When Jack got home, he went through his old newspapers until he found the one with the obituaries for the first two young people who had died. He noted Tyler’s and moved his finger down until he came to Brianna Gates. He glanced over the list of relatives and wrote down her sister’s name, Caitlin Carter, husband, Mitch. That should be easy enough if they were in the phonebook. Jack pulled out his phonebook and scrolled down the Carters until he came to an M Carter. He wrote down the number and then picked up the phone and dialled.
“Hello,” a young woman answered the phone. Jack could hear children in the background.
“Hi, is this Caitlin Carter?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“My name is Jack Nelson … I’m working with the police department on a possible case…”
“What does that have to do with me?” Caitlin interrupted nervously.
“I was wondering if I could come over and ask you some questions about your sister, Brianna.”
“Brianna died at the end of May.”
“I know. There was another young man who died the same weekend. I’d rather ask you these questions in person if possible.” Jack paused a minute and thought about what Caitlin might be worried about. “What time does your husband, Mitch, get home from work? I could come over then if that makes you feel more comfortable.”
“It would. He gets home at five-thirty. I put the children to bed by seven-thirty. Why don’t you come by at eight?”
“No problem. See you at eight.”
Jack fixed himself a bite to eat and then wrote a few questions on a piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget to ask Caitlin anything. It had been a while since he had done a police investigation. He turned to Toby. “I have to go out tonight, old boy. Police work. Can’t take you with me on this one but I’ll fill you in on the details when I get back.
Toby flattened his ears and walked away with his tail in the air.
~
Jack didn’t have a hard time finding Caitlin’s house. She lived in a townhouse complex at the north end of the city. He rang the doorbell and was greeted by a young man who looked to be around thirty. Jack flashed his badge.
“Come in, officer,” Mitch opened the door wider. “Have a seat in the living room; Caitlin will be right with us. Would you like coffee or something?”
“No thanks, I just finished my supper.” Jack looked around the room and noticed the pictures of three boys on the wall. “Real handful, I bet,” he smiled, pointing to the photos.
“That, sir, is an understatement.”
Jack pointed to a photo on the fireplace mantel. “Your wife, or Brianna?”
“Brianna.”
“She was a beautiful young woman.”
“Yep.”
A woman, whom Jack assumed was Caitlin, walked into the room. He stood and offered her his hand. “I’m Jack Nelson, the officer you spoke to earlier this evening.”
Caitlin sat down. She looked haggard. Jack didn’t think it was just from the three little rascals who kept her busy throughout the day. “What do you want to know about my sister?” she asked, melancholy threading her words.
Jack pulled out his notebook and flipped to the page where he had written his questions. “First, let me give you my condolences for the loss of your sister.”
Caitlin nodded.
“Did your sister know a Tyler Acton?”
“Not that she ever mentioned.”
“Did your sister have any illnesses that could have led up to her death?”
“Her name is Brianna.” Caitlin’s tone was taut. “And no, my sister was healthy––very healthy. Which is why it’s so strange she died when all she seemed to have that night was a touch of the flu.”
Jack’s ears perked up. “She had the flu?”
At this point, Mitch spoke up. “Yeah, Caitlin told me Brianna had started to feel queasy and had broken out into a sweat not too long after supper the night before she died. That would have been May 29th––a Friday night––my night out with the boys. The girls were going to watch a movie.”
“Get to the point, Mitch,” Caitlin said.
Jack intervened with another question. “What did you have for supper that night, Caitlin?”
“Macaroni casserole.”
“Any chicken in it?”
“No. The boys and I all ate the same meal … we didn’t get sick.” Caitlin wrung her hands together.
“Okay, so your sister––Brianna,” Jack corrected himself, “she went home after eating, stating she didn’t feel well, right? Did she call you at all that night?”
“No, she didn’t call until Saturday morning. She sounded absolutely terrible on the phone; I could barely hear her voice. Said she needed me to come and take her to the hospital. Brianna never asked for help with anything unless it was something severe.”
