by Valley Sams
“These bottles- that’s exactly what was in that bag. She must’ve planted them at Samuel’s place after poisoning Benson.”
The bottles were out of the bag and on the desk beside her. Louis had taken them out with a gloved hand and given them a closer look as soon as she had handed them to him. He had carefully opened them and wafted their scents under his nose, recoiling as a familiar scent assaulted him.
“Here…” he had said, beckoning her closer. “Don’t breathe it in directly, but give it a try.”
Unsure what to expect, Mac had gingerly sniffed as Louis’ wafted the scent under her nose.
“Almonds.” She said, the unmistakable odor strong even with the careful distance she had been sure to maintain. Louis nodded.
“Cyanide. It’s hard to miss. Now this one…”
He had held another vial at a distance even farther from Mac. Rather than a liquid like the others, this vial had a few white crystals remaining at the curved bottom.
He had wafted his long fingered hand over the open vial again, watching Mac’s face carefully for a reaction. She looked up at him; her grey eyes almost black in dark little room.
“I don’t smell a thing.”
“That’s because strychnine’s odor is so subtle that only dogs and those with highly developed senses can detect it.” Those dark eyes of hers had widened and her mouth dropped open slightly in shock. Or triumph…
“I knew it. But…how can you tell just by looking at it.”
Louis shrugged.
“I worked a case a while back where an entire London neighborhood was exposed to the stuff. It took us weeks to find who was doing it, but I spent so much time around poisons trying to figure it out….” He tapped his forehead. “I’ve got them all catalogued up here.”
“So, it’s important?” Mac asked, eagerness straining in her every muscle.
“Absolutely. You did very well, indeed.” He had patted her head like she should’ve been working in the K9 unit, a sarcastic smile on his face. “I’ll see if we can clear out the back room at the station and make you an office. We might as well…get you on salary. You’ve helped out enough.”
Mac had told him she would be happy with a kiss.
Now, she was nimbly maneuvering the security cam footage through the last twenty-four hours, her sensitive fingertips barely touching the tracking pad.
They watched in silence as cars and pedestrians moved backwards across the screen.
Finally, when the clock at the top of the window read 12:37, she recognized herself leaving MoonPhase, a preoccupied look on her face.
“Ok…almost there…” Mac mumbled. She continued the delicate job of rewinding, holding her breath the entire time.
Approximately half an hour before Mac entered the shop for the first time, Cheryl’s hunched frame appeared from the right hand side of the screen. She stood in front of her destroyed shop for some time before entering. Her entire body appeared to stiffen with what could only be shock.
Still further back Mac went, the two of them glued to the screen.
“There!” Louis said, his voice loud with excitement. “Pause it.”
What seemed to be four young men, hoodies pulled over their heads and pipes in their hands appeared on the screen. One of them looked nervously in both directions while the others set about kicking the door open and smashing the windows. Mac quickly pressed the pause button and they froze in mid action, glass, wood and various trinkets hanging suspended in the air like constellations.
Louis leaned forward, his thigh momentarily brushing against Mac’s. Her mind went blank once again, something that she was certainly not used to. There, in the dimly lit room that smelled so thickly of cocoa and imported vanilla, it was all she could do to stop from launching herself at him. He loves me. Me.
Get it together Mac, she reprimanded herself silently. Pull it together and make all your snooping worth it….
“Can you zoom in?” he asked, resting his head in his hands, practically burning holes into the screen with the intensity of his stare.
Mac pressed the corresponding buttons and the faces of all four men suddenly filled the screen. Even though their hoodies covered the majority of their faces in shadow, it was still possible to get a clear look at the hooligans.
“Ha,” Louis said, more to himself than Mac.
“Who are they?” she asked. They were younger than she expected - so young that it was doubtful that they were even out of high school.
“Local punks. All four of them have records.” He pointed at the tallest of the group; “I had that one in my office only last week. I suppose I’ll be having him back in short order, now.”
“Brenda needs to get in there, too….” Mac mumbled. “I wish one of those punks were her, then at least we would have what we needed to charge her for something.”
Mac rubbed her eyes, feeling frustrated that the only thing they had to go on was some vials no one saw her use and a few seconds of footage of her leaving the shop.
“Wait a minute.” Louis had taken over the rewinding duties, and although he had looked just as disappointed as Mac, now he was back to leaning toward the screen breathlessly. “Who is this?” he asked.
“Oh my god,” Mac said, her heart beat halting suddenly in her chest. “Zoom in.”
Not even a half a second later, Samuel Campbell’s unmistakable face filled the laptop screen.
“It’s him….” Mac gasped. “My god, it’s Campbell.”
“Look at the time. 8 am.” Louis said. “That’s two hours before the judging began.”
