A Simple Lie

by Mary Bush

  “Yes, we do.” After a few minutes Val finally stood. “Well, we’d better get back to work.”

  Gwen also stood and began brushing dirt off the back of her pants. She stopped mid swipe and said, “Oh, I almost forgot. It’s the reason I went looking for you in the first place. Zoe, the toxicologist, asked where you were. She needs to see you right away.”

  25

  Val ran towards the toxicology lab, eager to hear the news waiting for her. There would be only one reason Zoe would need to see her. The drug testing was complete on Samantha Ritcher. As she walked through the doorway to the lab, she fought to catch her breath, and hoped that her eyes had dried out enough so that it wouldn’t look like she had been crying.

  Zoe pulled out a chair so that Val could sit and then smiled as she explained her findings, “Samantha Ritcher had the curariform drug pancuronium bromide in her system,” she announced triumphantly. “That’s what she was allergic to. It took some digging but I found it. There were traces of it in her urine sample. Not much though, the drug was essentially wearing off. It doesn’t last long after injection, typically only about a half hour. I compared pancuronium to her post-mortem serum and got a hit on the drug sensitivity.”

  Val was confused. She was aware of curare-type drugs and had a rough idea of their effects and uses. One fact stood out: people don’t use them to get high. “Why on earth would she be taking something like this?”

  “Beats the hell out of me. It’s a pretty powerful muscle relaxer. Actually, muscle paralyzer would be a better description. These drugs are used during surgical procedures. It’s risky to take it outside of a hospital setting. You need some means of artificial respiration available. It freezes all skeletal muscles including the diaphragm, in the right dosages. Once the diaphragm is inactivated, the person can’t breathe on their own anymore.”

  “Wouldn’t her breathing have stopped right away, then? Wouldn’t she have died by asphyxiation and not anaphylaxis if that were the case?” Val said, the words tumbling out. She wondered if Blythe got the cause of death wrong. But then she remembered that Zoe confirmed that it was anaphylaxis. Samantha’s enzymes and antibodies were telltale for it.

  Zoe pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “The diaphragm is the last muscle to become paralyzed, so dosage is tricky. An amount that inactivates the muscles of the hands leaves the patient’s breathing reduced by about twenty-five percent. So, if she didn’t have a high enough dose, she still would have been able to breathe. And we know that she was breathing up until she had the allergic reaction.”

  So, she had just enough to incapacitate her.

  Though Val wanted to believe that Samantha was murdered, and looked for anything to point in this direction, she maintained an open mind for the moment and searched for a plausible, simple explanation for all of this. She needed to cover all the bases and not jump to conclusions because if Samantha took the drug willingly, then her death was an accident. Val needed to rule this out.

  Working with Thomas and Jack was certainly helping her learn her job. She was becoming good at asking the right questions. “Samantha had a history of a bad back. Any possibility this might have helped with it?”

  “God no. This wouldn’t be the drug for that. It has no effect on pain.”

  Val felt her pulse pick up a few paces. The theory of taking the drug willingly just went out the window. And she was happy about that. “Then what does it do?”

  “It doesn’t affect consciousness and causes complete paralysis of muscles—motor function only, not sensory. So, she would have been fully awake, unable to move and still feel everything. This should have freaked her out.”

  Val’s thoughts spun rapidly. “How long would it have taken from the time she was injected until she became paralyzed?”

  “A couple of minutes.”

  A needle wasn’t found in the house. Samantha couldn’t have disposed of it herself. Someone got rid of it. Samantha definitely wasn’t alone. After all of this information though, there was no proof that she was murdered and no way to link her to the other women. This was still death by allergy. The manner couldn’t be changed from accident to homicide without more to go on.

  Val thought for a minute. “Too bad it’s impossible to see if all of the victims had this drug in their system. Then it would prove Samantha’s death was connected to them.”

  “It may not be impossible,” Zoe said bluntly as if this was common knowledge.

