And you call yourself a private investigator." She then rolled her eyes at me.

  Damn, this woman or should I say bitch just insulted me. I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but instead I calmly said, "So how did the Chief wind up eating these mushrooms?"

  From the look on her face, she was surprised that I hadn't gone off on her. But what was the point? She was looking for a fight, but I wasn't interested. This woman needed Midol bad and if Midol wasn't the answer, then she needed to enroll in an anti-bitch behavior class.

  As if she had just read my mind, Dr. Milton replied in a softer tone and said, "It's my time of the month and I am just going through some changes."

  Now that's a lot better. The woman at least admitted she had PMS.

  Now, we can get down to business.

  I said, "I know what you mean."

  She cracked a smiled and said, "Thanks for understanding. But to answer your question about the Chief, he had two slices of pizza with mushrooms, pepperoni, and bell peppers at lunch. He apparently had purchased the pizza the night before from Real Pizza in San Jose and took two slices to work. We have a copy of the order slip. A slice of the pizza was left in his refrigerator at his home in San Jose. The San Jose Police tested the slices and the results show the mushrooms were definitely poisonous. And it matches what we found. The mushrooms are called Amanita phalloides."

  "Amanita what?"

  "Most folks call them Death Cap mushrooms. Death Caps are responsible for over 95% of the fatal mushroom poisonings in the world."

  "How common are poisonings from Death Caps?"

  "It used not be that common at all, but the last few years Death Caps have been springing up all over the place including people's yards."

  "But how would the Death Caps wound up on the Chief's pizza?"

  "A lot of times, they are mistaken for Volariella speciosa which is an edible cousin of the Death Cap. My guess is that the company that sold the mushrooms to the pizza parlor is going to be out of some serious 30

  money. They obviously didn't do a careful job of picking their mushrooms."

  "So what you're saying is that his family has a real good chance of collecting money from the mushroom company."

  "That's it. So you should go tell the family to go hire themselves a good lawyer."

  "You bet I will. Thanks for your time."

  There was no way that I believed that the mushrooms were placed on the pizza by accident. No, my gut told me the Chief had been murdered.

  But I had no motive and no evidence. And that was what I needed to find the killer.

  * * *

  I pulled up at Real Pizza, which was on the Eastside. I asked to see the owner. After a few minutes of waiting, Veronica Saunders a young woman in her late twenties with short dreadlocks greeted me. I introduced myself and asked her if she was the owner.

  "Part owner. My brothers Roger and Irvin are the other co-owners. We inherited the place from our parents after they were killed in a boating accident."

  "I'm sorry about your parents."

  "That's okay, it happened a long time ago."

  "Anyway, have you heard about Oakland Fire Chief Carpenter dying from Death Cap mushrooms?"

  "Yeah, it is very unfortunate. I was just interviewed by a reporter. Like I told the reporter, the mushrooms didn't come from here."

  "I don't know how you can say that. The same mushrooms that killed the Chief were found on a slice of pizza in his refrigerator in one of your pizza boxes. So the pizza was ordered from you. The coroner's office also has a copy of the order slip."

  "That doesn't mean anything. Last night, we had over 100 orders for pizza. Of these 100 orders, 36 orders included orders for mushrooms as a topping. No one else has been hospitalized. No one else has complained about feeling ill. We haven't received one complaint. Let me show you our records."

  Veronica took me to the computer in her office. She pulled up her file from last night's order and printed a copy. She was right 36 orders had mushrooms as a topping. I quickly scanned the addresses and noticed that Kristal had made one of the orders. Was it a coincidence? I hadn't heard anything from her since I last saw her. I hoped that she was alright.

  31

  "It is possible that the Chief's mushrooms were from a bad batch of mushrooms?"

  "No, because all of the mushrooms came from the same batch. We had just purchased two pounds of mushrooms from Dinelli's yesterday morning. Like I said before, no one else became ill."

  "Your pizza maker could have picked from a pile of bad mushrooms and put them on the pizza."

  "No, it's not possible. Each day, we wash them and slice them and mix them up."

  "How do you know that was done yesterday?"

  "Because I did that myself. We were shorthanded last night so I personally made several of the orders. So there is absolutely no way that the mushrooms came from here."

  "How do you think the poisonous mushrooms wound up on the top of one your pizzas?"

  "I don't know. That's for you and the cops to figure out."

  "Do you think that the Chief was intentionally poisoned?"

  "Again, I don't know. I'm not a cop. But once this airs on the news, it's going to hurt our business."

  So I was right about both the Chief and Ralph having been murdered.

  I only hoped that Kristal was still alive.

  * * *

  When I got to Kristal's home, there were several television vans parked on the street. I knocked on the door and Marianne Britton answered it. She was a well-dressed handsome white woman in her late fifties. I introduced myself.

