by Mary Bush
“Do you think this is a copy?” Warren asked Gavin. “Colin might have just seen the TV reports and made this murder look like the others. It’s nearly identical. The only difference is that this one is not as clean. Some bloody fingerprints were found downstairs on the kitchen cabinet. With the dark wood, it’s hard to see. Could be why he missed them in a cleanup attempt.”
“It can’t be a copy. He changed the sheets. He left the pillowcase and changed the sheets. We never released that information to the media. How would he have known to do that?” Gavin asked.
“Julia was working on the case with Blythe. She might have told Colin about certain parts of it.”
“It’s possible but unlikely. This would hardly be a conversation to have when you’re trying to win back your husband.”
Gavin’s cell phone went off and he answered the call. When he hung up he announced, “Colin Turner’s been located. He’s being brought in as we speak.”
Mitchell Gavin was in his office when the phone rang again. He felt like pulling the cord from the wall. Since Colin Turner’s arrest last week, he had been pelted with calls from the media. Nonetheless his spirits were high. He was looking at a promotion for making the arrest in the most high-profile murder case that Buffalo had seen in the last twenty years.
The evidence found in Julia’s house was indisputable. DNA confirmed the teeth and portions of the jawbone clinging to them belonged to Julia. Blood at the scene belonged to Julia. And Colin left his fingerprints in her blood on the kitchen cabinet door; this was better than a confession. Other evidence was being uncovered that connected him to the murders of both Francine Donohue and Samantha Ritcher, but the department was keeping it quiet for now.
Gavin finally picked up the receiver and though he hadn’t spoken to the person on the other end in quite a while, he recognized the voice immediately. “Well, Thomas Hayden, how have you been?”
“I couldn’t be better,” Thomas answered.
“How are things in Boston? Are you keeping the crime rates down?”
“I’m doing what I can.”
Gavin couldn’t read the tone—if Thomas was joking or sarcastic he didn’t know. But he did know Thomas’s background and reputation. Thomas Hayden had spent years as a criminalist working in various roles for the State of Massachusetts, and was very highly regarded. After his retirement, he branched out and was now a high-profile expert usually hired by the defense. He was well known for being able to turn the odds around, especially with hopeless situations. This is what he was famous for. Christ, there were radio and television shows depicting his cases.
Thomas Hayden was also arrogant and rightly so. Gavin decided to stroke that ego, if only to find out what this call was about, though he had his suspicions. “So, are you working on anything unusual? I just heard about your latest triumph on that show, Crime in the City. It’s such a good case that they keep repeating it.”
“That was a challenge. The one I have right now is boring. It’s a suspected arsenic poisoning death. The family is requesting a second autopsy to test the victim for it.”
“Do you think they’ll find any?”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that arsenic will be found in the body. I’m having samples tested as we speak.”
“So, you’re suspicious that someone killed him?”
“No. I’m covering my ass. There’s an old well that used to supply the drinking water for the house on the property. It’s only several hundred yards from the Aberjona River in Woburn, Massachusetts. There used to be a lot of tanneries along the banks and tanneries used arsenic in their processing. The soil and water are probably still thoroughly contaminated. This is where I think the arsenic came from. For nostalgic reasons, the victim used to drink from the well. I just have to make sure the water and soil samples are consistent with anything they find in the body.”
“Thomas. That’s ingenious on your part. Who are you getting off the hook for murder?”
“No one. I was hired by the children of the victim to find proof that the stepmother did it.”
“Finding a killer. This is prosecutorial not defense. It doesn’t sound like your kind of thing.”
“It’s not. I’m not taking the case, but not for that reason. I have another one that just popped up. It interests me much more. This one is, as you just described, ‘my kind of thing.’”
“I’m assuming that’s the reason for this phone call?” Gavin clenched the phone tighter. He knew what was coming next.
“Yes, it is. What can you tell me about a Colin Turner?”
Thomas had made his career from taking cases like this, but this one was beyond hope and Gavin was prepared to set Thomas straight. “Colin Turner is a guilty, egotistical, arrogant bastard who murdered his wife over money. It’s the oldest reason in the book. You don’t want to get mixed up with him. You have better things to do with your time.”
“I disagree. That’s just the type I like to inspect. I’m thinking of coming to look at things.”
“Save yourself a trip. There’s really no reason. The evidence against him is overwhelming.”
“I’ve seen the report. His lawyer sent it to me. What’s his excuse for not killing his wife? Is it a good one?”
“His defense is about as lame as they come. He said, and I quote…” Gavin picked up the notes from his interrogation with Colin and read, “‘After I came back, she tried to commit suicide. She was bleeding. She was holding a bloody towel on her wrist. I grabbed the towel to help her. But she pulled away. I had blood on my hands when I opened the cabinet. That must be how my fingerprint got on it.’”
“That’s actually not bad. I’ve heard worse,” Thomas responded. “Anyway, I hear, mostly from the news, that there have been other murders committed in the same way. Is he a suspect in those too?”
