As Beach Road turned into the Coast Road and began to climb up and out of town, Eulalie shifted around in her seat.
“This is the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been in my life,” she said over the sound of the rushing wind. “And I’ve slept in trees.”
Chief Macgregor smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “The 1963 E-type Jaguar is not known for its comfortable seats. But if you tell me you don’t feel just a little tingle, I won’t believe you.”
Eulalie cut her eyes to his big forearms and muscular thighs and had to admit that she did feel a tingle.
She knew he had bought the car in poor condition a few years earlier and had been working on bringing it back into shape one part at a time.
“What’s that thing you’re doing with the gears?” she asked as they approached a hairpin bend.
“It’s called double declutching. The synchromesh of the gears is too narrow so you have to increase the revs when you change from third gear down to second.”
Eulalie had never driven stick in her life and didn’t have much of a clue what he was talking about. But she liked the enthusiasm in his voice, and the absorption with which he drove his pride and joy.
They turned up Cliff Road towards Edward Heights, which involved even more double declutching, and coming to a complete halt before first gear could be engaged. Then they were pulling up into the gravel driveway of the Egger’s house and waving to Mark Egger who was waiting for them. It was barely eight, which was when he normally left for the factory. Chief Macgregor had asked him to be present while they conducted their search.
“What exactly are you’re looking for?” he asked as he led them up the stairs.
“Do you happen to know if your wife took sleeping pills, Mr. Egger?”
“Only herbal ones. Something with melatonin in them to restore her circadian rhythms. Your crime scene people already photographed them. Why?”
“And are you aware of any other prescription medication she may have been taking?”
“I think she was on folic acid for the baby,” he said. “What’s this all about? And why are you two together anyway? You don’t work together.”
“Ms. Park came across some information in the course of her investigation that she felt obliged to bring to my attention. We’d like to take a look in your wife’s bedside cabinet, if that’s all right.”
He was clearly uneasy, but he agreed. If his wife had been a habitual pill taker, it seemed he genuinely wasn’t aware of it.
“This pedestal?” Chief Macgregor asked Eulalie, kneeling next to Emma’s side of the bed.
She nodded.
He opened the little door and looked inside.
“There’s a sliding panel at the back,” she said. “Feel for a little catch on the right.”
“I’m not getting anything.”
Eulalie winced. What if it had been a normal dream after all? What if her intuition had failed her? She could handle looking like an idiot in front of Chief Macgregor, but to embarrass herself in front of a client would be mortifying and probably lead to the immediate cancellation of her contract.
“It’s near the bottom,” she said.
“I still can’t feel… oh, wait. Here it is.”
He paused to slip on a thin cotton glove that he’d been carrying in his pocket. Then they heard a scraping sound as the panel was pushed back. Chief Macgregor took out a clutch of pill bottles and laid them on the bed.
“Pethidine, Oxycontin, Ambien, Valium. These are highly scheduled prescription drugs, Mr. Egger. They should not be taken in conjunction with each other, and certainly not by a pregnant woman.”
Mark Egger just stared at the collection of bottles on the bed.
“What? How? I don’t understand. The autopsy… you didn’t say anything about drugs. How could she have been taking all this stuff and you didn’t even pick it up?”
“She hadn’t taken anything for a few days,” said Eulalie, as a slight shiver ran through her body. Seeing the pills in real life was bringing back that feeling from her dream – that terrible craving for pills. “She was worried about what it would do to the baby. She was still taking the Ambien though, because she knew she had no chance of sleeping without it.”
“How do you know all this?” demanded Mark. “Who is your source?”
“I heard it on the streets while I was investigating your theory about the outside intruder.”
“You must also remember, Mr. Egger, that we only get the full tox screen back after three weeks,” Chief Macgregor explained. “So, while preliminary reports suggested that your wife had no narcotics in her bloodstream at the moment of her death, the tox screen will pick up more long-term use.”
“Mr. Egger,” said Eulalie. “Did you honestly have no idea that your wife was using prescription drugs?”
“No, I tell you! How would I? She was always so competent. She was always on top of things.”
“Did you never notice changes in her mood? Dilated pupils? Changes in skin color? There might have been times when she was tense and snappy, and then a while later she would have been smiley and relaxed again.”
“Well, sure, but that’s just women, isn’t it? They’re always moody and changeable. My first wife Mary certainly was. I mean, now that you mention it, when things were getting on top of Emma, she used to come up to her bedroom for what she called ‘a little breather,’ and when she came back down again she was always much more relaxed. Are you telling me she was popping pills this whole time?”
“Almost certainly, yes.”
“Mr. Egger, who was your wife’s doctor?” asked Chief Macgregor.
“Our family doctor, of course. Dr. Jaspan. He was going to refer her to an ob-gyn to see her through pregnancy, because the one who delivered her boys has retired. He would never have prescribed these drugs. He didn’t even approve of antihistamines because they make you drowsy.”
