Pretty Poison plgm-1

by Joyce Lavene

  “Okay.” She glanced at him, still not happy with it. “I don’t think you were followed. I didn’t see anyone behind you when you pulled in. Did you?”

  “Why didn’t we meet at my house or your apartment?” Peggy tried to get at the heart of the matter.

  “Because Paul or someone else on the job might show up at either place. This has to be kept secret for now. We’re the only ones who can know.”

  They went inside and sat down at a secluded back booth. An irritated waitress took their orders for coffee and hurried off.

  “What makes you think someone would follow me?” Peggy asked Mai when the waitress was gone. The whole thing was comical except for the terrible look of anxiety on Mai’s face.

  “When you know what I know, you’ll understand why we have to be careful.” She looked at Steve again, sighed, then plunged into her disclosure. “Mark Warner wasn’t drinking, he was poisoned.” Her voice was almost too quiet to be heard across the table.

  Peggy sat forward. “Are you sure?”

  Mai nodded and glanced uneasily around the restaurant. “My friend in Raleigh finished the tests tonight. Warner had enough pure protoanemonin in his system that he would’ve died without being hit in the head with the shovel.”

  “Protoanemonin?” Steve asked. “What’s that?”

  “The poisonous part of the anemone plant,” Peggy explained, stunned by the discovery. “In its purest form, anemonin depresses circulation and respiration by paralyzing the motor centers in the brain.”

  “Right,” Mai agreed. “I looked it up. It’s rare. Hard to come by. How would Mark Warner have come in contact with it?”

  “I imagine someone gave it to him. If it’s done right, it’s the perfect poison. It’s tasteless and odorless. The purer the crystal specimen, the less likely it would cause vomiting if it was swallowed. And no convulsions before death. It would appear as though the person was asleep.” Peggy considered what Mr. Cheever told her. “Yet that could account for the odd behavior that made Keeley think Mark had been drinking.”

  Peggy didn’t mention the poisoning in Columbia, though she immediately considered it. How odd to find two rare poisonings with the same substance so close together in time and geography. Unless they were linked somehow. She made a mental note to call Hal Samson and apprise him of the other poisoning.

  “This changes everything.” Mai gripped her hands together tightly on the table. “But how do I tell anybody? The ME has to know. But if I tell him, I have to admit to sneaking into the morgue and conducting my own personal tox screen. He’ll fire me so fast, I won’t know what happened. And if I don’t tell him . . .”

  “You sneaked into the morgue?” Steve asked with a glance at Peggy. “Is that legal?”

  “There’s no point in concentrating on that,” Peggy answered. “We have to find a way to make the police aware of their mistake without Mai losing her job.”

  “I’ve thought of everything.” Mai tore her napkin apart. “There’s no way to accidentally stumble on these results. I might as well face reality. My career is over. I’ll have to get a job at McDonald’s or Taco Bell.”

  Peggy disagreed. “You did what needed to be done. I’ll find a way out for you. Has Mark’s body been released yet?”

  “This evening. I called the funeral home. The body is scheduled for cremation first thing Tuesday morning. His family is holding the memorial service Wednesday. No embalming. At least we don’t have to worry about that. The ME will have to call the body back for a legal tox screen. The media is bound to pick up on it. That puts the whole office in a bad light. It makes it look like we made a mistake.”

  “You did,” Steve reminded her. “But everyone does. At least you caught it before it went too far.”

  “Peggy caught it,” Mai corrected him. “I went along with her.”

  “There has to be some way of undoing this,” Peggy whispered to herself as her brain raced for an answer. Like a bolt of lightning, it came to her. “We’ll have to steal the body back!”

  THE PLAN CAME TOGETHER at ten p.M. in Peggy’s kitchen. She sent Mai home after telling her to be ready for anything. She didn’t call Keeley. The girl needed her sleep, and she couldn’t ask her to be involved with stealing her dead lover’s body from the mortuary.

  She could and did ask Sam. He was only too glad to oblige. He tapped into his fraternity, who considered the idea as nothing more than a prank. Steve sat through the meeting that created the plan. He shook his head a few times but otherwise didn’t voice his disapproval.

  Peggy knew she should probably feel the same, but she’d gotten Mai into this mess; she had to get her out. Sometimes, extraordinary measures were required to help a friend.

  THE FRANKLIN MORTUARY WAS AT the edge of the county. It was one of only a few places that actually did its own cremations, a fact they cited with pride. The landscaped grounds were well-kept and spacious. Several eternal flames glowed at strategic points throughout the cemetery that surrounded the crematorium.

  It was raining at eleven-thirty the next night when the small group banded together to observe their target. The gas flames glowed eerily with heavy fog dripping moisture on the dull brown grass. The building was densely shrouded in fog, only the lights on the outside showing up from the street. Low-hanging clouds embraced skeletal trees and made the night even more ominous. Ghostly white guardian angels watched them.

