“Yes. Ms. Hunter here is a special consultant to VPD, and she has a few questions for you about those gala robberies.”
The constable turned to her. “Yes, ma’am,” he said respectfully. He was radiating tension.
“In almost ninety-five percent of the statements you took, you made a note that the victims in question seemed intoxicated.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dunway tensed and a look of anxiety crossed his features. “Is there a problem?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation, his eyes flicking to his Superintendent.
“No, of course not, Constable,” Diana replied with a ready smile. The man relaxed instantly. “I would just like a few more details. What made you think they were intoxicated?”
“Well, ma’am, some of them had trouble with their coordination, some were slurring their words, and one of them even threw up on my shoes,” he said, with disgust.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Constable.”
“It’s alright, ma’am. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Did any of them appear to have heightened color?” she asked.
“Ma’am?”
“Were any of them red in the face, Constable?” Donaldson asked impatiently.
“Yes, sir. As a matter of fact, they all seemed to be slightly redder in the cheeks than you’d expect.”
“Thank you, Constable. You’ve been extremely helpful.”
The man smiled shyly, “Glad I could help, ma’am.”
Donaldson rolled his eyes when the man kept standing there, staring at Diana. “You’re dismissed, Constable,” he said, abruptly.
The constable blushed and saluted before he made his way out of the room. “So, can you share your little theory with us now?” Donaldson asked.
“I wish we could run a tox screen on a few of the victims to confirm my suspicions, but it’s far too late for that.”
“What suspicions?” Donaldson snapped.
“Devil’s Breath,” Diana said.
“Devil’s what?” Ericson asked.
“Devil’s Breath is the colloquial name for scopolamine.”
Donaldson’s eyes widened. “You think they were all dosed with scopolamine?”
“It’s a distinct possibility. All the signs are there.”
“Excuse me,” Rutledge said, interrupting them, “but could you fill us in on what scopolamine is?”
Diana looked at them in surprise. She would have expected them to know. But, maybe not. The few cases she had heard of in which scopolamine had been used involved rape. The use of it in a robbery, especially robbery on a massive scale, probably made this case a first in Vancouver.
“Scopolamine, or Devil’s Breath as it is commonly known, is a drug that induces short-term amnesia. It also makes people highly suggestible. They’ll do whatever they’re told and won’t remember anything. It’s used extensively in Colombia in sexual assaults and thefts. People are drugged and assaulted or have their belongings stolen. Sometimes both. They don’t put up any resistance. Later they have no idea what happened.”
“So, you think our crew drugged everyone at these galas, got them to hand over their valuables and just walked out the door?” Rutledge was incredulous.
Diana shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. No one seems to remember precisely how or when their valuables disappeared. And, thanks to Constable Dunway’s diligence, we know that the victims appeared intoxicated, were nauseous, and had heightened color. These are all known side effects of being dosed with a higher than recommended amount of the drug.”
“Have you considered that maybe people were acting drunk because they were drunk? They were at a party, after all,” Ericson pointed out.
“True, but that’s a large number of people to be inebriated. Most of these people are pillars of society with reputations to match. They wait to get drunk away from the prying eyes of the media. These aren’t your regular Z-list celebrities. No, I’m quite certain that alcohol wasn’t the culprit for the behavior the constable witnessed. And don’t forget the memory loss. I’m convinced that’s why no one knows when they were robbed. It’s not because they didn’t see anything, but rather because they can’t remember what they saw. That wouldn’t be the result of alcohol.”
“It could be. Memory loss while drunk isn’t unusual,” Rutledge said.
“Sounds like experience talking,” Diana said.
“I had some pretty wild times in college,” he replied with a shrug. “And I can guarantee you that I’m still drawing a blank on some of those nights.”
“I can believe it. But after you slept off the effects, you realized there was a lapse in your memory, correct?”
“Right. Okay, I see your point. People didn’t actually report a memory loss. For them, it’s almost as if time skipped forward.”
“Exactly. Even if we were to assume it was alcohol, could almost two hundred people get so drunk that they all had blackouts at the same time? Or was it a deliberate attempt at ensuring that no one would remember what happened, certainly not that they’d handed over all their valuables without a single protest?”
“Okay, but if what you’re saying is true, then how did they manage to drug everyone at the same time and with the right dosage? I’m assuming you’d need a specific amount for the drug to work as intended, right?”
“Right, Detective Ericson, which means that we are going to have to talk to some of the victims again to figure out the delivery system. While Devil’s Breath can be put into drinks or food, it can also be blown into someone’s face in powdered form. It acts in minutes. The problem with that approach in this case is that someone would have noticed. And no one did. We’ll have to talk to at least some of the galas’ attendees again to see if we can learn more.”
“Diana’s correct. You need to go out and re-interview some of the guests with this information in mind. If this theory is correct, then we’ve got an even bigger problem on our hands than a few jewels missing from a few top cops.” Donaldson had started pacing the room.
“If scopolamine was used, they needed a large quantity of it to pull off something this big. I doubt they got it from a reputable source.”