  Val sat upright. Zoe had her full attention. “What do you mean it’s not? We only have skeletal remains from the other victims.”

  “You have the skulls from the victims, right? The flat bones are a good source of red bone marrow. Red marrow is highly vascular. It has lots of blood vessels and drugs get into the blood supply. Anywhere there’s a source of blood we might be able to find drugs. That’s the premise of this technique.”

  Val liked the idea and pressed Zoe further on it.

  “It’s kind of a new procedure but it’s been getting good publicity lately. There’s been success with opioids and some sedatives. No one has tried it, to my knowledge, with muscle relaxants.” Zoe sat forward, excited. “Hey, it might not show anything, but I’ll give it a try. If it works, we could have a pretty nice presentation for the American Academy of Forensic Science meeting next year. Not to mention a good journal article. We could work on this together. It would really jump start your career in this field to do things like this. Getting published gets your name out there.”

  “What do we need?” Val said, willing to do anything.

  “I’ll need a piece of each of the skulls.”

  Val’s optimism flatlined. For her to sneak a piece of the skulls from under Dr. Blythe’s nose, would probably be as difficult as snatching the Mona Lisa from the Louvre. She had no idea how she was going to go about getting this.

  She did know one thing, though. She needed another look in Samantha Ritcher’s apartment. Her death couldn’t have been an accident. And Val knew exactly what she needed to see.

  26

  Val waited outside Samantha’s residence. Samantha’s boyfriend, Eddie, looked at her skeptically. He sized her up and down, deciding whether to let her in or not. Val had no authorized documentation to gain entrance to this house. She’d only be let in by his invitation and her ability to convince him to extend this to her.

  Jack and Thomas had told her that she needed to do this on her own. Since she was still working this case officially as a death investigator, she had a better chance of appearing legitimate if she didn’t have an entourage with her.

  “We think she died of an allergic reaction and we just need to find out what that was. It would be a great help if I could take another look around to see what it could have been. That way we could prove it was an accident and not homicide,” Val lied, not letting on she already knew how Samantha died. Dr. Blythe still hadn’t signed her death certificate. There was no way Eddie could know this. He had been considered a suspect in Samantha’s death early on and he seemed to relax once Val mentioned “allergic reaction” and “accident.”

  “I guess it’ll be okay. Will it take long? I have some work to do on my truck.” He motioned towards an old red pickup sitting in the driveway and then moved out of the doorway to let Val enter.

  “Oh, I can go through her medications myself. You can take care of your truck and I’ll just call you if I need to,” she said, hoping to get him out of the house. She wanted a few minutes alone. It would be much easier to do what she came here to do if Eddie was outside, out of her way.

  He shrugged his shoulders and seemed undecided on where he was going at this point. “Where were you thinking of starting?”

  “The bathroom would be best, that’s probably where any pills would have been kept.”

  He silently led Val to the bathroom. She stayed a couple of steps behind, trying not to get too close, but when they reached the entrance he turned, blocking the doorway.

  “It’s not
all that clean in there,” he warned.

  “Don’t worry about it, you should see my place.” Before he had a chance to say anything more, Val boldly slid past him and walked inside. She immediately wondered if she’d done the right thing or not. She was confined now.

  Eddie leaned against the door watching her every move. It was obvious he wasn’t going to leave and she needed to do something to get rid of him. Fast.

  She nervously put on latex gloves and began poking through the medicine cabinet. Every container or tube was an over-the-counter drugstore item, but Val picked each one up, inspecting the label, writing down the name of the product, opening it, looking at it and smelling the contents. She progressed through this task in a purposely agonizingly slow rate. She could see Eddie shifting his weight from one foot to the next, crossing and uncrossing his arms, then glancing at his watch. He lost his patience when Val opened the box of Band-Aids and began removing them one at a time.

  “Look, I really need to get to my truck. I have to work at four and if I don’t make it in on time my boss is going to fire me.”