“She didn’t say what was wrong?”
“No. I had to call a sitter because Mitch was working. I ran into an accident en route to Brianna’s house and got caught in the traffic. By the time I arrived, Brianna was dead. I found her on the bathroom floor.”
“Did you notice anything strange in the apartment?”
Caitlin didn’t answer right away, so Mitch spoke up again. “The apartment was a mess. Caitlin said Brianna had thrown up in a few places and the inside of the toilet wasn’t too pretty either––a lot of blood.”
“Brianna’s clothing was sopping wet, too,” Caitlin added. I cleaned everything up before the ambulance came to take Brianna away.”
Jack was busy writing. From the sound of things, Brianna had similar symptoms to the others.
Mitch ventured another bit of information. “When I read in the paper about that mother wanting to get an autopsy for her son, I suggested to Caitlin we do the same for Brianna, but Caitlin wouldn’t hear of it. She just wanted to get her sister buried so she could be at peace. Do they know what killed the young man yet?”
“I don’t think the autopsy results are finalized. If the police do think there might be a connection here, once they have the results of Tyler’s autopsy, they are probably going to do the same with two other women who have also died from similar symptoms. They might ask you if we can exhume Brianna’s body.” Jack noticed Caitlin stiffen. “Only if necessary,” he added quickly, to allay her fears.
Jack stood. “I think I have what I need for now. I may need to call upon you again though. Once again, Caitlin, I am sorry for your loss.”
Mitch stood. “I’ll show you to the door.”
Jack was exhausted by the time he got home. Toby heard him come in and sat up, expecting a full rendition of what had taken place. Instead, Jack patted him on the head and walked into the kitchen.
“You aren’t going to get away that easy.” Toby followed Jack, running to the refrigerator and sitting in front of the door.
“Okay, Toby, I’ll tell you what went on; just let me grab a beer first.”
Toby stepped out of the way.
Jack filled Toby in on the fact that it looked like Brianna had died of the same symptoms as Tyler Acton, Emily Foster, and Lauren Dagnell. Brianna hadn’t made it to the hospital, and only her sister had seen the aftermath of what happened. Unfortunately Caitlin cleaned the mess up before anyone else got there. Her husband had suggested an autopsy, but Caitlin said no. She and her sister were close.” Jack stood and downed the rest of his beer. “I’m going to bed, Toby. It’s been a long day, and I have a feeling the days aren’t going to get any shorter for a while. It’s beginning to look as though there’s a lot more to these four deaths than meets the eyes. You comin’, old man?”
Toby followed Jack to the bedroom, and the two settled in for the night. Before he fell off to sleep, Toby’s mind rehashed the facts. “I’ll bet there’s a connection between Camden and all these deaths, which only started happening when he moved to town. But how? What’s the link? I need to find one. I’m going to have to do some more digging over there––
figure out what those seeds are that Camden is grinding up. Emma will know, but how do I get her to tell me? I’ll figure a way. How would Camden know all these people; he just moved here and he sticks pretty much to himself. This is pretty tough. Maybe I’m meowing up the wrong tree…” Toby finally fell asleep.
~
Camden was tired. He was not looking forward to the next couple of weeks. Everything had moved way too fast here in Brantford, faster than in any other place he had lived. There was no way he’d to be able to convince Emma they had to move so soon. And she was getting more observant of his moods; he was going to have to be more vigilant.
And now there was the issue of the autopsy and the fact Lauren had taken the emails to the police. No one had ever done that before. And her computer was there too. What if there was a slim chance his I.P. address could be traced?
Camden stepped out of his bedroom and looked at Emma’s closed door. Good, she was sleeping. He went quietly down the stairs and out to the three-season room. He walked over to the corner where the special plants were and gathered some more seeds. He figured if he picked a few at a time over the next couple of days, Emma wouldn’t notice. She didn’t like him tampering with her plants.