“The prime suspect.”
“You know, Mitch, this is my specialty.”
Gavin heard the enthusiastic tone in Thomas’s voice and responded strongly. “The evidence is airtight against him. He left his fingerprints with his wife’s blood at the scene. There is no debating it. He just created some story to try to explain it away.”
“I think I would like to be the judge of that.”
“Suit yourself.” Gavin tried to sound cordial. “By the way, where did Colin get the cash to hire someone like you?”
“Mitchell, you know I can’t disclose my potential client’s finances. Anyway, we’re just finishing up the arsenic testing for that case I mentioned earlier. Oh, I almost forgot. I’ve been working with a partner for the last few years now. His name is Jack Styles. We should be in Buffalo by next week.”
16
Since Julia’s death, Val had experienced mixed emotions. She felt sorrow at losing Julia. She felt vengeful because she wanted to catch her killer. And she feared what her fate at the medical examiner’s office might be. With Julia gone, and Julia’s support and protection gone, her future was unknown. Hell, my entire career at the medical examiner’s office could come and go in little more than a month, she thought.
But today, she didn’t feel the dread. Even the irritating ride into work she was experiencing couldn’t drag her spirits down.
Traffic was heavy on the thruway, making a slow drive into the city. Steady downpours, which now tapered to drizzle, had slicked the roads all morning, and everyone was driving in an unnecessarily cautious manner. Cars were going at less than 20 mph, stopping and starting, creating gridlock. A solid mass of dark clouds filled the sky, threatening more precipitation, and as Val arrived for work, the rain started to pick up in intensity again.
She pulled into the parking ramp and went up two levels to her designated parking spot, thankful she wouldn’t have to walk outside. It was a long hike to the entrance from where she parked her car, but at least this was indoors. The spot was clearly labeled: “# 232. Reserved for Death Investigator”. Today, however, another car was parked in her place. It wasn’t the first time. Doctors from the hospital took
any open spot, regardless of who it belonged to.
Pissed, she circled around, winding up one level at a time. There was only one level left, the top. Uncovered. No roof. As she emerged back into daylight from the darkness of the ramp, drops speckled the windshield. By the time she had parked the car the rain was pounding.
“Damn, damn, damn!” Val muttered, realizing she didn’t have an umbrella. She made a mad dash for the entrance, running as fast as she could, but it was no use: she was soaked by the time she arrived at the door.
Dripping wet, Val sloshed through the corridors heading towards her office, thankful she could grab a pair of scrubs to change into. She was not thankful when she bumped into Candace.
“What happened to you?” Candace asked.
Val began to wonder how bad she really looked. “You might be surprised to hear it’s raining outside.” She didn’t bother to hide how irritated she was.
“Don’t you keep an umbrella in your car? I keep one in my car and in my purse. My hair just takes on a mind of its own if the rain gets at it.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll try to remember it for next time.” She turned to walk away when Candace spoke again.
“Oh, I have a surprise for you. I left her in your office.”
Val stopped and turned towards Candace, staring at her impatiently, expecting to hear what she was talking about, but Candace merely crossed her arms and said nothing.
“Who is it?” Val was curt. She was in no mood for Candace’s games. All she wanted to do was change out of her wet clothing. The morgue was always kept fairly cool and she was already feeling uncomfortable.
“I’ll let her introduce herself. I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Val hurried to her office, nervous. Who in the hell could this be? When she arrived, there was a red-headed woman standing in it. “Can I help you?” she asked.
The woman was busy unloading items from a large cardboard box. She stopped once she heard Val. “You must be Valentina Knight,” the woman said, staring at Val’s dripping hair.
Val immediately felt self-conscious about her appearance and began to explain, “I was caught in the rain.” She reached a hand to her hair, pushing soggy strands from her face.
“The administrator, Candace, told me to wait for you here. Sorry I seem a little disorganized. Today’s my first day of work.”
“Oh, you must be one of the new public relations people.” Val relaxed and sized this woman up. She was attractive, with curly auburn hair. She stood about five foot nine inches and had to be in her late thirties or early forties. Yes, she belonged in a public relations department. All of the people working there were pretty. They looked good in news interviews. She had heard about the new PR people who had been hired mostly to take care of the media frenzy surrounding Julia’s murder and the arrest of her husband Colin. Val was told she would be interviewed by one. This is probably what Candace was so happy about. Maybe Val’s background would be revealed during the inquisition.
The stranger laughed. “Public relations? No, I’m here to work with you. I’m your new fellow death investigator.” She extended her hand. “I’m Gwen. Gwen Carmondy.”
Val stood still for a moment, not moving. Then she mechanically held out her hand. Gwen shook it and then let go. Val felt her body go limp, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She heard what the woman was saying but somehow it wasn’t registering. This couldn’t be true. She was suddenly standing in the middle of a very bad dream. Then reality hit hard as she stared at the person she’d stolen the job from.
