The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore

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The Priest Who Ate A Poison Petit Fore Page 19

by Kee Patterbee


  “There is the simple fact that I had nothing to do with it,” a voice interrupted.

  Both Hannah and Borden turned to see the smiling face of Holmes. He pushed a manila enveloped toward Borden.

  “The necessary papers. I have already contacted the family and explained everything. The daughter required no convincing. All you do now is get these to your brother-in-law to sign off and I am sure he will apply his signature.” Holmes looked to Hannah. “As you requested, my dear,” he added with a cheeky tone.

  At first, Hannah stood blank faced. She was not sure what to say. Holmes regarded her with a near comforting smile.

  “Relax, my dear. I am not insulted. It is a logical consideration.”

  “You heard the conversation?”

  “Enough to put it together.” Holmes pointed to the book. “My book does hold a certain viewpoint not unrelated to this case. I did admit to being...” he gestured with air quotes, “aware of an increased number of deaths. I was present for at least one and witness to an attempt of another. I have access to the necessary tools. I have access to potential victims. It all sounds quite suspicious.”

  Borden twisted, as if uncomfortable, as Hannah studied Holmes’ demeanor. Confident. At ease. Open. She wondered if he was being honest or condescending.

  “Were you on the floor about twenty minutes ago?”

  “I was. I came down to hurry along some files. After I left, I realized I had left my pen.”

  Hannah gave an incredulous look. “You came back for a pen?”

  Borden interceded. “Oh, trust me. He’s peculiar about that pen.”

  Holmes stiffened and his eye twitched a slight bit. “It has significance and importance.” He pointed to Hannah’s hat. “Much, I suspect, in the way of your choice of top wear. I’ve had it for over forty years. The flow is perfect. The cartridges are…”

  “Henry, please,” Borden requested.

  Holmes cleared his throat. “Sorry.” His posture became more erect. “It is of importance to me.”

  “I get that,” Hannah admitted, “but you didn’t hear the commotion?”

  A quizzical look came upon Holmes. “I am afraid I did not. Explain.”

  “Someone attacked Mr. Rhoades in that sub-maintenance room.” Hannah gestured back up the hall. “They’ve taken him somewhere. He has a head injury.”

  “Oh my. Emergency then to a CAT scan if I were to venture a guess. Depending on its severity, then to surgery.”

  “He was leaking fluid from his nose and ear.”

  “Surgery it is then.” Again, Holmes looked back to Hannah. As before, he glanced at the book. “Were you here to meet him?”

  “Yes.”

  The physician glanced down the hall. His eyes followed the painted footfalls along the way until they came back to where all three stood. “I suspect this is part of the whole ordeal.”

  Hannah watched in curiosity at the man as he fit pieces together. It struck her the physician was as thorough and logical as she was. She wondered if this was what her friends experienced when working with her. It was both unnerving and satisfying to behold.

  “The paint came from shelves inside the maintenance room. They were on Mr. Rhoades when we found him. It looked like he fell onto the shelving and pulled it onto him.”

  “He is careful, I have noted. I find it improbable that he would have fallen upon the shelves and succumbed to the whims of fate.”

  I like him, Hannah thought. Methodical. “I agree.”

  Holmes once more eyed the book. Gesturing to it, he gave a slight grin. “You retrieved that from his locker, I would imagine, during the confusion.”

  “I did.”

  Borden crossed his arms. “How’d you know that?”

  “Logic. Ms. Starvling was meeting with Mr. Rhoades. She came to see him, made obvious by her presence here. The floor in general does not include painted footfalls, and there is no reason for her to be carrying a copy of the book just for said meeting. She already informed me that she had a copy, so there was no reason to buy another. Thus, it came from somewhere. Ergo, the locker of Mr. Rhoades.”

  Hannah grinned. “You guessed.”

  “I prefer to say that I made an inferred deduction probability. Regardless, I gave him that copy. My signature is in the front, which you no doubt have located. He was tidying up my office when I saw him glancing it over. He never speaks much and shows little interest, but in this, he was curious. As such, I provided him with one.”

