Jamie paused and collected himself. “What kind of confession, Mr. Lane?”
“No confession,” said Steve. He stood abruptly and turned towards the door. Then he turned back, and said. “I know nothing about the murder. I know that Veronica didn’t know about the affair with Sarah until you people began to meddle with our lives, and I know that she couldn’t have killed Sarah even if she had known. I love her, and I will not help you to damage our relationship any further. Good-day,” he slammed the door behind him.
Jamie stared at the closed door for a few minutes. That had been one of the best demonstrations of defensive behavior that he had ever seen. That sort of reaction was guaranteed to convince any onlooker of guilt. Jamie definitely did not like the man, but if he could get a reaction like that up on the witness stand, he could convince anyone of Steve’s guilt. Jamie buzzed his intercom and Louise opened the door.
Her eyes were twinkling in amusement.
Jamie smiled with her. That explosion was so sudden that it was almost ludicrous. “Louise, put that man on our witness list. In fact make him the entire list.” He stretched his hands behind his head in satisfaction.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, about putting him on the list anyway. Also, I want to talk to Hal about this. Tell him, that I need to talk to him this afternoon when he gets a chance.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Louise shook her head as she walked back to her desk.
***
The secretary knocked on Phil Dormand’s door. He looked up in annoyance, but called out for her to come in. She rarely interrupted him when his door was shut unless it was important.
The door opened and the secretary said. “I just received a fax from the police department regarding your case.”
Faxes came from there routinely. Dormand looked at her with a question. “What does it say?”
The woman in high heeled pumps and prim navy skirt carried the fax to his desk, and laid it down officiously. He rolled his eyes. The woman annoyed him. If she hadn’t been there twenty years and been so damned good at her job, he would have fired her for some young, blonde with more daring fashion tastes. He was tempted to, even still. She walked back out of the room and wordlessly shut the door behind her. He wondered if she knew what he thought of her. Probably so. Probably the old bag didn’t care. He reached for the fax.
“Damn.” The cup prints were unidentified. How was he going to convict with no evidence? Detective Chapman jumped the gun again. They should have never picked the doctor up without more evidence.
He punched a button on the right side of his desk. “Dolores, get in here.”
The woman returned and stood in the doorway without a word.
“Dolores, does the defense have this yet?”
“I don’t know sir. It just came across the machine. Very likely they don’t.”
“Call them. Call Stone. I want to speak only with him. If Keats gets on the phone tell him you’ll have to call back.”
“Yes sir,” she closed the door.
Momentarily the phone jingled. Her voice sounded tinny over the intercom. “Mr. Dormand, Mr. Stone.”
He picked up the phone. “Dormand here.”
“James Stone.”
“Stone, nice to hear from you. Listen, we haven’t talked much about this case, I think that we should meet for lunch and go over the particulars. Are you free now?”
Jamie paused, was Dormand calling to suggest a plea-bargain? He shrugged to himself, he would see where this went. “Yes. I’m free. What did you have in mind? He swiveled in his chair and pondered this latest development.
“The Jacket. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.” Dormand was terse.
Fifteen minutes. What was the rush? “Sure. I’ll be there.” Jamie hung up and popped out to Louise’s desk.
“Have we gotten anything new on the Lane case?”
“No sir.” Louise had been with the firm for years and often worked with the new associates to help them get their feet on the ground. She had never seen one as smart as this one. She looked forward to watching his career blossom.
“The prosecution just called me. I think they want to bargain.”
“That might not be a bad idea.”
“Or it might be the worst thing that I could do for my client,” he disagreed. “Cancel my next meeting. I have to be with Dormand in ten minutes.”
Then you’d better get going.”
“Right.” Jamie grabbed his charcoal gray suit coat off of the back of the chair and rolled down his shirt sleeves. In ten minutes he was walking in the door of The Jacket. It was a popular downtown restaurant, usually not so much at lunchtime because the prices tended to be steep. Nevertheless it appeared full. Dormand waved from a table near the back, and he walked over. They shook hands and smiled. Such civilized warriors, thought Jamie.
He pulled up a seat and said, “What did you want to talk about?”
Dormand laughed in surprise, and said, “Right down to business. Why don’t we at least order drinks first?”
A waitress arrived with another menu. Dormand asked her for a martini and winked at Jamie when he saw the top of her bosom peeking over her blouse. Jamie frowned and said, “Water, please.”
As she walked away, Dormand said, “Water? Are you some kind of a teetotaler?”
“I just don’t like to drink in the middle of the day,” answered Jamie. He didn’t mention how sloppy he thought it made the older generation, of the three cocktails over lunch tradition, appear.
Dormand laughed at him again. “Well, I have a proposal for you Jimmy. We know how difficult this case is going to be for everyone, and how badly a mud-slinging campaign will hurt your doctor’s reputation, so I’m prepared to offer manslaughter with two years in minimum security. I’m confident that the judge will go with me on this.”
Jamie knew that he and the judge had worked in the same office until Smoltz was elected to judgeship, where Dormand surely felt that he belonged. At least he wasn’t planning on using this case to grandstand. “I thought this was usually saved until at least the preliminary was over.”