“Can you get it from a reputable source? Rutledge asked. “Isn’t it illegal?”
“Scopolamine is a prescription drug used to treat common conditions like motion sickness and depression among others. But it has to be carefully managed or else the results are what we are suspecting here—suggestibility and memory loss.”
“We’re not hearing reports of it from other divisions —yet. But if scopolamine has hit the streets or will in the near future, we will end up with some major challenges landing on our desks,” Donaldson said, now agitatedly walking back and forth as he thought through the ramifications. “It could send the city into crisis.”
“Let’s not put the cart before the horse. Let’s first confirm it is scopolamine and then go from there,” Diana was purposefully calm. The temperature in the room was starting to heat up. She didn’t want to cause a huge uproar before they had clear proof that her theory was correct.
Donaldson turned to the two detectives, “I want you two to call in some of the guests from the Police Ball. It was the most recent hit by this crew, so people’s memories will be freshest. Stick to some of the more low-profile guests. The last thing I need is more chaos and having DCC Burton breathing down my neck.”
“Yes, sir,” both men said as they stood. Diana rose to her feet as well.
“Do you need anything else?” Donaldson said, turning to Diana.
“I’d like to speak to the crime scene unit as soon as that can be arranged.”
Donaldson nodded. “But they didn’t find anything,” Ericson intervened.
“Now that we know scopolamine may have been used, they could run some tests on whatever they collected to see if it’s present.”
“I doubt they collected any dishware or food and drink. No one suspected a mass drugging,” Rutledge said.
“I don
’t think they drugged the food or drinks. They would have needed everyone to ingest it at the same time to avoid the alarm being raised.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking they may have found a way to aerosolize it,” Diana said thoughtfully.
Donaldson gaped at her. “Are you joking? If someone’s found a way to distribute that drug through the air, it would be a disaster!”
“I know, but it’s the only viable explanation I can come up with. At least for now.”
“Rutledge,” Donaldson barked, “take Diana down to Tina, then you can get on the phone and get those people in here for interviewing. We need to find out what’s really going on.”
“Yes, sir. Right, Diana, let’s go.”
Diana didn’t take offense at Donaldson’s brusque tone. She was as worried as he was. If scopolamine had hit the streets of Vancouver and was being aerosolized, there was no telling what someone could do with it. In the hands of a person with a desire to exert power and spread terror, it was the perfect, most devastating weapon.
As she followed Rutledge through the building, something nagged at her. Why go to all this trouble to steal? If they could come up with and execute a complex plan such as these gala jewelry heists, they could probably pull off some even bigger scores.
Suddenly, she was pulled out of her thoughts when someone grabbed her roughly by the arm.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Rutledge barked, stepping in threateningly. “Let her go!”
Diana looked up into the ice blue eyes of one very irritated but still highly attractive homicide detective. Peter Hopkinson was not happy to see her.
CHAPTER 3
“WHAT THE HELL are you doing here?” When he had first spotted her, Peter thought he was hallucinating. There was absolutely no way Diana Hunter, magazine editor and pain-in-his-ass extraordinaire, was wandering around the Major Crimes floor of the Vancouver Police Department. There was no way she was wandering around his floor, accompanied by Rutledge of all people. It couldn’t be true. But it was.
When the Super had first broached the idea of Diana working with them, Peter made it clear that he would not work with her again, no matter who she called or what cases she had gotten herself working on. The one time he had been foolish enough to involve her in a case, she had been kidnapped. He had found her strapped to a table about to become the next victim. That was all he needed to know about working with Ms. Diana Hunter.
Within VPD, there had been arguments about her experience. CSIS skills were valuable. Peter hadn’t been able to uncover information on precisely what she had done for the service, but he thought it likely that she had been nothing more than an analyst; someone who sat behind a desk and provided support and intelligence to field agents. That was it. There was no way she had been out in the field. So, her CSIS experience meant diddly squat. It was one thing to sit at a desk in the safety of the CSIS building and direct others. It was something entirely different to be out in the field, in the line of fire, where one mistake could cost someone their life. He would not make the same mistake again.
Peter had obviously taken Diana by surprise because she didn’t say anything for a moment. She stared at him wide-eyed. And then he saw the precise moment when the situation caught up with her. Her eyes narrowed, and he swore that her lips curled back, baring her teeth, much like her dog, Max, had done when they first met.
“Get your hand off of me,” she said slowly, emphasizing each word as if he were an idiot. Clearly, the woman was still a menace.
“I asked you a question,” he growled. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s none of your business,” she snapped. “Now, you either get your hand off me, or I will shove it—“
“Now, now, children, let’s play nice,” Rutledge intervened again.
Peter glared at him. No one got between him and Diana. No one. “Back off,” he warned Rutledge.
“Dude, chill,” the other detective replied. “The Super asked her to come in and help us out.”
“Us?” Peter snapped. Diana was standing as still as a statue. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She was working out a strategy to defeat him once and for all, no doubt. Good. Let her try. He would drag her out of there if he had to.
