“It could have. We’re considering everything that contributed to his death, including excessive force during the choke hold.” Nolan shut the thick folder with a snap.
They were back to the choke hold, then…
She kept her voice in check, in control. “The coroner told us additional restraint was necessary…because of the excited delirium.”
“So, you’ve talked to the medical officer, Mrs. Marsh?”
She didn’t trust herself to say anything more and gazed down at her hands. Nolan tapped his index finger on the table next to her, and she glanced up.
“We’ve learned you were the subject of another investigation, one concerning your late husbands.”
“They both met with unfortunate accidents. No one was charged in either death.” She folded her lips into a tight line, tried to erase any fear that showed on her face, and forced herself to breathe as normally as possible. Craig had fallen to his death off a cruise ship while they were on their twenty-fifth anniversary, and Hugh had died right here in Ireland. Nolan surveyed her as she wiggled in her seat. She added, “I know what. Check the surveillance cameras. You can see who else went into Alsander’s room. Have you done that?”
“What surveillance cameras?” He shuffled his feet, and his aftershave gave off a strong, clean scent.
She fanned her fingers out against her breastbone. “Don’t they have security cameras here?”
“Of course not. This is an old castle.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Her face fell. “Well, shoot. They have modern key cards and Wi-Fi and all, so I thought they’d updated other things, too. Darn it. Cameras would’ve helped.” She bit her lower lip, but couldn’t come up with any more ideas.
He inclined his head with the stiff, blue cap on top, then yanked his head in the direction of the door. “You may return to the dining hall now.”
She was glad to escape. Once she was back with the others, a guard asked Sean Smithwicket to accompany him to the library. Fiona glared at Sean’s stout form as he followed the guard out the door. Two other guards remained in the corridor outside, leaning against the doorframe with their backs to the room. Griff, Mairéid, and Fiona were hunkered in their chairs with their arms folded across their chests. The guards didn’t appear to be paying them any attention.
Jane claimed the chair next to Griff where she’d left her purse behind. Tugging the zipper shut, she said in a quiet voice, “Nolan told me amphetamine was in Alsander’s pill bottle.” The three didn’t move. Fiona even stopped chomping on her gum, her jaws motionless.
Jane stared hard at Mairéid until she said, “We heard that, too.” Mairéid’s tone was so scorching, Jane wondered if she’d been blistered by her words.
As none of them showed any surprise, Jane realized she was the last to be told. “How long did you guys know this?” Mairéid and Griff wouldn’t meet her eyes. “How in the world did Alsander get amphetamines?”
Fiona’s eyes were bright, but she spoke under her breath. “Sean’s fingerprints were found on Alsander’s prescription bottle, his and Mairéid’s.”
“Griff’s, too.” His cousin shot him a filthy look, one giving every appearance of longstanding hatred and loathing.
Griff ignored it. “Yeah, well, I helped Uncle with his medications, so of course I handled the bottle.” He turned to Jane and said in a flat, accusatory tone, “Mairéid’s the one who picked up Uncle’s last prescription from the chemist.”
“So what? I’m here all the time helping out.” Mairéid swirled a hand in the air in front of her face, a witch conjuring a spell. “I’m going to take over the management of this place.”
“You’re off your nut,” Griff breathed out in a hiss.
“Wait. Hold it.” Jane flicked a look toward the officers, but their faces were aimed the other way. “Can’t you two stop arguing for a minute?” This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Trying to give off calming vibes, she pointed at the cousins. “Yours are explained, but does anyone know how Sean’s prints could’ve gotten on the bottle?”
“He was with me when I picked up Da’s prescription.” Mairéid was staring with venom at Jane, so likely she didn’t notice Fiona’s furious look and clenched lips.
Jane sat forward. “All right then. There are logical explanations for the three of you. Were anyone else’s prints found?”
“The guards didn’t say.” Mairéid cocked her head to the side, interested.
“We not only have to figure out how amphetamines got into his pill bottle, but where the drugs came from in the first place.” Jane looked them each in the eye. “Anyone have any ideas?” When all three shook their heads, she asked, “Who else had access to his medication?”
