expression he will interpret it as my disappointment over the fact that Hurley won’t be coming.
Richmond shows up twenty minutes later, just as we’re getting ready to open Minniver’s skull, and as he enters the autopsy room a faint scent of frying oil wafts in with him, offering us a brief reprieve from the less savory chemical and bodily smells that typically permeate our air. Richmond is wearing a white shirt and blue tie, the former stained with what looks like a big glob of ketchup. Of course, given that Richmond is a homicide detective, it could be something else.
“Way to ruin a Saturday afternoon,” Richmond grumbles.
“I’m guessing this fellow feels the same way,” I say, gesturing toward Minniver’s body.
Richmond has the good sense to look embarrassed for all of five seconds but it’s long enough for Izzy to turn on the bone saw and drown out any further comment for the time being.
“So what makes you think this guy is a homicide?” Richmond says when Izzy finishes cutting through the skull and sets the bone saw aside. “And what’s the cause of death?”
“Well,” Izzy says, “there’s no evidence of any natural cause of death so far and Mattie detected the scent of bitter almonds when we were dissecting his organs. While it’s still an educated guess at this point, the smell combined with our other findings make me suspect the man was poisoned with cyanide. We’ll know for sure once the lab tests are done.”
“Cyanide?” Richmond scoffs. “Seriously? Or has someone been reading too many mystery novels lately?” He makes a pointed look in my direction.
“I’m very serious,” Izzy says, scowling. I’m beginning to suspect he likes Richmond about as much as I do. “I don’t joke about evidence.”
Richmond makes a face but doesn’t pursue his doubting Thomas attitude. Instead he asks, “Any idea how the cyanide might have gotten into his system?”
“The odor was strongest in his stomach so I’m guessing he ingested it,” Izzy says.
I nod my agreement. “I went through his house last night with Colbert. We found a half-eaten meal on the table. It looks like whatever happened to him did so during his dinner.”
“I don’t suppose you collected any of the food,” Richmond says, casting a doubtful look my way.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” I say, trying not to look or sound too smug.
Richmond grunts and I take it for his version of grudging approval. “Is the guy married?” he asks.
“No, he’s a widower. He has a daughter named Patricia Nottingham who lives across town.”
“Does he have a shitload of money?”
I shrug, as does Izzy. “I doubt it, based on the way he was living,” I say, “but even if he was rich, the daughter doesn’t strike me as the killer type.”
Richmond looks amused. “Considering that Hurley was nearly done in thanks to your supposed ability to recognize a killer, you’ll understand why I might want to reserve judgment for now.”
If looks could kill, Richmond would be heaped on one of the autopsy tables right now, assuming we could find a skid loader to hoist him onto it.
“Poisoning is typically a pretty personal method of killing someone,” Richmond goes on, ignoring my glare. “Know of anyone else in his life who was close to him?”
Izzy and I both shake our heads. I stop glaring at Richmond and turn away so he can’t see the expression on my face. Richmond might be irritating and semiretired, but I’ve heard that he’s also a decent detective and that means he’s good at reading people. I don’t want to give him any opportunities to read me.
“We just got this case last evening,” Izzy explains in our defense. “The gentleman was brought into the ER as a PNB and had a cardiac history. We thought initially is was a natural death.”
“But there’s no indication his heart was the cause?” Richmond asks.
Izzy shakes his head. “Nope, absolutely none.” He gestures toward the partially dissected brain on his side of the table. “And this was the last place I had to look for an alternate cause. There is no evidence at all at this point that any natural disease process led to this man’s death.”
Richmond frowns. “How soon can you confirm the cyanide theory?”
“We have a rapid test we can do here. If it’s positive it will be enough combined with the history and symptomology we’ve obtained for me to make a presumptive call. But the rapid test can give false positive results on rare occasions, so to get a definitive answer I’ll have to send samples off to Madison for testing. It will take a couple of days to get those results.”
A grumbling sound emanates from Richmond and I’m not sure if he’s vocalizing something, or if it’s just his stomach rumbling. “So how long is this rapid test gonna take?” he asks.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll have an answer for you.” Izzy takes a sample of the stomach contents and leaves the autopsy room. Richmond is right on his heels, leaving me alone with Minniver’s body. I look at him lying there, his body flayed open, his scalp turned inside out and pulled down over his face, his brain pan empty. It reminds me of what I said to his daughter, about how an autopsy is a dignified process, much like a surgery. I can’t help but wonder what she would think if she knew the reality.
I finish collecting and labeling my samples and both Izzy and Richmond return just as I’m finishing.
“The rapid test was positive,” Izzy announces.
Richmond nods. “I had dispatch call this Nottingham woman. She’s at home so I’m going to go over there and talk with her, see what I can dredge up. You want to come along to let her know the results?” Richmond asks Izzy. “I already delivered a death notice to the Dunkirk woman’s family this weekend and I don’t relish having to do it again.”
“I’ll do it,” I offer. When Izzy shoots me a surprised look I add, “Well, I spoke with the daughter last night so I already have a rapport with her. Plus it
“Is it something you’re comfortable doing?” Izzy asks.
I shrug. “Those kinds of discussions are never comfortable, but I’ve done it enough times as a nurse that I’m used to it.”
Izzy nods and says, “Okay then. I’ll close up Mr. Minniver here and finish the paperwork.”
Richmond blows out a huge sigh that fills the air with the faint scent of fried onions. I can’t tell if he’s miffed that I’ll be going with him or not. “How soon can you be ready to go?” he asks me.
“Give me half an hour or so.”
Richmond glances at his watch. “You have an hour,” he says. “Meet me at the station at two o’clock and we’ll ride over to the daughter’s house together.” He starts to leave but then turns back. “And we’re taking my car,” he adds pointedly. “I’m not showing up there with a frigging hearse in tow.”
“Fine,” I say, trying to sound cheerful. Though I’m not looking forward to having to spend time with Richmond, in order to keep tabs on the investigation and determine the degree of Hurley’s involvement, I feel like I should be in on as much of it as possible. So I need to stay on Richmond’s good side.
As Richmond turns to leave, he delivers a parting speech. “I’ll get some guys to search Minniver’s house and look into his life more thoroughly to see what else we can find out about him. But I’m telling you, poisoning is personal. I’m betting we don’t have to look far.”
I spend another few minutes helping Izzy and then head for the shower to get cleaned up. By the time I’m done I’ve got twenty-five minutes to spare and the police station is only a one-minute walk away, so I decide to use the extra time by doing a bit of research. I head for the library computer where a quick search of cyanide reveals all kinds of intriguing information, including the fact that it is often used in metallurgy work and electroplating.
This revelation sends a chill down my spine as I once again recall Hurley’s garage workshop and his metalwork hobby. Then I hear Richmond’s voice in my head, warning me that poisoning is personal. So far, all the fingers in this case are pointing firmly at Hurley.
As guilt over not telling Izzy what I know washes over me, I reach a decision and head for his office.
Chapter 12
My good intentions are thwarted by two things. The first is the fact that I can’t find Izzy in either his office or the autopsy room. The second is a call on my cell phone.
At first I think it might be Richmond but when I look at the caller ID, I see it’s Hurley. I hesitate, debating for