  “We were lucky to get Jeff to help us,” Sam whispered. “He worked here a few months last year. He knows the place.”

  Jeff shook Peggy’s hand, his long black hair hanging down in his face. “This is soo cool!”

  “Uh—thanks.” Peggy took back her hand and smiled at him. “Does everyone know what they’re doing?”

  “Obviously not, or we wouldn’t be here,” Steve whispered beside her.

  Peggy frowned. “You didn’t have to come.”

  “I didn’t want you to go alone.”

  “We’re here. You don’t have to worry about it.” Sam sounded a little annoyed at Steve’s remark. “Peggy’s fine with us.”

  “Thanks,” Steve said. “I’ll stay.”

  Before they could get off on that tangent, Peggy reminded them of their jobs. “We only have a few minutes to do this. It’s the only chance we’ll have.”

  Everyone sobered and nodded at her. Sam and Jeff and the other five frat boys piled into Jeff ’s purple hearse. Steve and Peggy got back in his Saturn.

  “I hope you don’t think I go around doing this type of thing all the time,” Peggy defended.

  Steve started his car. “I guess I’m new here and didn’t know what to expect. There are some strange things going on in this city.”

  She sighed. Now he thought she was strange. People usually did, but she was hoping he wouldn’t. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. She tried to talk him out of going before they left. He’d insisted. If whatever was between them ended even before it began, she supposed it was for the best. She put it from her mind and focused on her task.

  Jeff told them there was no alarm system in the crematorium, a fact they corroborated earlier in the day with a visual scan for alarm signs. The only alarm system was on the building where the expensive urns and caskets were kept. That was about a quarter mile down the single-lane blacktop road that led into the cemetery.

  Steve followed the hearse behind the crematorium, and they all climbed out of the vehicles. After a few minutes of standing there, looking at the building, Jeff pulled a key from his dirty shirt pocket. “Let’s hope it still works.”

  No one breathed until the key slid in, the door opened, and no alarm sounded.

  “Let’s go,” Peggy urged when no one moved.

  “What now?” Jeff asked her.

  “Now we find Mark’s body.”

  It took a few minutes for them to find the file that led them to the refrigerated drawer where his body was being kept. Peggy insisted on all of them putting on gloves and masks as they moved the body into a black plasti
c bag Jeff had thoughtfully provided for their use.

  They wheeled the body out to the hearse and loaded it into the back. Peggy collected the gloves and masks to be sure none were left behind. She asked if anyone closed the file on the desk.

  “I did,” Steve responded, handing her his mask and gloves. “We should be covered.”

  “Then let’s get out of here,” Sam advised. “This place is creeping me out.”

  Jeff relocked the door, and the two cars slowly drove out of the cemetery. The fog closed in around the crematorium as they got back on the road. Peggy looked out the side window and shivered.

  “Cold?” Steve asked.

  “No,” she replied. “I think I’m in shock. I can’t believe what we just did.”

  AT EIGHT THE NEXT MORNING, a young woman walked into the cafeteria at the University of North Carolina in Charlotte. She got a carton of milk and some cookies from a machine. There were only a few other students half asleep at the tables. She chose to sit at a table with a man who appeared to be reading, his head was bent over a book. His floppy hat hid most of his face.

  “You look like you had a worse night than me,” the young woman said as she sat down. “Finals?”

  The man didn’t reply.

  The young woman shrugged and opened her breakfast. She glanced at her companion. “Are you sick? My roommate has the flu. I hope I don’t get it.”

  The man didn’t reply.

  The young woman dropped one of her cookies. When she picked it up off the floor, she noticed her companion was only wearing socks on his feet. She brushed off the cookie. “Five second rule, right? It’s pretty cold to go without shoes. Did you lose yours?”

  When he didn’t reply again, she moved closer and looked at his face. Shaking her head, she removed the man’s hat and watched as he slid forward to rest against the table. She raised her voice and said, “Okay. Someone call the dean. The frat boys are at it again.”

  IT ONLY TOOK a cell phone call to 911 to set the wheels in motion. A squad car accompanied an ambulance that picked up the body and tagged it as a John Doe. It was taken to the morgue, where assistant ME Mai Sato began work on identifying the corpse, including a tox screen.

  By the time the ME realized they were looking at Mark Warner’s body again, the tox screen was being processed.

  The Franklin Mortuary and Crematorium filed a breaking and entering report along with theft of a cadaver.

  Julie Warner’s tearful face was all over the news as she begged the thief to return her husband’s body.

  Even when the ME’s office called the crematorium and the Warner residence to tell them they had the body, it took another forty-eight hours to have the body returned to the mortuary.

  Just before the body was scheduled to be released again, Mai went to the ME with the completed tox screen. The ME frowned, took a deep breath, then called the DA’s office. Mark Warner’s body wouldn’t be released after all. Not until further tests were made.