  “Did he say why it interested him?”

  “No, I am afraid not. He did state that he found it strange a woman would kill in such a manner, which I found curious given his background.”

  A woman, Hannah noted. Not women. “When did you give it to him?”

  “About three days ago it had to be.”

  Hannah’s nose wiggled a few times before she caught sight of both men staring at her.

  “I’ve noticed that quirk of yours. What are you thinking?” Borden inquired.

  Hannah looked over to Holmes. “I wasn’t sure if the book was a clue. The signature threw me off. I thought maybe he brought it in for your autograph. While I don’t think it’s specific, I think he was trying to figure out something. Reverend Whipson had him looking for evidence. That’s what he was going to show us before the attack. But that book and this card,” Hannah produced the card once more, “were all I found. Know anything about them?”

  “Hmm, yes, they are the hospital’s major supplier of anesthesia, among other things.” Holmes studied the card for a moment. “Representatives of the corporation are here often.”

  Hannah perked up. “Are they doing some kind of drug trials on sight?”

  Holmes shook his head. “No, I am afraid not at the moment. At least not that I am aware of.” He gave Hannah another odd look. “Ah, that is what your earlier conversation was about. You considered me as a liaison between company and participants.”

  Hannah gave a halfhearted smile and a shrug of the shoulders. “Sorry, I consider everyone.”

  “Yes, original thinking and all that. It is good to keep an open mind when working a case.”

  Borden tapped at the card. “Was this in Henry’s book?”

  “In a Bible.”

  Holmes turned his head to the side for a second. Observing him, Hannah knew something about that caught his attention.

  “You find that interesting?”

  “Curious is more the word I would say you are looking for.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because Mr. Rhoades is an atheist. Perhaps an agnostic at best.”

  “I thought his best friend was the Reverend,” Borden offered.

  “That does not mean he holds the same beliefs, Jack. Consider yourself and me. I hold no such beliefs, but you have expressed such belief upon occasion.”

  “Point taken.” Borden straightened himself, placing his hands on either hip. “Okay, answer the obvious.”

  “As I said, the day I gave him the book, he commented that he found it strange a woman would kill in such a manner. He asked me if there was an answer. I responded, God only knows. He laughed. The only time I ever saw him do such. Then he said that’s Reverend talk. I don’t much buy into that kind of thing.”

  The lawman produced a dubious expression. “And that makes him an atheist?”

  “No, but were I a wagering fellow, that is one I would take.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Hannah inserted.

  “Then why the Bible?” Borden asked. “Makes no sense.”

  “It does if you are trying to hide something in a subtle way,” Hannah offered.

  “Seems rather paranoid, don’t you think?”

  Hannah bobbed her head back and forth as if she were dancing to some unheard music. “Not if you think about it. He spent quite a few years in prison. Tried to escape on at least one occasion. A Bible seems like it might be a perfect place to keep a note in the form of a mark.”

  “I would have to agree,” H
olmes said, tapping his cane against the floor. “But now, what does that mean?”

  The sudden mounting thrill left the air as all three contemplated for a moment. Borden broke the silence.

  “Maybe it’s not a hiding place. Maybe that’s just where he found the card.”

  “Where he found the card,” Hannah said half aloud.

  Both the physician and the lawman waited for an explanation. Hannah gave in with no little eagerness.

  “Inside the Bible itself. Where he kept the card.”

  “And where was that?” Holmes inquired.

  “Revelation, but we’ll have to find a copy. I know it was between 6 and 10. I remember seeing those passage numbers at the top of the pages.”

  Holmes gestured up. “There is a chapel on the first floor.”

  Hannah and Borden agreed. All three were about to exit when Hannah heard Gran call out. All three stopped as both Magdalen and the elder Starvling made their way toward the group. Once upon them, Hannah made introductions.