Mac couldn’t help herself. She pushed Louis’ fingers out of the way and, still in close zoom, moved the image down to examine what Samuel had tucked under his arm.
“A paper bag…” She whispered. Stapled to the bag was clearly one of Cheryl’s pink cash receipts. She didn’t need to see what it said; it was clear now what he had purchased. Still, she breathlessly zoomed in even farther. “S and C,” she whispered.
“Strychnine and cyanide,” Louis said, now whispering as well. “Looks like we finally have some hard evidence.”
“Just not for the right person.” Mac couldn’t help but feel more than a little annoyed with herself.
“I’d say the person was just right,” Louis said. “I think we’ve found our murderer.”
He turned to Mac who was staring numbly at the screen. A devious smile was beginning to creep over his face.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any spare chocolates hanging about, would you?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When Samuel walked into the brightly lit interrogation room, he looked like a completely different person from the mild, gentlemanly introvert she had initially met.
Rather than his familiar bland expression, his face was now twisted even further by annoyance. It made him seem suddenly monstrous – a brittle, warped old man instead of the kind hearted victim he had seemed like only a few hours ago.
He seemed startled to see Mac and Brie in the room. He looked from them to the detective and then back to Sheriff Mike who stood beside the thick steel door, his arms crossed over his chest. Samuel looked nervously down at the revolver tucked securely in the Sheriff’s holster.
“I don’t know why I am here again,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and holding it to his nose. “And I certainly don’t know what these two are doing here.”
Louis stood up and motioned at the hard backed chair directly across from him. “Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll try to figure that out together,” he said without a trace of levity.
“I’d rather not,” Samuel said. “I have a flight to catch and I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”
“We’ll try not to keep you,” Louis said. “We simply wanted to interview the three of you together, being key witnesses and suspects like you are.”
“Indeed,” Samuel said, glaring at Brie. He sighed and slid into the seat, the handkerchief still p
ressed to his nose.
“This doesn’t have to be unpleasant,” Louis continued. “I even had Ms. Mackenzie bring us some refreshments from her shop to make this process a bit more civilized.”
As if on cue, Mac pulled a pretty paper box from her bag. It shone bright red and gold in the harsh fluorescent light. She placed it before Samuel who seemed calmed by its bold chinoiserie pattern.
“Well….” he sighed, placing his handkerchief on the table. “I appreciate the effort. It has certainly been a long day.” He calmed and began to open the box with his twitching fingers.
Inside laid the chocolates that Louis had asked Mac to bring. They were some of Brie’s finest…four perfectly spherical, deep brown chocolates, each one dusted with the smallest trace of smoked Himalayan pink salt. Samuel’s face lit up.
“I’m afraid I can’t resist…they look so tempting.”
Louis looked over Mr. Campbell’s shoulder and with the slightest nod, sent the Sheriff into action. In a few noiseless steps he was behind Samuel with the vial of strychnine, uncorked, in the palm of his hand.
Oblivious, his eyes closed as he prepared to inhale Brie’s chocolates deeply. He brought the box to his nose just as the Sheriff slipped the vial of poison in its place.
Immediately Samuel’s eyes flew open. He stood up, almost knocking both his chair and the Sheriff backwards.
“Murderers,” he yelped, his face pale with disgust. “All of you. Giving me poisoned chocolates? What kind of animals are you?”
“Oh the chocolates are fine, Mr. Campbell,” Brie spoke for the first time, crossing her thin arms over her chest. Her voice was low and it shook with anger. “I made them myself. I can assure you that there isn’t a trace of poison in them.”
“Lies!” Samuel was shouting now. He flung the box across the room at Brie, sending its contents flying out and onto the floor where they rolled to a stop. “I know perfectly well what strychnine smells like. You can’t trick me, you hack.”
It was Mac’s turn to cross her arms. It was uncomfortable seeing this man who had been so very composed and careful before suddenly transform into a rolling eyed madman right before her eyes. How could she have judged his character so incorrectly?
“And how would you know what strychnine smells like, Mr. Campbell?” she asked.
He became even more flustered and two bright spots of red began to burn on his otherwise colorless cheeks.
“I…. I have an excellent sense of smell; I’ve told you this already. In fact, I’ve told both of you this…multiple times. What is the meaning of this?” He turned his rage onto Louis. “What kind of backwoods operation are you running anyway? I have rights and trust me, you’ve violated enough of them for one day.”
Louis nodded again at the Sheriff, his face expressionless.
Samuel jumped as Mike moved to his side once again. He held the vial out to him, still in the center of his palm.
“Does this look familiar?” the sheriff asked. Unlike the others, he was smiling, deeply amused as the older man gasped and looked as if he was about to pass out.
“Where did you get this?” he said, reaching out to steady himself on the chair he had knocked askew. “How…did…”
“You might want to rethink who you trust with your garbage duties.” Mac said, joining the sheriff in a triumphant smile.