  “They’re actually talking about giving me a commendation,” Mai told Peggy. “I don’t know if I should feel guilty or happy.”

  “The important part is that the ME knows the truth, and he found out without you losing your job.”

  Mai thanked her. “I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t want to know. But I appreciate your help.”

  “I got you into this mess. I apologize. Sometimes I get a little overexcited about things. I don’t always think before I act.”

  But Peggy was pleased with the outcome. Her knee was feeling so much better, she was going to be able to ride her bike to the shop. It was Saturday, but she was expecting a few special customers in for their orders. Then she was going to tackle a new design for an indoor flower box at an uptown restaurant.

  She took Shakespeare for his walk, not noticing a basket of flowers on her front step until they were going back to the house. The flowers were purple hyacinths. She breathed in their springtime fragrance, then looked at the card. “Traditional meaning: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. It would grieve me to lose our friendship. Nightflyer.”

  Her cell phone rang. Peggy recognized his voice and took a deep breath. “What do you want from me?” She glanced around the yard. Shakespeare was pulling toward the house for his breakfast. A man in an overcoat walked by on the sidewalk. At the same time, a car drove slowly past.

  “I want to help.” Nightflyer’s tone was contrite. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Then tell me who you are and how you know so much.”

  “Do you remember a case John worked with the FBI? It was about ten years ago. He had a contact. A friend from college. It was me. As far as how I knew about these two cases, I suppose you could say I’m interested in what appears to be poisonings. I monitor the Internet, police information, and hospitals. It’s not hard if you know how to do it.”

  Peggy recalled the case. John spent a lot of time on it. She couldn’t remember what it was about, but she did remember him mentioning being at school with his FBI contact. “I remember that. But if that’s you, why didn’t you tell me? Why all the mystery?”

  The laugh from the other end was harsh. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me to help.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. It made sense in some twisted way. Of course, he could’ve found that information like he knew so many other things. “What kind of gun did John carry?”

  There was a brief pause and a chuckle. “You’re a cop’s wife, Peggy. John was lucky to have you. He carried a Smith and Wesson .45. It wasn’t standard to his department. He just liked it.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted. “I don’t think you could learn that from the Internet. So what now? Do you come out of hiding and have tea with me?”

  “I’m afraid not. But I’ll be in touch.”

  The line went dead before Peggy could ask his name. Nightflyer would have to do. For now. But at least she knew she didn’t have to worry about him stalking her. Maybe he’d change his mind and tell her the whole story. Something in the tone of his voice when he began to explain who he was tugged at her curiosity.

  She took the hyacinths and Shakespeare into the house. The phone was ringing. She grabbed it as she released him from his leash. He bounded into the kitchen for his breakfast, and she breathlessly answered the call.

  It was Hal Samson. “Sorry I couldn’t get back to you before now. I was testifying at an insurance case for the hospital. What’s wrong?”

  Peggy told him about Mark’s death. She didn’t go into detail about everything, but she managed to explain about the similar poisoning.

  “You think there’s some connection?”

  “I don’t know. I think it might be worthwhile checking into. I’m free this afternoon. How about you?”

  They agreed to meet at the county hospital in Columbia. Peggy called Al and gave him the details she knew about the poisoning in South Carolina.

  “I can’t go with you officially,” Al told her. “But unofficially, I’d like to hear the case. It was pretty amazing what happened with Warner, huh?”

  “It was. I can’t imagine how it happened, can you?”

  THE MORNING PASSED QUICKLY AT the Potting Shed. Peggy’s first order of faux antique garden tools came in and sold out to the few customers who were there. She got on-line and ordered two more shipments. She knew the implements would be popular, but she didn’t imagine they’d be gone before she had time to advertise them.

  She let Dawn close the shop while she hurried over to Ri-Ra’s Irish Restaurant and Pub on Tryon Street. The owner was interested in adding flower boxes to the upstairs deck. It was outside, in the shadow of the Hearst building. Not many people were eating out there in the cooler weather, but Peggy could imagine colorful boxes during the warmer parts of the year. Of course, there could always be pansies to liven up the cold months.

  The owner also wanted a bid on maintaining the rest of the indoor plants combined with building and maintaining the flower boxes. Peggy promised to
have something for him in the next few days. She shook his hand and went to meet Al.

  He was waiting outside Latta Arcade in his blue Isuzu Trooper. “Lucky for me Mary was busy today. She doesn’t take kindly to me mentioning work on a Saturday.”

  Peggy fastened her seat belt. “I’m glad you could go with me. Dr. Samson treated the woman who died. He consulted me because of my work with poisons. But he doesn’t know anything about police work. You may be able to shed some light on the investigation.”

  “Did they arrest anyone for the poisoning?” Al turned the car on to Interstate 77 toward Columbia.