  “Dr. Holmes. Sheriff Borden. This is my grandmother, Sindee Starvling. This is my sister-in-law, Magdalen Miles. My grandmother gave Magdalen a ride down. She’s a friend of the Yorks.”

  “Just doing my part to help out,” Gran stated, smiling at her granddaughter.

  Hannah responded with a questioning look.

  Holmes gave a broad smile to Gran. “I believe the article I read about your granddaughter mentioned you. If I recall, they called you the Gumshoe Gal, a well season detective in your own right.”

  Hannah noticed as her grandmother beamed at the recognition.

  “Oh, shush. I dabbled a bit is all. You know, to ease the boredom of life. Those were back when I was young and sassy.”

  “Well, you have aged with the grace of a fine wine, I must say. Your husband is a lucky man indeed.”

  “You are too kind, but I’m not having much luck at being a detective today. I didn’t find anyone who saw anything,” Gran informed in a somewhat distracted tone.

  “Me either,” Magdalen issued.

  Hannah rolled her eyes at the obvious flirting Gran displayed. Even though in her 70s, the petite grandmother still enjoyed attention. She knew her older sleuth adored her husband, but that never stopped her from ‘dippin her toes in the pond to see what might bite,’ as Papa Jay put it. “She’s just not one prone to keepin’ ‘em.”

  “Ahem. Speaking of helping out. Papa Jay, did you call him?”

  Gran frowned, put off by her granddaughter spoiling her game. She nodded yes. “He’s fine. Hazelnut, Gigantor, and Casper are fine. They’re in the RV. All being fine. Eating fudge and heaven knows what else.”

  Hannah put her arm around her grandmother. “Good, but even though you struck out, we may have found something. We’re heading to the chapel.”

  “What? Are we praying for clues now?”

  “Nope, just a revelation.”

  As the group headed up to the ground floor, Magdalen announced that instead she would go break the news to the Reverend.

  “Best he hears it from me than someone else. I’ll update Tubbs.”

  Hannah gave a nod and a half smirk at hearing the nickname for her husband. It came to her she still had a lot to learn about her new sister-in-law and she looked forward to that pleasure. For now, she had just one thing on her mind. Resolving the case before her. When the elevator opened, all but Magdalen stepped off. They said their goodbyes and Holmes led them to the chapel. Entering, all four found no one but located a Bible near the front.

  “Ah, I get it. Revelation,” Gran half snickered. “What was the passage?”

  “I just have the chapter and verses. Six through ten. I’m hoping something will jump out.”

  Grans, Borden, and Holmes waited as Hannah drug her finger along the lines. Her eyes widened when she came to 8:11.

  “Can’t be,” she uttered half aloud, with a hint of disbelief.

  “What?” demanded Borden. “What’d you find?”

  Hannah said nothing, but continued reading. After a moment, with eyes fixed on the book, she looked up and glanced around. “I read everything from 6-10. I found one thing that I recognize.” She picked up the tome and handed it to Holmes. “8:11. Recognize it?”

  Holmes adjusted his glasses as he read. Gran and Borden strained to read along, each on either side of the physician. Hannah watched as his signature eye twitch revealed itself. He turned his eyes upward to the sleuth, looking over his brow.

  He recognizes it, Hannah thought.

  Holmes glanced once more before handing the book back to Gran. Then she read the passage aloud.

  “And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters because they were made bitter.” Gran looked up to Hannah. “I don’t get it. Someone’s poisoning these people with water?”

  Hannah shook her head, “No, you haven’t been here for most of this.”

  Wrinkles rolled across Gran’s forehead as she curled her lip. “And whose fault is that? If you’d let me in on this at the beginning, you’d be having fun right now, missy. Doing what you should be doing on your honeymoon.”

  Hannah let out a slow breath. Not the time, she told herself. A later conversation. “Gran, we’re in a chapel.”