  Mayor Britton smiled and said, "You're Lt. Ron Myers' daughter. I've heard a lot of good things about you. I'm glad that Kristal hired you."

  "What's your feeling about Ralph Woods' and Richard Carpenter's deaths?"

  She looked at me directly in the eyes and said, "We don't have any proof at this point, but my feeling is that they both were murdered. I spoke with the Police Chief just a few minutes ago and he told me that this case would be assigned to the Homicide Unit and it would be given top priority."

  Dad would be handling the case. That would be interesting. If I couldn't find anything, maybe the Homicide Unit would. Everything pointed to murder, but there was no suspect and no motive.

  32

  Kristal walked into the living room with an entourage of reporters. She led them to the front door and said good-bye to them.

  She then sat down in the living room next to the Mayor.

  I wasn't sure if I could trust the Mayor with the information that
I had just discovered. I looked at Kristal and asked, "Do you mind if we meet alone in the study?"

  Kristal replied, "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Mayor Britton."

  My gut told me that there was something about the Mayor I couldn't trust. So I asked again, "Kristal, I would really like to discuss my findings alone with you. It's always been my policy to meet with my clients alone."

  Kristal became irate and said, "Mayor Britton is one of my dearest and closest friends. I trust her with my life. So just say what you have to say."

  "Alright. First, with respect to your husband's death, I found out that your husband had obtained a prescription from the pharmacy for erot-hymicin and not penicillin on August 24. On the bottle, it says penicillin on the label but they have no record of a prescription for penicillin. Also, the pharmacist informed me that the label was not theirs, because their labels have bar codes. This practice was instituted in 1998 after they were sued for filling a wrong prescription."

  Kristal's eyes widened and she said, "So someone switched labels and switched the pills in my husband's medicine bottle."

  "Exactly."

  "As for the Chief, he apparently ordered pizza the night before from Real Pizza. That night they filled 36 orders of pizza, which had mushrooms as a topping. All of the mushrooms came from the same batch.

  Yet, he was the only person who was poisoned."

  Kristal replied, "I know about the pizza, because I ordered pizza from Real Pizza last night with my favorite- mushrooms, bell peppers, and pepperoni. Nonetheless, I am fine and well."

  Kristal and the Chief had ordered the same identical pizza. It was probably just a coincidence. But then again, it might not be.

  I said, "Anyway, they found a slice of the pizza at the Chief's home which contained the Death Cap mushrooms. Apparently, he had taken two slices to work for lunch and he later died. It's my theory that someone switched the mushrooms in the middle of the night at his home. He then took the bad slices to work and the rest is history."

  Kristal smiled and said, "You're brilliant. Now, all we need to do is to find the killer."

  33

  "That's the hard part. At this point, we have no motive. So there are no suspects. It doesn't make sense. Richard Carpenter is the number one candidate for Fire Chief and he then leaves for Oakland. Grady gets the job, so there is no reason for anyone to get upset. Your husband asked for an investigation which probably would only have shown that Carpenter got a better offer from Oakland."

  "I know there has to be more than that. My husband would not have asked for an investigation if he didn't think there was anything going on."

  "Who is the president of the Fire Union?"

  "George Stone. He's been over the union for the past five years. He's part of the good old boys' network. The Black Firefighters don't have a lot of respect for him."

  "I'll need to meet with him."

  The Mayor said, "I can arrange a meeting with you and George. How about tomorrow late afternoon?"

  "I'm not available. How about 9:00 Monday morning?"

  The Mayor replied, "We have all day conference on Monday with the union. Make it Tuesday and I'll set it up."

  "That's fine." I turned to Kristal and said, "The last time I was here I didn't have a chance to copy the hard drive of the computer. Do you mind if I do it now?"

  "Sure, that's no problem. Why don't I take you into the study."

  I said good-bye to the Mayor and thanked her for her time.

  Kristal took me to the study and within an hour I had everything copied from the hard drive.

  I then called my father.

  "Dad, how are you doing?"

  "I just got assigned that damn Carpenter and Woods case."

  "Dad, I am at Kristal's home now. Can I come over in an hour?"

  "Sure. Have you eaten dinner?"

  "No."

  "That's why you stay so slim. How about if I order out?"

  "Sounds good."

  "How about a pizza with bell peppers, pepperoni, and mushrooms?"

  I started to laugh and said, "Dad, you are too cruel."

  "I'm just kidding. Anyway, is Chinese okay? I'll order your favorite- al-mond chicken over rice with egg rolls."

  "Sounds good to me. I'll see you in a bit."

  I hung up the phone and said good-bye to Kristal.

