Human Sacrifice

by Cindy L Hull

  “Did you see any alcohol bottles or prescription drug containers in the room?”

  “I wasn’t there long enough to notice anything. I recorked the bottle and put it on the table. She nearly pushed me out of the room.”

  Salinas raised his eyebrows. “There were two rinsed glasses next to the wine bottle, and some of the wine had evidently been consumed.”

  Jamal looked up sharply. “It wasn’t me.” His eyes shifted back to the bedchamber, as if he hoped Tanya could confirm his statement.

  Salinas sat quietly, thinking of prescription bottles. “Did Tanya have a problem with alcohol or drugs?”

  Jamal considered his words. “She had a problem with prescription drugs, once, but she told me she had conquered the addiction. But this week, I learned she was using again…and drinking.” His eyes widened, and he rose quickly from his chair, his hands clenched. “Are you accusing me of drugging the wine?”

  Sergeant Garza stiffened and rose from her chair, her notebook falling from her lap.

  Salinas put his hand up to Garza and turned to Jamal. “So, you do have a temper. Sit down, Doctor Kennedy.” Salinas turned dark angry eyes on Jamal. “It could have been in the margarita that you gave her.”

  “Absolutely not!” Jamal sat down, but his voice wavered.

  “Did she threaten you? Accuse you of something?”

  He hesitated slightly, remembering their conversation in the market. “No.”

  Salinas looked to his notes and asked, “Did you know that Brad was in Tanya’s hotel room when George went to check up on her?”

  “I just found out tonight.”

  “What did you think when you saw Tanya here?”

  “I thought she’d changed her mind.” He sat up straight as a thought came to him. “She might have been waiting for Brad,” he admitted.

  Salinas remained quiet for a few moments, waiting for this idea to sink in. “If you had known this, would you have been angry?”

  “How could I be? I had broken up with her. But…Brad? He didn’t like her—at least I didn’t think so.”

  “Perhaps she was trying to make you jealous? Or maybe he had more to offer her than you did? That curatorship perhaps?”

  Jamal’s shoulders sagged. “I saw them leave the auditorium together this afternoon after George’s presentation. I didn’t think much of it—we are all colleagues…”

  “But you noticed it, and you’re thinking about it now. Did you think anything of it then?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Thus, the wine?”

  “No…at least I don’t think so. You’re confusing me.”

  Salinas looked at his notes and shuffled pages in front of him. “Speaking of confusion, I would like to settle another matter, while we are talking.”

  Jamal looked up at him, his eyes wide with anticipation. Salinas reached his hand out to the sergeant and she handed him a pile of papers that Jamal recognized as the written statements from that morning. Salinas pulled a statement from the pile and studied it. Jamal braced himself for bad news.

  Salinas handed the statement to Jamal. “I want to review the statement you submitted this morning.” He paused. “You wrote that after breakfast Monday morning, you went to your room to prepare your academic lecture.”

  “Yes. I give a paper on Thursday.”

  “Did you do anything else before or after you worked on your paper?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, let me refresh your memory. After collecting the statements, I talked with various staff members at the hotel. It seems that the fifth-floor maid saw you—in fact she spoke with you.”

  “With me?” Jamal’s gaze flitted from sergeant to detective.

  “It may be true that all gringos look alike to Mexicans, but unfortunately for you, you do not look like the others. The maid reported that a black man came to her cart that morning. He wore a backpack and held a book; he asked if he could put the book in room 505 because it didn’t fit the mail slot at the front desk.”

  Jamal’s mouth went slack. “I had borrowed it…”

  “From Paul? Certainly not Cody.” Salinas saw the distress in Jamal’s face. His mouth contorted.

  Salinas shrugged as if this explanation were perfectly reasonable. He said, “Never mind. The point is that this young black man convinced her to open the room for him. She didn’t stay to watch, a misstep that could cause her to lose her job, but she saw him leave without the book.”

  Jamal pleaded, “I don’t see how this is related to anything, Paul or Tanya.”

  Salinas spoke slowly, as if to a child. “Merida is a large city, but despite American stereotypes of Mexico, it is a safe city. There is little crime, and very few murders. Entonces, when two tourists—both anthropologists attending the same conference—turn up dead, I must consider that these deaths might be related. Either anthropologists are very unlucky in Merida, or they are very unpopular.”

  Jamal slumped once again, his knee wobbled, and his hand went up to his ear. “When Paul talked to us individually, he seemed to know a lot about our research, which is normally a positive characteristic. But in his case, it seemed malicious.” He looked at Garza, who had raised her hand, “a feeling of bad will. He made innuendos—hints—about my research, and I guess about others’ also.”

  “Do you think he was blackmailing you all?”

  “It didn’t feel like blackmail, but he made us uncomfortable.”

  “And your mistake?”

  “N…nothing really…really,” he stammered. “I wanted to check it out. I thought if I could get a quick look at his computer, I could see what he had written about us…especially me.”

  “Did you find it?”

  “I didn’t see it, but I had to hurry because I didn’t know when Cody would be back.”