Tucking a wad of gum in one cheek, the young receptionist said, “I tole’ the guards how all a’ you were up to your shenanigans in that club of yours, running in and out of each other’s rooms. And someone asked for Alsander’s key.”
“Who asked for his key?” Griff stared hard at Fiona. Not only his arms were crossed, but his ankles were, too.
“I did, but it was by accident.” Jane lowered her voice further, glancing again at the policemen outside the door, then at Griff. She did a double take, since Griff’s jaw had dropped open. She explained, “You see, I thought the Ladners had room seven.”
“They’re in six.” Mairéid dismissed Jane’s mistake with a slow blink followed by a roll of her eyes.
“Well, I thought theirs was seven. But when I saw Alsander in the bed I realized right away I had the wrong room and left.” Jane took yet another peek at the guards, hoping that the prurient-minded Nolan stayed well away.
“Why’d you want in Doug’s room, Jane?” Griffin’s blue eyes held a touch of a green glimmer.
“I was going to put a plastic spider in their sink, you know, to prank them.” Jane gave him a wide-eyed, palms-up, innocent look.
“But you kept Alsander’s key all night.” Fiona bit down hard on her gum. A loud pop and a sweet sugary smell exploded in the air. “It only showed up the next morning after I left to get a cup a’ tea.”
Their heads swiveled back toward Jane. She was fed up with being embarrassed about it. “Cheryl and Bruce caught me in the hallway. I didn’t want anyone to know I was pulling pranks. I didn’t want them to see me returning the key.”
Griff dropped his voice. “What was Bruce doing outside Uncle’s room?”
“Nothing whatsoever. He and Cheryl were headed to their own room across the hall.” Jane turned to Fiona. “I put Alsander’s key back on your desk the next morning.”
Griff relaxed in his chair. He said, “Ah, a simple explanation.”
“The police did ask me if I saw his medications when I was in his room.” Jane examined the two women across the table, trying to gauge their reactions.
Fiona had high spots of color on her cheeks, powerful with knowledge. “They asked me the same thing. And I told ’em one o’ you asked for his key, but I didn’t know whicha’ you it was.” She snapped her gum with a loud smack and chucked one of her long, blonde dreadlocks over her shoulder.
“You’re such a squealer, Fiona.” Griff’s voice had risen. He glanced toward the door, but the guards still had their backs to them.
“That’s thick, Griff. Fiona did the right thing, telling them. And Jane, you were in his room with his tablets.” Mairéid had pointed her finger first at her cousin, then at Jane. Her voice had a suspicious undertone, as if she, of course, had nothing to worry about. Just like most folks felt, it was always someone else’s fault.
“The police obviously didn’t find my fingerprints, though, did they?” Jane let out a snort of disbelief.
Fiona said in a stage whisper, “At first I couldn’t remember who asked for ’is key. I thought maybe it was Olivia, but then I remembered she asked for Jane’s key ta’ put the fake snake in ’er room.”
Just then rowdy voices rang through the lobby. After a moment, the dinner club members burst into the dining h
all. “The police are back,” Cheryl stated the obvious. “They told us to wait here.”
Griff informed the newcomers, “We’ve all been questioned already. They’re interrogating the owner of the coffee shop now.”
Jane added, “Sean Smithwicket.”
“That’s interesting.” Cheryl flashed Jane a conspiratorial look, one that a best friend understood without words.
“There’s news.” Jane pushed out a chair with her foot for someone to take. She was dying to discuss the new development with her friends away from the others, but blurted out, “Nolan told us what was wrong with Alsander’s tox screen. Amphetamine was found in his system.” She paused for their reactions. Her friends fixed their eyes on her, their mouths agape, in various degrees of surprise. She continued in a wired, high-strung voice. “Someone slipped pills containing amphetamine into his prescription bottle.”
“That explains a few things.” Bruce collapsed onto the pushed-out seat next to Jane, as if exhausted from running in a relay race and just passing off the baton. Doug and his wife scraped back chairs and took seats, while Cheryl parked herself on the other side of Bruce.