“Are you okay?” Gwen questioned. “Maybe you should sit down. You don’t look well.” She pulled a chair over and tried to coax Val into it.
“I’m fine.” She waved away the chair.
“Anyway, Dr. Blythe hired me yesterday and asked me to start today. He said the office was pretty busy.”
Val had wondered how much time was left before her days at the medical examiner’s office were over. With Gwen Carmondy standing in front of her, the end might be sooner than she thought. Choosing her words carefully, Val asked, “How did you find out about the position? I mean, how did you know there was an opening?”
“Oh, I was good friends with Oliver Solaris. He used to be one of the head death investigators here. I heard you knew him too. I can’t believe he’s gone. Wasn’t he awesome?”
“He was the best.” Val placed a hand on the counter to steady herself. Oliver Solaris could have been an ax murderer for all she knew of him. The room suddenly became hot and she felt dizzy.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit?” Gwen patted the chair.
Val just shook her head.
“This is such a funny story. I was actually supposed to be interviewed about a month ago. After Oliver died, they decided to hire someone else he knew. That must have been you.”
Val nodded. She felt the lie was written all across her face and waited for Gwen to ask something that would make it all too obvious that she’d never met this man. She held her breath, as Gwen continued.
“I called out of the blue and spoke to Dr. Blythe. I told him who I was and asked if he could keep my résumé on file in case a position should open up. He offered me the job on the spot. He said with the death of the deputy medical examiner, he needed help. I can’t believe what happened to her. I hear her husband did it, that he’s a serial killer. He’s killed more people, right?”
“That’s what they say.” Val spoke automatically. Her thoughts started to run wild as she waited for more discussion about Oliver. She pictured another futile job search, losing her house. Living on the street. Her anxiety now ratcheted up to epic proportions. Wavering, she finally took hold of the chair and managed to sit down, before she fell down.
“Valentina—that’s a pretty name. Is it Italian? You look Italian,” Gwen said.
Val just nodded.
“You know, I don’t know anyone in this area. We’ll have to get a drink after work one night and you can let me in on all of the gossip around here.”
Val nodded again. Though she had managed a smile, feigning some enthusiasm towards Gwen’s suggestion, she was horrified at the thought. The last thing in the world Val wanted to do was be alone with Gwen for any length of time. How on earth would she handle any questions about their mutual friend Oliver? She barely knew what the man looked like.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do, plus I really need to change out of these wet clothes. Nice to meet you,” Val said in an effort to get away.
“Nice to meet you too.”
As Val got up to leave, Gwen said, “Isn’t it great they give us our own parking spot? Mine’s in a bad location. It’s in a corner on the second level of the ramp. Candace assigned me #232. Where do you get to park? I’m sure it’s better than that.”
17
Thomas Hayden and his partner Jack Styles sat in Gavin’s office, waiting for the detective. They had arrived in Buffalo from Boston a little more than an hour ago. After checking into their hotel room, they had come straight to the police station. Neither took time to unpack.
Jack glanced at his watch and frowned at Thomas. “We’ve been sitting here almost a half hour,” he said. “Maybe you should call him.”
“Be patient. Detective Gavin is working a murder case. He’s trying to find some solid evidence against our potential client. I’m sure he wants to influence us with something very good. Why else would he make us wait?” He checked his own watch. Then peered at the clock hanging on the wall.
They both turned towards the door as Gavin finally appeared. He had several folders in his hands and a confident smile on his face. He shifted the folders, extending a free hand to Thomas first and then was introduced to Jack.
“How was your flight?” Gavin asked.
“Horrible,” Thomas said. “The only positive thing was that I did get through Colin’s case file. I have to say you were right, Mitch, it’s pretty damning. He left a trail in his wife’s blood.”
“It’s gotten worse since we spoke last week. I think you’d better have a look before going much further with this.” Gavin opened one of the folders and handed Thomas the report, pointing to the last part. “That evidence was found just this morning.”
Thomas read slowly, letting the information sink in.
Jack read over his shoulder and then asked, “Is this confirmed?”
“Yes. It’s concrete. Up until now we only had circumstantial evidence linking Colin with Francine Donohue and Samantha Ritcher. This is a little more substantial.”
“Well then, it looks like the odds have taken a turn for the worse.” Thomas closed the folder.
“I wouldn’t want to play against these odds,” Gavin said abruptly.
“When can I see Colin?” Thomas asked, unaffected by Gavin’s comment.
Gavin sat back in his chair, his eyebrows raised. “Thomas, I’m surprised you still want to go forward with this. You can see him now. Colin doesn’t know about the last part in that report. We only received that minutes before you arrived.”
“Good, I’ll get to see his honest reaction to it. Let me talk to Colin and then I’ll make my decision about this case.”
Gavin met up with Warren in the hallway and the two led Thomas and Jack through the building and into the section that housed the county jail. They went through the necessary security checks before being placed face to face with Colin Turner in the interrogation room. His lawyer sat beside him.