“How dare you. This is an invasion of my privacy. This is a mockery of the entire system. How dare you go through my things; I’ll have all of your badges…” he fumed. Spittle was forming at the sides of his mouth, making him look more like a rabid zombie than the gentleman of leisure he pretended to be.
“I don’t foresee that happening any time soon. Mike?” He motioned at the sheriff who produced a second vial and a report. He handed it to Louis who, fixing Samuel in his intimidating gaze, slid it across the table for him to examine.
“Cyanide and strychnine - The exact same chemicals found flooded throughout Benson’s system. Administered from these little vials by your goodly self, Mr. Campbell.”
“Nonsense.” A trickle of sweat was running down his cheek but he was obviously too horrified to notice, let alone wipe it off with his characteristic fussiness. “Absolute nonsense. You have no proof that those are even mine. How do you know they weren’t planted there by this….” he gestured wildly at Mac, “girl?”
“Or Brenda?” Mac asked. “What about her? You did an excellent job convincing me that she had threatened you, that it was a failed love affair, that she was a murderous gold-digger…”
“She is!” Samuel spat again, his spittle landing like raindrops on the table before him. “She’s the one to blame, not me.”
“Mr. Campbell.” Louis said calmly, “We have you leaving MoonPhase Remedies shop with a package and receipt for the poisons on tape. Your fingerprints are all over the vials. We even have your fingerprints on the chocolate that killed Benson. Not to mention the glass that he drank the beer from before judging began.” Samuel’s knees buckled beneath him and he fell into his seat, gasping.
“Why don’t you do yourself a favor and clear your conscience.”
Sheriff Mike put his heavy hand on Samuel’s shoulder and he winced.
This was enough to push Samuel into near hysterics. His eyes became even wider and he began to tremble with repressed sobs.
“I’m not sorry,” he said, his voice becoming weepy. “Isn’t that strange? I’m not sorry about it at all.”
Brie shrugged, leaning against the wall in the same t-shirt she had slid on two days ago.
“In my experience most murderers aren’t.”
“Oh my goodness. I am, aren’t I…. a murderer.” He was silent for a second, as if sniffing the word and rolling its scent around his pallet like a chocolate. When he finally spoke again, tears had begun to fall from his eyes in rapid succession. “At least I’m not a victim any more…”
Louis took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and, cupping his hand around it, lit one. He took a deep inhale and blew a plume across the table. Samuel went slightly green and scrambled for his handkerchief…
“Could you not…”
“You were good friends with Benson Bevacqua once, were you not?”
Samuel was coughing and crying at the same time – a truly pathetic sight.
“He…he destroyed me. I was the world’s best chocolatier. Better than he was, better than she is, even…” He motioned sloppily to Brie. “I was set up to conquer the culinary world. I was a respected critic and a magical chocolatier. I had everything I needed to rule…I was young, handsome…I was so handsome…” The group watched as Samuel broke down into sobs for a few minutes, hiding his face in his stiff hands.
“And then…” Louis wasn’t about to let the man indulge in dramatics any longer. It had been a long couple of days. He blew more smoke across the table.
“And then….” Samuel gagged, swiping around his face, still crumpled with sorrow, to keep the smoke away. “And then he decided the best way to do away with his competition was doing away with his competitor. I had won an apprenticeship with Belgium’s premier chocolatier at the time, Guillermo Landon. His name was everything in those days. It was my doorway to the kind of future I deserved. Benson thought differently of course…His goal became destroying my reputation and my career. He spread rumors….”
“What kind of rumors?” Mac asked. He looked at her, his eyes wet and helpless
“It was a different world back then. My lifestyle, my loves…they weren’t accepted like they are now. I had to hide myself away. Hide my heart like there was something wrong with it. Like it was disgusting…and then one day…. It didn’t matter if I hid it anymore.” He sighed, finally calm enough to take his handkerchief to his face and wipe the mess he’d created.
“I woke up and I was a deviant. I was an insane corrupter of young men. I was unemployable. Guillermo Landon…he dismissed me on the spot and wouldn’t even look me in the eye as I walked out the door. I had nothing…Benson t
ook it all. He took the apprenticeship and predictably did nothing with it. He had discovered that his real passion lay in the destruction of other artists.”
“So he became a critic,” Brie mumbled, “a logical career choice.”
“And I became a drunk. I gave up on everything I had ever hoped for and swam down to the bottom of every bottle that crossed my path. One night, in the middle of a ten-day binge, I decided that I needed to take a drive up to Benson’s cabin to give him a piece of my mind.” The room was silent as his sorrow filled the room, so palpable it was almost as if another person had slipped through the door.
“It was the worse decision of my life,” he said quietly. “It took them hours to find me and get me out of the wreckage.”