  Val let out a deep sympathetic sigh, shook her head and stated, “I know what it’s like. My boss is a real prick too. Why do you think I have to do all of this crap?” She pointed to the healthcare products spread out on the counter and gave him a knowing scowl of asshole bosses and oppressive working conditions, hoping to win his trust.

  It worked. Eddie gave her a grin and the tension eased.

  Val said encouragingly, and with a smile, “Go take care of your truck. I’ll get what I need and be out of your way in no time. Hell, if I don’t clock back in by four, my ass is toast too.”

  He didn’t move and Val wasn’t sure what he was going to do. “I’ll be right outside, just let me know if you need anything,” he said.

  She continued to smile and said assuredly, trying to hide any apprehension in her voice, “I’ll do that.”

  He finally left the house.

  From the window, Val had a partial view of the driveway. She waited until she saw Eddie walk towards his truck then hurried out of the bathroom and headed toward the bedroom; the room she really wanted to check.

  In the bedroom, she had a much better view of the driveway and watched him pop the hood, beginning work on the pickup. She waited again, making sure he was involved with his job. Though it seemed safe, Val kept an eye on the window, glancing frequently to make sure he was still outside.

  Quickly, she slid the bottom dresser drawer open. The last time she searched in here was the day Samantha was found dead. She was looking for drugs then. Today she wanted something else, and it was what she saw in this drawer that she needed to see again. Luckily, all of Samantha’s belongings appeared to still be here.

  As she moved items around, her fingers finally hit something large and rectangular. Val smiled as she pulled out what she was hoping to find—Samantha’s photo album.

  The person who killed Samantha had to have also known Francine too. Their deaths must be connected somehow. But the last time Samantha communicated with her sister was when she was a teenager. The link to this crime had to have roots extending at least that far back. Val needed to find something, anything in Samantha’s past that could put the two murders together.

  Some of the pages were old and yellowed with age. The pictures probably dated from the mid to late eighties judging by the clothing and hairstyles depicted. There were several of youngish-looking teenagers. Val lingered on these.

  There was one photo of three young girls that caught her eye and after it did, she just stared. It was grainy and hard to discern clear facial features, obviously a result of photography at least thirty years old. Val needed to remove it to see it better and felt around the corners of the page, carefully lifting the cellophane. Her fingers stopped midway, a noise from outside had grabbed her attention as a car door slammed.

  Her hand was frozen as she watched Eddie wave to the man next door, who had just gotten out of his car. They talked for a few minutes. She let out a sigh of relief when Eddie finally resumed his work. All attention went back to the book. Her hands trembled as she pulled the picture free.

  The girls were around the age of twelve or thirteen. One was much smaller than the other two and had dark hair. Val brought the photo close to her face, her heart pounding. It was no use, no matter how hard she looked, there was no way to be sure. There just wasn’t enough detail. She was so young. But it was just so bizarre that she would have such a strong resemblance in demeanor, such an uncanny way about her. In the photo, the girl’s arms were crossed over her chest and she was leaning against a tree.

  All Val could see as she stared at this girl—this girl with her dark hair, small stature and crossed arms—was Julia DeHaviland, her arms crossed, leaning on a gurney telling the story of how she met her husband Colin. Julia looked vulnerable then. The girl in the photo depicted that same vulnerability.

  Val flipped the picture over. The writing on the back read; Me and my best friends—Frannie and Sam, August 1987. Why would Samantha even have this? It obviously didn’t belong to her. It belonged to the small dark-haired girl who made the inscription. Val began scouring through the rest of the album, her thoughts racing. She needed to know who this girl was.

  The three girls were in several other shots. They appeared younger in these, and this time they were standing around a boy. Val guessed the girls were about ten and the boy about seven or eight. She put the picture with the inscription to the side and was just about to pull this other one out of the album when she heard a noise coming from outside. She looked out of the window to check the whereabouts of Eddie.

  Val saw the truck only.