He returned to his room, put the seeds in a baggie and shoved it under his pillow. Then he stretched out on his bed. Sleep wouldn’t come. He reached under his bed and pulled out an old photo album. Most of the pictures were of him and Emma when they were little, then not until they were sixteen. The gap of about six years was when they were in foster care, years Camden wanted no memory of, yet years that still haunted him.
Camden turned the page to a picture of him, Emma, and their parents. He always thought his parents were only having the picture taken because that was what was expected. They weren’t even touching him and Emma, not like in other families’ photos he had seen where the parents had their arms around their children. His mother and father were distant in the image, just like in real life. And then, one day, they just weren’t there anymore, and he and Emma had been forced into foster care.
Camden slammed the book shut and put it back under the bed. He curled up under the covers in the fetal position, put his thumb in his mouth, and went to sleep.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
J
ack was up early. “You want to come down to the station with me, Toby?” he asked as he filled Toby’s food dish. Toby looked up at Jack and meowed. “Of course I want to come; what a dumb question.”
When they arrived at the station, they walked straight through to Bryce’s office. “Hey there, you look like a man who has some valuable information for me,” Bryce greeted them.
Jack sat down and Toby jumped up onto the desk. “Hello there, old man,” Bryce scratched behind Toby’s ears.
“Even he’s calling me an old man now––I’ll old man these two––well, I guess I can tolerate it since he’s scratching behind my ears.” Toby arched up, absorbing every stroke.
“I went to see the sister and brother-in-law of Brianna Gates last night,” Jack began. “Brianna was visiting her sister on the Friday night; shortly after supper she developed stomach cramps and felt feverish. The next morning she called her sister and asked her to come and take her to the hospital. By the time Caitlin arrived, Brianna was already dead.
“Now, here’s the thing: Caitlin said the apartment was a mess. There were several areas where Brianna had thrown up, and the sister said the inside of the toilet wasn’t too pretty either. Said her sister’s clothing was sopping wet. Unfortunately, Caitlin cleaned everything up before the ambulance arrived. I guess she was embarrassed for her sister; she mentioned Brianna was very tidy. She also said her sister must have been exceedingly sick because she barely ever asked for help.
“Caitlin’s husband, Mitch, mentioned he had suggested to his wife, after reading about Tyler in the paper, that maybe they should have Brianna’s body autopsied. Caitlin wouldn’t hear of it. I mentioned––if it was necessary––we might ask if we could exhume her body.”
“Good work, Jack.” Bryce reclined back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “With this information and with what the Emergency nurse told you, we are either dealing with a horrific flu or, worse yet––and this is between us at the moment––a possible serial killer. Too many coincidences. Lauren’s autopsy should be finished in a couple of days, and I’m going to call the coroner and see what is happening with Tyler’s.
“I hate to keep leaning on you, Jack, but I was wondering if you could contact the family of the third girl, Emily Foster. Explain what is going on and that we would like to autopsy her body.” He paused. “Do you think Caitlin will agree to let us exhume her sister?”
“I’m not sure if she will, but I think her husband will convince her it’s the right thing to do,” Jack answered. “I’ll give them a call later when I know he will be there.”
Bryce stood and extended his hand to Jack. “I can’t thank you enough for helping out here.” They started to walk to the door.
Toby jumped down from the desk. “Hey guys, don’t forget me! Feed me the facts and I’ll get you the perpetrator. This afternoon I’m going to follow up on a couple of my own leads. I have a hunch who it might be, just need to connect the dots!”
“I’ll call you as soon as I have something solid on the two autopsies, or if our tech guy finds something on Lauren’s computer,” Bryce said as he opened the door for Jack and Toby. “See you later, Toby,” he reached down and patted Toby on the head.
“You bet. You work your leads; I’ll work mine!” Toby trotted out through the desks and was enthralled by the number of, “hey Toby”, and “how’s it goin’, Toby” that he got. “Boy, it’s great to be a celebrity!”