And then Rutledge’s words began to sink in. The superintendent had called her? What the hell? The last time he spoke to Donaldson about her, the man was adamant that no civvie would ever be allowed to roam the halls of Investigative Services, and especially not the Major Crimes Division. Donaldson was as against the idea of Diana working with them as he was.
“Yeah, man, she’s here to help Ericson and me on that robbery case.”
“Why?” Peter demanded. Couldn’t the two morons do their jobs? Why did they have to involve a civilian? The last thing he wanted was to get a call that Diana had been hurt, or worse, because of these two bozos.
“Look, it doesn’t matter why. Just let her go. This is the 21st century, man. You’re acting like a Neanderthal, for God’s sake.” Rutledge was getting irritated.
Diana turned to Rutledge and actually smiled at him. She smiled at Rutledge. “It’s okay, Scott, I’m sure Detective Hopkinson was just about to apologize,” she said. She turned to glare at him. So, it was Scott, was it? Not Detective Rutledge, but Scott. Why that irritated him even more, he didn’t know. And it made every last shred of common sense disappear.
“No, I wasn’t. You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” he snarled.
She rolled her eyes and yanked her arm out of his grip. “You obviously have some sort of mental deficiency. I’m pretty sure Scott was quite clear on why I’m here. So, now if you’d be kind enough to move out of my way, I’ll be getting on with what I need to be getting on with. And if you have any more questions, I suggest you go ask your superintendent.”
“I made it clear that I wouldn’t work with you,” he persisted. He knew he sounded stupid, but he still couldn’t understand why Donaldson would do a one-eighty like this.
“Well, good for you. Seems not everyone agrees with your assessment of my skills,” she said sweetly. She sidestepped and walked around him. “Oh, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not working with you.” She threw the words at him over her shoulder. “Come on, Scott, we’ve got work to do.”
Rutledge followed her like a puppy. The fact that the younger detective turned around after a few steps, giving him a triumphant grin only made Peter angrier. Instead of following them, as every cell in his body was screaming at him to do, he turned and marched straight into Donaldson’s office.
“Sir, can I have a word?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. What he really wanted to do was storm into the older man’s office and ask him if he had gone off the deep end.
Donaldson glanced up from what he was studying to look at him. “What is it, Hopkinson?”
“I thought we’d agreed that involving Diana Hunter in any other cases was a bad idea.”
The superintendent looked at him deadpan. “You do remember that she got herself assigned as a consultant to this department, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, but just because she has connections doesn’t mean that she won’t do more harm than good.” Peter knew he was grasping at straws. But he was frantic. He took responsibility for involving her in the case they worked together, and if he had not gone to her for advice, this would not be happening. He had to stop her.
“Hopkinson, I’m only going to say this once, so you had better listen closely. Diana Hunter is here to stay. I’ve read into her background, and I believe that she will make a contribution to this division.” He quickly raised a hand when Peter opened his mouth to argue. “All I’m at liberty to say is that she can handle herself in any situation. Now, this conversation is over. I suggest you find something better to do. Don’t you have any open cases?”
Donaldson knew full well that Peter did not. He had just wrapped up his last case the day before, and no one had been m
urdered in the meantime. Detective Peter Hopkinson was free as a bird.
“No, sir, I don’t. Seeing as I have nothing on, maybe you could use an extra pair of eyes on those gala robberies?” If he could not get her out of there, then he would keep an eye on her himself.
Donaldson eyed him critically. “Are you sure you can work with her?” he asked.
“Of course, sir. Why wouldn’t I?” He tried to look innocent.
“The two of you weren’t exactly quiet out there. I was expecting her to tear your throat out at any moment.”
“I’ll behave, I promise,” Peter said, doing his best to appear contrite. He was going to kill her. He really was. Now his boss was deciding whether to put him on a case based on how well he could work with her.
“You better. Let me make this abundantly clear. This missing jewels case is a huge problem for us. I need her more than I need you at this particular juncture, so if you antagonize her in any way, or if I hear you got in her face at any point, you’ll be directing traffic for the next month. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir!”
Donaldson eyed him warningly. “Fine. Go find Ericson and get him to brief you. You need to cool down. You know, just in case you can’t control your temper around her.” The raised eyebrow and the challenging look Donaldson gave him made Peter take a deep breath. A tempest of competing emotions was running through his body. He should have dealt with Diana differently. Maybe like a civil human being. But she just brought out the worst in him! He clenched his jaw, bit down his anger, and walked out of Donaldson’s office to get briefed.
Diana was trailing behind Scott, paying little attention to where she was going. She was too angry with Hopkinson. “Ignorant fool. Who does he think he is? ‘I made it clear I wouldn’t work with you,’” she muttered under her breath, parroting his earlier words. “Last I checked, he didn’t own VPD. Does he think he’s the only detective in Vancouver? And who gave him any rights over me? The man is such a pin head.”
She didn’t realize Scott had stopped walking. She crashed right into his back.
Stolen (A Diana Hunter Mystery Book 3) Page 3