  A second later she heard the front door to the apartment slam and her pulse exploded.

  As quickly as she could, she placed the picture back in the album, pulling the cellophane cover over it. Then she hesitated, taking the picture back out, holding it firmly in her hand. She needed this.

  “Are you finding what you need?” Eddie called to her.

  “Yes. I’m just finishing up,” she yelled as she put the album back in the drawer, her fingers fumbling nervously as she heard him coming towards her, not sure what to do with the picture. Not to mention how to explain why she was in his bedroom. Val no sooner had the dresser drawer closed and the picture hidden in her pocket when Eddie appeared in the doorway.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked.

  Val couldn’t read the tone. It wasn’t accusatory or angry. It simply asked the question.

  “I didn’t find anything in the bathroom. A lot of women keep medicine in the bedroom. It’s pretty common. I do it myself,” she said, hoping that he believed her. “I thought maybe she had something in the dresser.” Val’s heart was beating hard enough to leap out of her chest.

  “Did you find anything to help with what happened to Samantha?”

  “No, not really. But I’ll keep looking into it.” She got up off the bed and walked out of the room and headed to the front door. All she wanted was to get out of the apartment now. Eddie followed close behind.

  “You know, Samantha was cremated and I spread her ashes in a place that was special to her. She told me it was special to Francine too and I know Samantha would want her sister to be with her. Do you know what happened to Francine’s remains? Could I get them? I know I’m not family, but I could spread her ashes with Samantha’s,” he said.

  “That’s really nice of you to do that for her.” Val wondered if she’d misjudged Eddie. He seemed to really care about Samantha. “I’ll check to see what’s going on and let you know.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

  Val paused, her hand on the doorknob. “By the way, where was this special place?”

  “It’s where they used to play when they were kids. They grew up in Orchard Park, not far from Chestnut Ridge Park. They kind of built this fort out of tree branches just off from one of the hiking trails. Samantha told me they used to hang out the
re all of the time. Francine and her had it bad growing up and it was kind of like a safe place for them to be.”

  “Could you tell me just where in the park this fort was?”

  Eddie explained and then said something far more interesting.

  27

  “Well,” Gwen blurted before she even had her jacket off, “what happened?”

  She’d arrived at Val’s house only seconds behind Jack, who was already looking at the picture that Val had taken from Samantha’s apartment.

  “She just looks so much like Julia,” Val said of the person in the photo.

  “How can you tell? You can’t really see her face. Plus, this person is pretty young. A lot happens in thirty years,” Jack stated plainly.

  “I can’t explain it. It’s the way she’s standing. To me, it’s just Julia.” Val felt a need to defend her opinion, but really couldn’t. Neither Jack nor Gwen had ever met her. They didn’t know her. Though Val’s own interaction with Julia was short-lived, what they confided in each other was not trivial.

  “Unfortunately, this doesn’t prove anything,” Jack said. And it didn’t. No matter how hard Val tried, there was nothing more she could really say to be convincing.

  Gwen took the picture from Jack. She turned it over and said, “These girls were best friends. Val, wouldn’t Julia have said something if she once had known Francine Donohue and Samantha Ritcher?”

  “I know. It’s a long shot and if that’s Julia, if she was keeping this secret, it changes a lot with this case,” Val said.

  “Secret is an understatement. To hide a piece of information this big? Why not tell Detective Gavin?” Gwen said.

  “Maybe she was afraid to do so,” Val replied.

  “I agree with you, this is a long shot,” Jack said. “But, let’s take it into consideration for now. We have to because Julia and Francine have been the focal points of this crime. DNA evidence ties Colin as the suspect in their deaths. He’s set up to take the fall for both of them. Also, circumstantial evidence links him to Samantha through phone records. The killer knows Colin. This killer also knows, at least, Francine, Samantha and Julia. They have to be connected some way. Why not like this? It’s odd that there’s nothing to tie him to Jeanne’s death yet, so we don’t know how she fits in with all of this.”