Jack had some stuff to look after during the afternoon, so Toby was free to do as he wanted. He decided to pay Emma a visit. He had to figure out a way to get her to talk about the plant Camden was so interested in. Toby headed over to Emma’s after Jack left. She was sitting in the backyard reading a book. Duke was lying beside her. As soon as Duke sensed Toby’s presence he stood and started barking. Emma looked over and noticed Toby pacing along the fence.
“Toby, hang on,” she called over. She got up from her chair and patted her leg. “Come on Duke, in the house.” Duke followed her, and she locked him in the kitchen. Toby snuck through the fence and was sitting in the three-season room when Emma turned around. “My you are a quick kitty for your age,” she giggled.
Toby could hear Duke whining through the closed door. He gazed admiringly at Emma. “Good to see you so happy.” Toby walked around amongst the plants until he came to the one Camden had picked the seeds from. He jumped up on a nearby stool and stretched his head out toward the leaves. He was just about to take a bite of one of the seeds when Emma hollered.
“No, Toby! You mustn’t eat that seed. It’s poison!”
“So that’s what it is! Poison. Why would Camden want poison and what was he doing with it? I wonder now, even more than before, if these mysterious deaths are tied to him. If so, how? What’s the connection?” Toby sat back on the chair, meowed, and stared at Emma.
As though Emma understood that Toby wanted to know more about the plant, she went into an explanation. “This is a castor bean plant from which they make castor oil. The oil is found in the seeds and has a lot of good uses, like lubricants for machinery and auto engines, paints’ inks, soaps’ waxes, cosmetics, candles, and crayons, just to name a few. I read in one place that they found evidence of its use in the Egyptian tombs where it was used for medicinal purposes as a purgative/laxative.
“However, if one takes too much of the oil it can result in poisoning. A lot of medical professionals feel the oil was dangerously used in a lot of folk remedies. There are some extremely toxic components of the castor beans, one of these being ricin, which is found in abundance in the seed and in smaller amounts in the rest of the plant. If you were to have chewed on that seed, you wou
ld have died, Toby. You must be careful and not eat any plant if you don’t know what it is.” Emma stroked Toby’s back, and he rounded up to absorb her love.
“Well now that I know it’s poison, I just have to figure out what Camden is doing with it.” Toby jumped down from the stool and went to the door.
“Leaving so soon, Toby?” Emma asked. “I guess maybe you need a rest after that scare; I’m sorry if I yelled at you. There you go, come again; I do enjoy your visits.”
Toby laid out on his back step taking in a little sun. He was worried about Emma. What if Camden was trying to poison her? He seemed devoted to his sister, but maybe he was becoming tired of looking after her; maybe he wanted a life of his own and the only way to have that was to get rid of her.
“I have to find out what he’s doing with that powder, so I’m going to have to find a way to watch him, not only at home, but at his workplace too!” Toby decided to take a jaunt to the gym and see what kind of windows they had on the building, ones accessible for an old cat like him.
~
Camden was having another rough day at work. His head was pounding, and one of the clients had been extremely ill-mannered to him that morning. It was not the first time this guy had been rude to him, and Camden already had him selected for his next victim. Camden had been emptying one of the garbage cans Graham had forgotten the night before; he accidently dropped the bag, and the papers spilled on the floor.
As he was picking them up, he heard a voice say: “What a klutz! How could the gym hire someone like that?” The guy laughed. He was working out beside another fellow, who just shrugged his shoulders and kept pumping iron.
Camden looked up and saw Owen Bains. A couple of days before, Owen had been laughing with Vincent while they pointed at him. When he’d asked Vincent later what it had been about, Vincent had just grinned and asked Camden what it mattered, it was no big deal. Owen was a fair-sized guy; Camden thought he would probably need a larger quantity of powder in Owen’s drink. Life was closing in and it was time to try and get things wrapped up. Tonight, he would send out the first email to Owen.
Are You Listening to Me? : A Detective Toby Mystery (9781927899403) Page 14