“Explains things? What?” Mairéid ran her long, red fingernails through her tangled, black hair.
“Alsander’s violent behavior. His strength. Amphetamines can do that.” Bruce frowned so deep, Jane was reminded of a Persian cat with a flat, grumpy face wearing glasses. She probably had on a serious look of her own as she thought back to what she’d learned about the signs of excited delirium.
“It can do that?” Mairéid tossed her hair over her shoulder, in a similar way as Fiona had done.
“Yes, it most definitely can.” Doug tugged on his red mustache.
“So, the police think someone put the amphetamine in with his prescription…” Bruce’s eyes were sharp behind his glasses. “Did they say how it happened?”
Fiona snapped her gum, drawing everyone’s attention. “The drugs was mixed in with his regular tablets in the bottle next to his bed. An’ we were just talkin’ ’bout who had the key to Alsander’s room.”
Doug, his policeman’s instincts aroused, asked, “Who had his key?”
Jane had to go over the whole thing again. “I already told them I got his key by mistake. I thought it was yours when I was going to prank you.” She reached over to tap Olivia’s arm. “So, you’re the one who put the plastic snake in my room.”
“Did Fiona rat me out?” Olivia laughed in spite of the tension in the air.
Fiona sniffed, drawing in a quick breath. “I guessed it was you, but I couldn’t remember who ’twas for sure. You American’s all have the same hairdo. I can’t tell ya apart.”
Jane clucked her tongue. “My hair’s brown and Olivia’s is black.”
“But the same style, that shoulder-length bob.”
“I’ll have you know I get my hair cut at Jasmine’s Salon in Cherry Creek.” Olivia gave the receptionist a quelling look.
“In future, Fiona, you are not to give out room keys to anyone but the correct guest.” Griffin spoke through his clenched jaw. He perched on the edge of his chair opposite his cousin, who sat tall in her seat with her hands fisted. Their resemblance was only in their height and posture, though—Mairéid with her wild dark looks and arching eyebrows and Griff with his shaggy blond hair and blue eyes.
Just then the guards returned. “Good. You’re here.” Nolan’s eyes were vivid and his voice forceful; he held the power in the room.
“Do you have questions for us?” Bruce’s voice was polite in spite of the officer’s superior attitude.
“I do.” Nolan directed his question to Bruce. “Did you bring amphetamine tablets from the U.S., where the drug is legal, to Ireland, where it is illegal, and give them to your cousin to add to Mr. O’Doherty’s prescription?”
The corners of Bruce’s mouth drew back in a cartoon grimace. “Of course not. And, I’m not sure you are correct that it’s legal in the States.”
Jane wished he looked more respectable, instead of silly in those ridiculous plaid golf knickers, calf-high argyle socks, and a flat, tweed cap. Cheryl was once again dressed to the nines in an adorable skort and pristine golf shoes. Olivia was decked out in a lavender golf outfit with matching lavender shoes. Only Doug appeared as if he was wearing normal street clothes, a golf shirt tucked into slacks.
“It’s a legal prescription in tablet form in the States. And Mr. O’Doherty’s prescription wasn’t picked up until about an hour after you checked in at the castle. Did you run over to see your cousin?”
“No, I did not.” Bruce’s face was fixed in a scowl.
Yikes. There was a window of opportunity for Bruce to nip over to Ryan’s. While she and Dale were unpacking in their rooms, Doug had taken a nap and Olivia and Cheryl had stepped down the street for postcards. Bruce was alone, presumably without an alibi.
Nolan changed tactics. “When you were working as a police officer you were investigated for using excessive force, causing death to a person in police custody, were you not?”
Cheryl’s entire face blanched, even her lips turned a stark white. Jane strained to take a deep breath.
Bruce’s voice was tense, heavy and halting, as if he was holding back his temper. “Everyone in the department was investigated after a prisoner died while taken into custody. It was unfortunate, but no one used excessive force. The department was absolved of any responsibility.”
Nolan consulted his clipboard. “I’d like to read a few statements you made on an internet site. ‘Crime needs to be punished, but the hands of the police are tied’ and ‘citizens have the right to enact justice.’ Did you make those statements?”