  “How did you know he wouldn’t be in the room?”

  Jamal swallowed. “He came into the restaurant that morning—yesterday—after we had finished eating. He sat at our table and started rambling on about Paul. I really wanted to leave, so I did. Brad and I both left. I’m not sure how I thought of it, but it occurred to me that I might take advantage of the situation. I knew I had a few minutes, at least.”

  Salinas leaned forward, his hands folded. “You seem to have some trouble with the truth, Doctor Kennedy. Did you also lie about the wine? Did you coax Tanya to drink it? Perhaps put something in it?”

  Jamal jumped from his seat again. “No!”

  “Sit down, Doctor Kennedy,” Salinas said, his voice rising again.

  Jamal sat down. “I didn’t lie about the wine. I wouldn’t give her drugs.” He pressed his lips together. “And I didn’t take the computer. Why do you insist that I did?”

  “Because it is missing.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Salinas watched as Brad Kingsford entered the room, taking his time. He looked toward the bedchamber briefly before sitting across from Salinas. His appearance of professorial chic, his Dockers, polo shirt, and sandals, belied a less confident demeanor. He ran his hands through his graying blond hair, hanging in waves nearly to his shoulder. His eyes darted back and forth between his two inquisitors. As he positioned himself in the chair, Salinas watched his transformation from unease to confidence. He sat straight in the chair, his jaw hardened, and his eyes met those of the detective. He wondered which was the real Brad Kingsford.

  Again, Salinas made introductions. “I am sorry that you have had to wait so long this evening, Doctor Kingsford,” Salinas said.

  “It can’t be helped,” Brad said, shrugging. “We are all stunned.”

  Salinas folded his hands in front of him. “Tell me about the dinner tonight. I understand you ate with Tanya, George, and Jamal.”

  “Yes,” Brad said, and described the meal as did the other men.

>   “Do you know why Tanya ate with the men instead of the women?”

  Brad ran his hand through his hair, thinking. “She said she didn’t feel like going out for dinner. Actually, I’m not sure that she feels comfortable around Madge and Claire.”

  “Why not?”

  Brad shrugged again. “They’ve been friends for a long time. Claire was Madge’s student in graduate school. I think Tanya felt like an outsider.”

  “Does she feel more comfortable with men in general?” Salinas asked.

  “Perhaps.”

  “How did Tanya seem at dinner?”

  “A bit tired. She left the table early with a headache.”

  Salinas paused momentarily. “I understand that you, Doctor Banks, and Doctor Petersen arrived at the reception together.” Salinas observed that Brad relaxed as the questions shifted to the reception. He crossed one ankle over the other knee and sat back in his chair. His description of their arrival matched those of his dinner-mates.

  “We arrived at seven. I met briefly with Doctor Ramirez, then went to the bar for a drink.”

  “Who was at the bar?”

  “People came and went. I sat with Jamal.”

  “Did you see Tanya?”

  “Tanya?” He rubbed his hands on his knee. “She was talking to someone near the stairs, an archaeologist, I believe. She talked to him for a few minutes, then joined us at the bar.”

  “Did she take a drink? I understand wine and margaritas were already prepared.”

  “Jamal asked her if she wanted a margarita, but she shrugged and wandered off. Jamal took a glass from the bar and followed her.”

  “Was there anything unusual about the drink?”

  Brad thought a moment. “Not unusual, but it was near him, and he seemed intent on giving it to her. I took wine and joined George and Eduardo.”

  Salinas asked, “How well did you know Tanya?”

  “Not very well. She wasn’t technically in our department, but she attended meetings of the Mayanist Program.”

  The detective looked at his notes and rubbed his chin. “If you didn’t know her well, why visit her room?”

  Brad’s eyes flashed, and he looked again toward the bedchamber. His hands went to his hair. “She looked ill when she left the dinner table. I thought I would check on her.”

  “Very considerate,” the detective mused, and shifted his focus again. “You were seen walking with Tanya after Doctor Banks’ presentation. You seemed to be friendly, according to at least one witness.”

  “That’s absurd!” Brad protested and brought his index finger up to point at the detective, but changed his mind, letting his hand drop back into his lap. “We happened to leave the auditorium together, as I remember. I don’t even know what we talked about.”

  “Were you setting up a meeting for tonight, in her room?”

  “No, absolutely not.” Brad folded his hands on his knees.

  “So, you went to her room to check on her,” Salinas said.

  “And offer to walk with her to the reception,” Brad said. He switched his posture, placing his ankle over his knee again. “She said she didn’t feel well, so I suggested that she stay in her room.”

  “What did she say to that?”

  “Frankly, she acted confused, like she couldn’t decide, but when George…Doctor Banks arrived, she decided to go, and we all left together.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual in her room?”

  “Well, I had not been in her room before, so I would hardly know what might be unusual.”

  “Alcohol, prescription drugs…?” Salinas prompted.

  “She took a pill from a prescription bottle just as George arrived.”

  “Anything else? Small liquor bottles, like airline or hotel single-serve size bottles?”

  Brad thought. “No, I don’t remember seeing any.”