“C’mon, you know that we have enough to take this beyond the preliminary. Why not enter a plea at that time and save us all a lot of trouble?”
Jamie realized Dormand had nothing. “I don’t know that. I’m also not about to plea bargain for my client. Any conviction would mean an end to her career. Good day.”
Dormand called after him. “You’re making a big mistake. Your boss would agree. You’ll regret this.”
Jamie said, “I don’t think so.” He grabbed a couple of peppermints as he walked out of the building.
In the office he handed a mint to Louise. “Here, I brought you a mint.”
She gave a chuckle and said thanks. She had once teased him about not remembering her when he was out of the office, and he had begun bringing useless items back on a routine basis. She had several business cards now; a few pennies, a pile of mints, and a hood ornament which he assured her had come from the ground, and not a car in their lot, although she was not sure if she should believe him. He gave the impression that he had been rather rowdy in his younger days.
“Louise, why don’t you call the police department and see what evidence has turned up, and check with the pathologist too. Dormand didn’t meet with me for the hell of it. Something has damaged his case.”
She nodded, “I’ll call them right now.”
Jamie strolled back to his office and hung up his coat. He pulled a brown bag out of the bottom drawer and ate his cold sandwich and an apple.
He began composing his opening remarks for the preliminary hearing. He would have to be persuasive, and perhaps now with this apparently weaker case, there was a chance of getting the case thrown out right away. He wanted Keats to look over his statement too. It could use his legendary touch. Jamie looked forward to telling him about his lunch meeting in the morning. Keats would eat that up and he would agree. Besides, surely
an offer to bargain today wouldn’t be withdrawn tomorrow.
Jamie couldn’t see himself allowing Dr. Lane to plead anything. Any conviction would ruin her.
Louise peeked around the door and knocked when he stared past her. “Mr. Stone?”
Jamie focused, and cleared his throat. He was drifting. “Yes?”
“The pathologists still don’t have the hair and nail samples back.”
“How about the police?”
Louise was bursting to tell him what she had learned. “The forensics lab found arsenic on the tea set, but the print from it was not a match to the doctor’s.”
“Great! Good job, Louise. Who’s was it?”
“Unknown.”
“Oh. What does that say to you?”
“Well, my guess is that she still isn’t cleared because no new suspect is available, but it certainly weakens the case against her.” Louise loved that Jamie actually listened to her legal theories. He was the only one in the office who did. The only one who had listened since she had been Keats’ secretary back when they first started the practice. Keats always considered what she said and often acted on her logic. He had done well, too.
Jamie rubbed his chin. “Alright, but what can I do with that?”
“They also mentioned that the arsenic was inorganic. Perhaps there’s a difference between that and what your client has.”
“Bingo. That’s great! I’ll check.” Jamie grabbed the phone and dialed Veronica’s number.
He leaned back and propped his feet up on his desk, waiting for her to pick up.
“Hello.”
“Nic, this is Jamie Stone.”
Veronica’s voice quavered a tiny bit. “Yes? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. In fact we are in a very good position. I need to know though about inorganic arsenic. Is there another kind?”
I frowned to myself, “Yes there is another kind. Why?”
“The traces of arsenic on the cup are inorganic.” Jamie prodded.
“Of course they are. That’s the only kind that will kill you.” She continued on vaguely almost to herself. “Epidemiology. What inorganic sources would be on the cup? The sweet peas! We needed to test the produce in the garden for traces of arsenic. Sarah ate from that garden all along. In fact early in her disease she used to proudly bring in tomatoes and herbs to share at the office. Maybe she was still brewing chamomile from the backyard. The boiled, dried leaves would surely concentrate any arsenic on them. Her tiny pleasure may have been her downfall.”
“Veronica? Nic, are you still with me?” Jamie was calling into the phone.
She halted, “Yes. I’m here. What did you say?”
“Nothing, where were you?”
“I was just thinking.”
“I know. You were thinking out loud. But you surely weren’t talking to me.” Jamie was leaning forward in his chair now with his feet on the floor. She had shaken him up simply by phasing out.
“Jamie, did the police collect any evidence from the backyard?”
“Not that they listed.”
“They need to. The vegetables are in the watertable. There’s a stream running right by that feeds them. That’s why they were still flourishing even after she got sick. Even as cool as the weather still is, the peas are twining around covered in flowers.”
“So?”
“So. They are getting nourishment from the stream. They’re occasionally bathed in it.”
“I’m sorry Nic, I don’t follow. Help me out here.” Jamie put his elbows on his desk and looked up quizzically at Louise who lingered in the doorway.
“The house is just down the street from a papermill. If that stuff is leaking out into the stream, then it could be coating her plants.”
Jamie jumped up, startling Louise who vanished back to her desk. “Aha. Not murder at all. I can definitely introduce that as a possibility in court. You’re great!”
Nic’s voice got higher. “Really? Will that release me?” She mentally blessed Dr. Krauss.
“Yes. If we can show that contamination before the preliminary hearing. We only have two more days.”
“I can go pick up samples right now.”