  34

  * * *

  I walked into the living room where Mama's picture hung over the fireplace. Mama had been petite and shapely; light-skinned with piercing dark eyes, and tightly curled dark brown hair. Her lips had been full and she had a regal African nose.

  Dad was tall and lanky, brown-skinned with light eyes and balding.

  His lips were thin and his nose was angular. Dad was not a classically handsome man, but he was pleasant to look at.

  Mama on the other hand was a beautiful woman and she knew it.

  She was disappointed that I had looked like a tomboy version of my father.

  Mama wanted a daughter who looked liked her, so she and Dad tried to have other children. After miscarrying three times, Mama and Dad stop trying.

  Mama put her energies into trying to turn me into her little princess.

  She took me to dance lessons, but I failed. I was too tall, too skinny, and too clumsy.

  She then decided that I should be in the school chorus. This turned out to be a disaster. When the chorus director heard me sing, he told me that I could be in the chorus so long as I didn't open my mouth.

  Mama still hoped that I had some kind of talent so she enrolled me in an art class. I tried so hard but it was useless. I couldn't even color in the lines let alone cut a pattern straight.

  So Mama stopped trying to make me into something I wasn't. She finally let me decide what I wanted to do. And at the age of eight, I learned that I liked to explore things. You know find out why something happened and who made it happen. In other words, I liked to investigate things.

  Mama encouraged me to investigate things and I became good at it.

  That's why I decided to become a private investigator.

  I think my decision kind of inspired Mama to go back to school to study for her law degree. Folks had always treated Mama special, because of her looks. Back in her day, everybody told her that she looked like a movie star and she should go to Hollywood and try out for a part or two. In fact, one movie director approached Mama for a small part, but Mama turned him down because she was three months pregnant with me.

  But nobody ever really told her that she was smart. Well, nobody except Dad and me. I think when she saw that I had an aptitude for 35

  learning, she decided that she had passed this trait onto me. Mama must have thought if her daughter was smart, she must be too.

  At age of 37, Mama earned her law degree and passed the California Bar on her first try and went to work for the District Attorney's office.

  In the courtroom, Mama was a brilliant performer. Four years later, she was trying murder cases. She was constantly in the paper.

  And then, Mama discovered a small lump in her left breast. She ignored it, because she thought that it was nothing. A year later, the lump had spread to both of her breasts. They were removed, but it was too late. The cancer had spread throughout her body.

  She continued to try to work, but got to the point where she was too weak to do anything. Mama refused to take chemo, because she felt it was a waste of time. She tried alternative health treatments and nothing worked. Dad and I tried to take care of her the best that we could, but we knew there was nothing we could do. On March 21, the afternoon before Mama's forty-third birthday, she died at home holding both our hands.

  After Mama's death, we gathered all of her belongings and put everything in storage, which was two blocks from where she was buried at Maple Knolls Cemetery. Dad hasn't had the strength to take her things from storage so everything is still there.

  Even after all these years, I still miss Mama. I wish she could be here.
>
  Dad walked into the living room and hugged me. He asked, "Jazz, why are you looking so sad?"

  "Dad, I was just thinking about her."

  "I know what you mean."

  "Dad, I don't want to think about the past. Let's talk about something positive."

  "So Jazz, have you found any leads in the case?"

  "Not yet, but give it time. Have you found anything?"

  "Not a damn thing. I think that Ralph's and the Chief's deaths are coincidences and that Real Pizza and the pharmacy are covering up for their mistakes. And if they are not covering up, I think that Kristal killed Ralph and the Chief."

  "Dad, if Ralph had only died that might make sense. That happens all the time in domestic violence cases. But why would Kristal kill the Chief? What for?"

  "Hell, if I know. It might be some sort of love triangle. Who knows?

  But Jazz, think about this. Kristal ordered the same pizza as the Chief.

  My guess is that she switched pizzas with the Chief and laced his pizza with Death Cap mushrooms."

  36

  "What about Ralph's death?"

  "She knew that Ralph was allergic to penicillin and that taking penicillin could kill him. All that she had do was to switch his pills."

  "Then Dad why would she come to me? Everyone thought Ralph's death was an accident."

  "Just in case, someone started pointing fingers at her. Jazz, it happens all the time. Remember the OJ case?"

  "Dad, he was found innocent."

  "Come on, Jasmine look at the facts of that case. Don't do what the rest our community did and defend him simply, because of the color of his skin."

  "Dad, I see your point. But you know, I don't think that Kristal killed Ralph and the Chief. You know that she's pregnant with Ralph's baby."

  "So that's the bullshit she told you."

  "You mean it's not true?"

  "Who knows and who cares? If she's pregnant, the baby may not be Ralph's. It could be the Chief's or someone else's. Anyway, that still doesn't make her innocent. If Kristal didn't kill them, who did?"