‘‘No. I have some things to do in the lab. Take all the time you need.’’
‘‘Mike, thanks,’’ said Diane as he was leaving.
He lingered at the door a moment. ‘‘Sure, Doc. You know you can always count on me.’’ He closed the door.
Diane wanted a private place to talk with Kingsley, and Mike’s was the closest office. She looked up his number on her cell.
‘‘Diane,’’ Kingsley said, answering. ‘‘I’m relieved to hear your voice. I was just reading about you. Are you all right?’’
‘‘Yes, I’m fine. I haven’t seen the paper; what does it say?’’
‘‘Not much, really. Something about a home invasion and an unknown assailant who might be injured or dead. What happened?’’ he asked.
‘‘A lot more than in the papers. How are you?’’
‘‘I guess Shane told you about my accident. Asleep at the wheel...I—’’
‘‘I think you may have been drugged,’’ interrupted Diane.
Kingsley was silent for a moment.
‘‘Drugged?’’ he said. ‘‘What do you mean? How? You mean at the museum?’’
‘‘Do you have a bruise or—I know this is going to sound a little appalling—but do you have any clothes with your blood on them from the accident?’’ said Diane.
‘‘I don’t know. Bruises, yes, but my wife took my clothes. What’s this about?’’ he asked.
‘‘I’m sure you’ve metabolized it out of your system by now, but the blood in a bruise or in your clothes can be analyzed for barbiturates,’’ Diane said.
‘‘Barbiturates. Okay, what’s this about?’’ he asked.
‘‘Last night I apparently slept through a violent homicide in my apartment. At the hospital they found barbiturates in my blood sample. If it weren’t for that, I’d probably be under arrest for murder.’’
There was a rather long silence at the other end of the phone. Diane was beginning to wonder if he had hung up—or passed out.
‘‘You better tell me about this,’’ he said at last.
Diane heard sounds like he was rearranging himself in his chair, or bed. She explained about waking up to the sound of the police knocking on her door and then falling in the pool of blood.
‘‘It turned out to be Clymene’s blood,’’ Diane told him.
‘‘Clymene’s? I don’t understand. Is she dead?’’ asked Ross.
‘‘She has to be. It was fresh blood and there was too much blood loss for her to still be alive.’’ Diane explained everything she knew about the incident. ‘‘When I heard you had fallen asleep while driving home, it made me wonder if both of us had been drugged at the restaurant. Perhaps someone found it easier to drug both our drinks than to try and make sure I got the tainted drink. That’s always tricky. I’m going to the restaurant to question them now.’’
‘‘Clymene dead? I can’t believe it. What was she doing in your apartment?’’ he said.
‘‘I have no idea,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I don’t understand how she even got in. I didn’t hear anything, nor did any of my neighbors. And the person in the apartment directly below me hears every little footfall.’’
‘‘The newspaper account was wholly inadequate,’’ he said.
‘‘Garnett tries to keep anything to do with the crime lab, in this case me, out of the papers. He usually does a pretty good job.’’
‘‘This is strange. In a bizarre way I’m a little relieved. My wife, Lydia, is convinced that something came loose in my brain. She wants me to take all these tests. If I was drugged . . . well, I actually feel a little better.’’
Diane laughed. ‘‘I’m glad you can see the silver lining in this.’’
‘‘Lydia almost had me convinced, and I was getting a little worried,’’ he said. ‘‘You say they almost arrested you?’’
‘‘That was mostly political. The DA was very upset with me,’’ said Diane. ‘‘And of course I couldn’t account for all that blood in my apartment.’’
‘‘The DA? Oh, I’m sorry, Diane. I didn’t call him,’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘That’s all right. I’m glad you’re safe. I’m also glad you spoke with your FBI friend in art theft about me. I appreciate that.’’
‘‘Shane’s a good guy. Knows a lot about the subject,’’ he said.
‘‘I’ll let you know what I find out from the restaurant staff,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Tell me,’’ asked Ross, ‘‘how are you doing, really? You had a hit on the head, the paper said?’’
‘‘It wasn’t serious.’’ Diane told him about the trip to the hospital and the attack there. She left out what the attacker had said to her about being a dirty dealer. She didn’t know why, except she didn’t want people to start questioning her honesty.