Eulalie looked carefully at the pill bottles. The labels were printed, and computer generated. They were made out to Mrs. E. Egger. They even included dosage directions, which amounted to ‘take two a day after meals.’ Each pill had the same dosage directions. She knew that couldn’t be right. Taking two Ambien a day after meals would turn you into a zombie.
Each pill bottle had the name of its contents printed in large convenient letters, so that a lady over the age of forty would be able to tell them apart at a glance.
“Could she have ordered them off the internet?” she asked.
“I was wondering about that,” said Chief Macgregor. “They are issued in her married name, so they are no more than two months old.” He tossed them into an evidence bag, which he sealed, labeled, and signed. “The street value of these pills is very high. We’re talking thousands of dollars. Did your wife have access to that kind of cash, Mr. Egger?”
Mark’s eyes shifted under the steady scrutiny of the chief of police. “It’s complicated. The wives sign a lot of their expenses through the company, but they have to keep all their receipts. They are allowed a certain amount of pin money, but not to this extent.”
“Did she not come into the marriage with money of her own?” Eulalie asked. The concept of ‘pin money’ for wives sounded positively Victorian.
“Not really. There was the monthly alimony from her ex-husband, but she used to spend it each month. And anyway, it stopped when she married me. Then there were the maintenance payments for the kids. But Michael, that’s her ex, was a tight-fisted bastard. He used to pay most things for the kids directly, like their school fees, extra coaching, travel to and from St. Michael’s Cay, that sort of thing. He never trusted her with money. That’s part of why their marriage ended.”
“I’ll take these bottles back with me to see if we can trace their source,” said Chief Macgregor.
Mark just nodded.
“Chin up, Mr. Egger,” said Eulalie. “This gives us another line to tug in your theory that it was an outside intruder who killed your wife.”
“You’re r
ight. Of course, you are. That’s an encouraging thought. I knew it wasn’t someone in the family.”
“Your wife’s electronic devices have all been returned to you by the police, haven’t they?” Eulalie asked.
Mark nodded. “They told me they didn’t find anything useful. We never suspected that Emma’s online activity might have led to her death, but now, with all these pills ...”
“Would you mind if I came back later and took a look at her devices?” Eulalie asked.
“Sure,” Mark said tiredly. “That’s fine. I have to go to work now anyway. I’m late.”
Chapter 11
Two hours later, Eulalie was back in the turret bedroom sitting at Emma Egger’s pretty French Provincial desk and snooping through her electronic devices.
There was a laptop, an iPad, an iPhone, a Garmin GPS from her car, and a Fitbit wearable device. Nothing unusual for a woman of her age and status.
Eulalie was pleased to see that the police had not deleted anything. Nor, it seemed, had Emma herself. Her internet search history stretched back ten months to when she had bought the laptop. Her email inbox was intact too, also going back ten months. It made Eulalie’s task easier. Also helpful was the high-speed Wi-Fi that the Egger house was equipped with.
Ideally, she would have liked to look at Mark Egger’s devices in conjunction with his wife’s, but the police had already done that and found nothing suspicious. She knew that a request to examine his devices would result in an immediate termination of her contract.
It was possible to trace the history of Mark and Emma’s courtship through Emma’s internet searches. When their relationship was still new, she had googled, ‘How long should you keep a man waiting for sex?’ Then it was, ‘How do I get his kids to like me?’ Then, ‘How to make him propose?’
This was followed by an absolute slew of searches on how to have the most elegant engagement party of all time. There were dozens of emails to party planners and caterers and graphic designers.
Once the engagement party was out of the way, her interests had turned to architecture and interior design. Mark Egger was lucky he had got away with a mere $17 million for the renovation. If Emma had had her way, it would have been more like $25 million. And Eulalie knew she had never given up on the elevator idea. One particularly telling search was, ‘How to turn the house he lived in with his late wife into your own space?’ Eulalie wasn’t sure whether the internet had recommended a total scorched-earth policy, but that was what Emma had decided on.
Her most recent searches were about elevators in private houses and, ‘How to convince your husband to spend more money?’
Apart from these general preoccupations, Eulalie found some interesting nuggets. There was an email from Emma Egger to her ex-husband.
Hi Michael,
Please can you pay Jayden’s violin fees directly into my bank account for this term and I’ll pass them on to the violin teacher. He’s in the process of changing banks, so he’s asked us all to give him cash for the term. Thanks, babe!
Emz xxx
This was followed by a reply that was both short and to the point.
Nice try, bitch.
I paid the violin fees in advance for the whole year. I don’t know what you need money for, but I’m sure your rich boyfriend would give it to you if you asked nicely enough.
Emma Egger (or Emma Hagan as she still was at the time) ended off the correspondence with a flourish.
I hope you get cancer and die.
Eulalie made a note of the interaction. It was the usual give and take between a couple of not particularly friendly exes, but it did hint at something that Emma had needed money for.
Eulalie thought back to the murder book. She seemed to remember that the ex-husband had a cast-iron alibi. He had been off-island at the time - travelling on business. At the time of the murder, he had been in a public place where at least a hundred people could testify to having seen him.