Bruce shot back, “I may have made statements similar to those.”
“Do you believe in taking matters into your own hands?” Nolan returned the quick volley.
“I believe citizens have rights, but they need to stay within the confines of the law.”
“I believe you’re a frustrated ex-cop who thinks he’s above the law.”
“You can think what you’d like. I didn’t choke Alsander O’Doherty. I was not the one who had him in a choke hold. I was helping to control him, yes, but I had nothing to do with his death.” Bruce glared at Nolan, then shot Griffin a stern look out of the corner of his eye, as if waiting for Griff to speak up. He did not.
Nolan flipped pages back and forth on his clipboard, then tucked the board under his arm. “Mr. Breewood, you’ve made some thoughtless statements, like a vigilante, and it appears you are bitter about the profession you left, because you were accused of taking matters into your own hands instead of following police procedure. Did you feel above the law? Did you help your cousin by supplying him with illegal drugs?”
Bruce rubbed his brow. “If you continue this line of questioning I’m calling the American Embassy.”
Cheryl jumped to her feet. “We’re leaving.”
Bruce’s hands fell to the tabletop and he pushed his chair back. “Yes, we’re out of here.” He grabbed his wife’s arm and they hustled out the door. The guards did not stop them.
Doug said, “I’m going to talk to Bruce.”
“And I’m going with you.” Olivia matched Doug’s steps as they raced after the Breewoods.
Nolan said after the fact, “We’re done with our questioning.”
The rapid fire exchange happened so fast, Jane’s head was spinning. She made to run after her friends, but Griff stopped her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Actually, she was in shock. “I need to find out about the others.”
“Let’s talk later, then.”
“All right. See you in a bit.” She dashed to the Breewoods’ room.
Cheryl had a cellphone squished to her ear, as Bruce paced between the window and the clothes cupboard and the Ladners stood side-by-side with their arms crossed. Cheryl disconnected and tossed the phone onto the bed. “We can change our tickets and catch the ferry out tonight. There’s plenty of room. It’
s a three and half hour drive from Limerick to Belfast, but we can make it to the ferry in time. The last one doesn’t leave until around midnight.” She began to throw clothes into her open suitcase.
Olivia said, “All right then. We’ll start packing, too.” The Ladners scurried out the door.
“What? You guys are leaving?” Jane’s heart sank to her stomach and rested there like a hard lump. “But, we aren’t supposed to leave for Scotland for another three days.”
Cheryl gave her an incredulous stare. “Aw, come on, Jane. It’s time to get out of here, salvage what’s left of the trip, and move on.”
Bruce wrenched his clothes off the hangers in the wardrobe. “You have to admit Ireland’s a bust. The Ladners have no problem leaving early. Why do you?”
“I want to find out what really happened to Alsander.” Jane clasped her head with both hands, her fingers stabbed into her hair. It was officially murder now. Nolan said it was homicide. She’d only recently discovered information about the book, the drugs, the motives…the murder needed to be solved, right? She squared her shoulders. “I’m staying.”
Bruce’s mouth fell open, and Cheryl froze with her hands in her overstuffed carry-on bag. She looked at her husband. “We can’t leave if Jane’s not coming.”
He shoved empty hangers together, tangling them. “You have to come with us, Jane. Don’t stay to investigate on my account.”
“It’s not just you, Bruce, I’m a suspect, too. They think I went into Alsander’s room to slip him drugs.”
“Right. And they’ve built a bigger case against me. I brought the amphetamines from home and gave them to Ryan, who put them in Alsander’s pill bottle. Oh, and I choked Alsander to death. All to help my cousin.”
“A ridiculous theory.” Jane’s throat tightened.
Bruce’s lips were pale, in a straight line. “They’re saying I used too much force, and I don’t care much for that.”
“No one could believe that of you.”
“Thanks, Jane, but when added together, it’s somehow a viable theory to the police.” He shook his head in a way that left no doubt he found it all too incredible.
A Stewed Observation Page 14