  The elder Starvling’s face eased. She glanced around and then looked up toward a stained glass dome depicting religious scenes. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Ahem.” Borden interrupted. He pointed to the passage. “Not to intrude on… whatever that was, but what… does… this… mean?”

  “The name.” Holmes stood erect. “Nothing else stands out but that single line. And given the other individual reported leaving after me, it does rather fit.”

  “You know her then?”

  “I do. And I have another detail that might intrigue you.”

  “WHAT NAME?”

  “Wormwood,” both Hannah and Holmes answered.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Both the elder Starvling and the lawman waited for an explanation. Hannah explained.

  “It’s the name of a woman who works here.”

  “Volunteers, to be precise,” Holmes interjected. “She does various duties around the hospital.”

  “Giving her access to?”

  “Almost everything, I would imagine. I have encountered her in records, at nursing stations, reception.” Holmes frowned a bit. “No one would pay attention to her, regardless. It is the general demeanor of trust with the entire facility. I have made note of it several times with administration, but to no avail.”

  Hannah pondered the woman’s physical description. 60s. Short. 5’3” or 5’4”. Light dyed blonde hair. Well maintained. In a hurry.

  Gran pointed to her granddaughter’s quirk. “What are you thinking, dear?”

  “The who fits. The why will come once we find her.” She peered over to Holmes. “That detail you mentioned.”

  “Oh, yes, Pasithea Pharmaceutical. One Gabriel Wormwood founded the corporation.”

  Hannah’s interest piqued. “Husband?”

  “Correct. He retired here several years ago, and in large part, founded Happiness. In particular, this facility. He died, I believe it was, around eighteen months ago.”

  “Didn’t you say that’s when all this started?” Borden interceded.

  Hannah gestured yes, but continued processing everything in her head. “Her husband’s death could have triggered all this. How did he die?”

  “If memory serves---”

  “And it always does,” Borden interrupted, much to Holmes’ consternation.

  “If memory serves, he suffered from coronary disease acerbated by diabetes. That and his advanced age prevented a heart transplant. In time, he succumbed to…” Holmes words stopped mid-sentence. He cleared his throat before finishing. “He succumbed to cardiac arrest.”

  Borden pulled out his phone. “That’s enough for me. I’m picking her up for questioning. Henry, could
you check with security and see if she’s still on the grounds?”

  “I will do it from my office.”

  “Oh yeah, right?”

  Holmes turned to Hannah and pointed to Borden’s phone. “I do not ascribe to those. My office is on the west side of the building, second floor. Would you care to join us there?”

  Hannah shook her head. “We’ll have to catch up with you two in a bit. I still have something else to check first. I also need to check in with my husband.” She thumbed to Gran. “She as well.”

  “Of course. Well, please allow me to provide you with my office phone. I’m sure Jack will do the same for his device.”

  Hannah took the information for both.

  Looking to Magdalen and Gran, Holmes smiled. “Ladies, a pleasure.” With that, he and Borden moved down the hall and out of sight.

  Gran peered at Hannah. “Why are we not going with them?”

  “Because we’re still missing something. I’m not sure what yet. It just seems so random and disconnected. She fits some details. Accessibility. The description, but I don’t see the connection.” Hannah removed her hat and dusted at the edges. “She was there after Pepper Mothershed died. I saw her around in the gift shop. We talked some, but…” Her words trailed off.

  Gran frowned. “But what?”

  “Our conversation…” Hannah thought back to the gift shop. “I think she might have been… I don’t know.” She turned to stare at her companions. “Mocking me, I think. Dangling a carrot, so to speak.”

  “How?” Magdalen asked.

  “Just by what she said. We were talking, and she mentioned her husband dying. I said I was sorry, and she waved it off, but she said something else.” Hannah closed her eyes and thought back to the conversation. Doing so, she tried to remember the words Wormwood had said. She repeated them aloud as they came to her in pieces. “Things happen... Sometimes when we’re not old... That’s when it hurts. To those we love…. We never know why. We just suffer. There’s an opportunity to amend things thereafter.”

 

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