“No! Don’t go near the place! Don’t even think about it.” Jamie shouted into the phone.
Veronica was silent.
“If you go near it, that evidence will be contaminated. I’ll send someone else.”
“I’m sorry. I knew that. I won’t go over there,” Veronica said, her voice tight.
“I’m sorry to shout,” Jamie spoke softly. This case was really getting to him. He’d never been so concerned about an outcome before, or a client. Maybe he should talk to Keats about appointing another associate; someone who was more objective. No, he couldn’t do that. No one could prepare in two days. He couldn’t bail out on her like that. He swore to himself that if this went beyond the preliminary hearing, then he would bow out.
“That’s okay. Anything else?” She knew that he had reason to be nervous. Her initial investigations had aroused suspicion. She wanted him to know this time she would stay right at home.
“No, I’ll let you know about the tests.” As he hung up he wondered who he could trust to collect the samples. The new, young clerks in the office were as likely to come back with handfuls of grass as any type of herb.
“Louise! Do you know anything about gardening?”
Louise returned to the door. “I grew up on a farm.”
Jamie blew out a long breath. “Great. I need for you to do something for me.”
She raised her eyebrows. Gardening was definitely not in her job description.
“Summers was a gardener.”
“Yes?” prompted Louise.
“She ate the produce that grew by a stream in her backyard. The water may have been contaminated. I need some of the plants that she was growing so that we can sample them,” said Jamie.
“Let’s see, you’ll need a neutral third party to collect it. I know someone at the garden club who's a retired police officer. He would probably be a good choice as a collector. I’ll call him.”
“Okay, get him out there today if at all possible. We need this stuff running, as soon as possible. And one more thing.” He called as she turned to return to her desk. “Call the papermill and get a list of hazardous materials produced by them, and, uh, how they dispose of them.”
***
Jamie arrived at the forensics lab first thing on the day before the hearing. He greeted the lab tech, who was always the only one there early in the mornings when he came by looking for evidence.
“How are you Kathy? What have you got for me?” Tension and adrenaline were things he thrived on, and the last twenty-four hours before a court date were a hectic paradise for him.
“Hi, Mr. Stone. Hold on while I check.” The young woman smiled as she set down an evidence collection card in its plastic envelope, and walked back to the main computer. Her hands flew over the keys. “How have you been? I hear the big case in the paper is yours.”
Jamie smiled in response. This was the biggest case he had been a part of. “Yep. It’s mine. I’m hoping what you’ve got here will make my case.”
“Cutting it a little close aren’t you? I thought that I read that the hearing was tomorrow.” She tilted her head, looking up at him through lowered lashes.
“It is, but we have plenty of evidence. I’m just looking for a little extra insurance.”
“Okay. Here it is. Samples of rosemary, mint, and peas?”
“Yes.” Jamie held his breath.
“All negative for arsenic. She’s clean.” The girl smiled in her white coveralls.
Jamie’s head dropped back against the autoclave he was leaning on. He jammed his fists into his pockets and blew out an expletive.
“What’s wrong? Isn’t this good news?” asked the girl.
Jamie shook his head. “No, we were looking for a positive sample.”
“Maybe it’s sample error. Perhaps anothe
r collection would give better results.”
“Too late. It can’t be processed that quickly.”
The tech frowned pulling off her glasses. “Maybe a special courier could take it up. If he took it today, maybe they could fax us the results in the morning,” she mused aloud. “Let me see what I can do.”
Jamie watched over her shoulder as she picked up the phone and dialed the reference lab nearly two states away which was the nearest one equipped to perform the required tests. The woman glanced at her watch. It was two-thirty. “Hi. This is Kathy down in forensics again. I wonder if we could send you another plant sample to process for arsenic. How long would it take to process?”
Jamie loomed behind her as she listened.
“Two days return? What if we got a courier to bring it to you this afternoon? Could it be rushed for tomorrow morning? No?”
Jamie frowned at her back.
“Why is that? Everyone will be gone in half an hour? How can that be? You’re closing at three? Oh, time zone, right,” she nodded. With a sigh she said, “Well thanks, anyway.”
Kathy looked almost more upset than Jamie was. “I’m sorry. They just can’t do it that fast.”
Jamie bit his lip in concentration. He needed to discuss this with Louise. He had requested her as his personal secretary even though the other new associates believed that she was too nosy, because he thought that her guiding advice had been Keats’ great secret to success when he started the firm years ago.
“Thanks anyway for trying to help me out, Kathy,” he gave her a small grin.
“Sure, anytime,” she gave him her best smile as he turned to leave.
Back in the office Jamie stopped at Louise’s tiny desk. “What have you got on the mills in the area?”
Louise pulled out a large sheaf of papers, “I think that you’re going to be pleased.”
“What is this?” Jamie grabbed the stack and sat down in the rough burgundy chair across from her. “What did you find?”
She twirled the glasses hanging around her neck. “It’s the Material Safety Data Sheets from four factories upstream from Summers’ place. These sheets list every chemical used or produced in the mills.”
“And?”
Treating Murder: Book One of the Veronica Lane, M.D. series (medical thriller) Page 20