  “Did you notice a bottle of wine?”

  “Yes, I think I did.”

  “Did you share wine with her, or see her drink from the bottle?”

  “No.” He sat upright. “Why?”

  Salinas ignored his question and took him back to the reception. “Did you see Mr. Detwyler at the reception?”

  “Cody? Yes, and I wondered why he was there. He was not part of the conference and certainly not invited.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Someone said he went upstairs to talk with you.”

  Brad frowned. “That’s right. He apologized for crashing the party. I guess he thought it would be okay to come.”

  “Did you see him talk to Tanya?”

  “No.”

  Salinas looked at his notes. “Did you see Miss Lorenzo take Tanya into the bedchamber?”

  “No, but I saw Laura with the docent in the sitting room and wondered why he followed her into the bedchamber. When Freddy returned to the sitting room, he told me that “la profesora rubia” was in the bed, resting.”

  “Is that when you went in?”

  “Yes. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them when she heard me come in.”

  “Did she say anything to you?”

  “I offered to take her to the hotel, but she declined. When Jamal entered, I left so they could talk privately.”

  “Did you go back into the chamber at any time this evening?”

  Brad’s eyes flickered toward the room again and he rubbed his hands together nervously. “Yes, I did. I looked in there once more, around eight o’clock. She was sleeping, or I thought she was sleeping.”

  “Did you see a water glass on the table or floor?”

  “No.”

  “Which door did you enter from, the second time?”

  “The sitting room door, both times.”

  “Can you account for your actions during the evening?”

  “Every minute? I moved around…it’s a reception…that’s what people do.”

  “Did you spend time in the parlor with George, for example?”

  “No, not really. I guess I spent more time in the sitting room and courtyard.”

  “Did Doctor Ramirez know she was sleeping in the bedchamber?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him during the evening.”

  Salinas folded his hands on the table. “Did you know that the dagger had been taken from the Exhibit Room?”

  He sighed in frustration. “Not until tonight. Madge told me. We were horrified when we learned it had been used to kill Tanya.”

  “That has not been determined yet,” Salinas said carefully.

  “What do you mean?” Brad shifted positions, his knee bouncing again.

  “Just that. She may have had drugs in her system,” Salinas said. “Did you see Cody Detwyler leave the reception?”

  “No.”

  “Did you see him go into either of the rooms that connect with the bedchamber?”

  Brad relaxed his shoulders and took a deep breath. “No, but he could have.”

  Salinas sat back, watching Brad. “You can leave, Doctor Kingsford. I will be requiring Doctor Ramirez next.”

  After Brad left, Garza shook her head. “They are a nervous bunch.”

  Salinas stood. “They should be.”

  “Coffee, sir?”

  “Please. And bring Doctor Ramirez back with you.” He stretched his back and rolled his shoulders. “Be alert with him, Rosa. We’ll speak in Spanish.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Unlike Bradley Kingsford’s professorial persona, his friend, Doctor Eduardo Ramirez, cultivated the aura of the executive entering his personal conference room. The host of the evening’s event, Ramirez wore a navy-blue suit with pale-pink shirt, striped tie, and black wingtips.

  Sergeant Garza sighed gratefully as the conver
sation proceeded in Spanish. After introductions and a request for his background, Salinas asked Ramirez to describe his relationship with Keane College.

  “I understand that you have contributed items from your collection to the Keane College program and museum. I imagine that Doctor Kingsford and his colleagues in the Mayanist Program appreciate this very much,” Salinas posed, as much a question as a statement.

  “I’m sure they do.”

  “Have you become acquainted with the Keane College faculty during this conference?”

  “To some extent, yes.”

  “Can you expand?”

  Ramirez examined his hands and folded them in his lap. “I’ve gotten to know Jamal best, I think, because he works closely with Brad. I don’t know the others very well.”

  “You haven’t met with Doctor Carmichael, the curator of the museum?”

  “Not formally, not yet.”

  “It seems to me that you would be working closely with her.”

  Eduardo picked a piece of invisible lint off his pant leg. “I’m sure that once I start sending our artifacts, she will be directly involved.”

  “Can you describe your movements during the evening?”

  “Are you kidding? I am the host. I circulated.”

  “Yet you didn’t know someone was sleeping, possibly dying in the bedchamber?”

  “Guests weren’t allowed there. Now I learn there was a veritable parade of anthropologists in and out.”

  “When did you realize that something serious had happened?”

  “When I heard the ambulance.” Eduardo sat back in the chair and crossed his legs.

  “Where were you when you heard the ambulance?”

  “It was just after Doctor Aguila and I went outside to talk.” Eduardo raised his eyebrows.

  Salinas tipped his head slightly and asked, “How did this conversation with Doctor Aguila come about?”

  “I wanted a cigarette and asked her to join me. I didn’t know her well and wanted to chat with her.”

  “And what did you talk about?”

  Eduardo smiled again. “Is that important to your investigation?”

  “I honestly don’t know what might be important at this point in my investigation.” Salinas looked briefly at Sergeant Garza.