Nevertheless, it might be worth paying him a visit. He and Emma had been married for seven years. The chances were good that he knew her better than her second husband who had known her for less than a year.
Also interesting was a text message thread between Emma and Priscilla Bosworth. It had taken place a few months earlier, before Mark and Emma had got married, and while they were still renovating the house.
Priscilla: Hi Emma! Priscilla here again. So happy to hear you and Mark are engaged. We wish you every happiness. Regarding that thing we talked about when we first met, there are some special things in the house that belonged to Mary that came down to her from our late mother. Just a few items of sentimental value. I know Mark doesn’t want them and the girls aren’t old enough to appreciate them yet. Do you think if I told you which ones they were, you could put them aside for me for the next time I’m on-island?
Emma: Of course, Prissy. Anything you like. It’s not like I’m busy planning a wedding or anything! LOL!! Send me a list and I’ll put them to one side for you.
Priscilla: Thanx so much! Here it is –
Antique bone-handled brush-and-comb set with mother of pearl inlays,
Dresden Shepherdess figurine in blue and white,
Child’s music box in rosewood,
Framed photograph of Mary and me as children with our mother on the beach,
Antique wooden nodding dog
If you could put those away in a cupboard for me for a few months, I’d be very grateful.
Emma:So sorry, babes! We might be able to find the photograph, but the other items seem to be gone. Mark says he thinks Mary sold them before she died.
Priscilla: Please could you look again? Mary definitely did not sell them before she died. I saw them in the house on the day of the funeral, but it didn’t seem right to take them then. It’s a big house. Perhaps you overlooked them.
Emma: Soz! Looked everywhere. They not here. Will give you photo next time I see you.
Priscilla: I’ll ask Mark about them. Perhaps he will be able to recognize them.
Emma: Ask away! He looked this morning and they were gone.
Eulalie checked Emma’s internet history for those dates and saw that she had done reverse-image searches for the brush and comb set, the shepherdess, the music box, and the wooden nodding dog. She had researched their value on the Sotheby’s auction site. She had searched for similar items on eBay. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she had taken the items herself, and either sold them immediately or put them somewhere to be sold later. She was prepared to give Priscilla the photo in its frame because it had no monetary value.
This was undoubtedly strange behavior for a woman who was about to marry into one of the wealthiest families on Prince William Island. It suggested a need for money that she didn’t want her fiancé to know about.
Eulalie made a note of the following internet searches: ‘How did Heath Ledger die?’ ‘Should I stop sleeping pills when I’m trying to fall pregnant?’ ‘Taking uppers and downers together.’ ‘Effects of prescription drugs on six-week-old fetus.’
All this confirmed what they already knew – that Emma Egger had been addicted to pills. It gave no indication of where she had been getting those pills. The internet didn’t seem to be her source. She had never googled how to buy any sort of drug and there were no such transactions anywhere in her online activity.
It was possible that she’d had another device that no one knew anything about, but Eulalie didn’t think so. It had never occurred to her to clear her internet search history or to delete any emails. A person like that would not be good at hiding her digital footprint.
All the evidence pointed to her having sourced her pills from somewhere in Queen’s Town. That gave Eulalie a chance to do the job she was being paid for – to investigate the possibility that an outsider had come into the Egger household and murdered Emma.
Eulalie picked up lunch from a food truck and ate it at her desk. She sent Chief Macgregor an email detailing the results of her investigation
into Emma’s electronic devices.
Then she sent one to Mark Egger, mentioning that there were indications Emma had been trying to make extra money, but didn’t enumerate the methods she had used. She let both men know that her next step would be to investigate the possibility of a source in town for the pills. She asked Mark for a letter of introduction to Dr. Jaspan, and written permission for him to disclose Emma’s medical history to Eulalie.
It took so long for him to respond, she began to think he would refuse.
But eventually the letter arrived, and she was able to phone Dr. Jaspan’s rooms. His receptionist agreed to let Eulalie see him before he started his afternoon consultations, but only if she could get there within the next ten minutes. She grabbed her messenger bag and raced out the door to make sure that she did.
Dr. Jaspan’s practice was in an old house on one of the side streets that stretched between Lafayette Drive and Beach Road. It had a well-established feel to it, with a mature garden and an air of prosperity. Eulalie took a bet with herself that Dr. Jaspan would not be a young man.
She won the bet a few minutes later when his receptionist ushered her into his consulting room. Dr. Jaspan was about sixty with silvery hair and mild blue eyes. He studied the letter Eulalie presented to him. Then he picked up the phone and called Mark himself to confirm that its contents were genuine. Thereafter his manner thawed a little and he asked how he could help.
“Mark Egger has hired me to conduct an investigation into the death of his wife,” Eulalie explained. “It is to run parallel to the official police investigation, and to concentrate particularly on the possibility that Mrs. Egger was killed by an outside intruder. However, Mr. Egger has authorized me to explore other avenues if necessary. We recently came across these pill bottles in Mrs. Egger’s bedside cabinet and wondered if you had any idea where she could have obtained them?”
The Complete H-Series of The Eulalie Park Mysteries Page 31
