Like a Fly on the Wall

by Simone Kelly

  One headline read, THE HEALTHY GUIDE TO A TOXIC-FREE STUDIO. She’d highlighted various chemicals. Seemed normal. She had an art studio and children. Maybe she didn’t want to breathe in the dangerous fumes daily.

  The next one . . . well, disturbed me. My throat actually got tight and my mouth got dry. I was a bit taken aback. I figured I’d read it all before I made any assumptions. I kept my mouth shut and tried to read through it without blurting something out to Jacques, but deep down I already felt his mom was evil. The article said . . .

  The Top 10 Undetectable Poisons

  * * *

  There were a few things on the list that I knew for a fact were detectable now by medical examiners, but it was an old article, so that made sense. Science might not have been up to speed yet. What startled me most was what she was highlighting.

  On the list of ten poisons, she’d underlined number three.

  No. #3: Antifreeze

  * * *

  antifreeze poisoning is a fairly common occurrence with regards to poisoning—both accidental and intentional. Ingestion is the main path of entry into the body. Due to its sweet taste, antifreeze from leaking radiators or spilled bottles are quickly consumed by household pets (like dogs and cats). When mixed with alcoholic drinks it can easily be missed.

  Signs and Symptoms of Antifreeze Poisoning

  Nausea

  Vomiting

  Abdominal pain

  Frequent and/or painful urination

  Kidney pain and eventually kidney failure

  Dizziness

  Stupor similar to intoxication (drunkenness)

  Shortness of breath (dyspnea)

  Rapid breathing (tachypnea)

  Diminished reflexes

  Muscle spasms (cramps) and twitching

  Partial or complete paralysis of certain body parts

  Pancreatitis

  Metabolic acidosis

  Blindness

  Seizures

  Low levels of calcium

  The article discussed how antifreeze poisoning was one of the worst ways to be murdered because, though many poisonings were slow, even a cupful could take a person out in a few days and the victim wouldn’t see it coming.

  In addition to antifreeze, the article covered rat poison, arsenic, and potassium chloride. I mean, wow . . . What. The. Fuck. This couldn’t be real. It felt like an episode of Snapped, which features women who lose it and start killing off husbands and everyone in their way.

  I wondered if they exhumed the body, after twenty-something years, could a toxicologist check it for poison to confirm and let Jacques know for sure? I didn’t even think we needed to go any further. The cause of death seemed obvious to me, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

  I broke the silence, startling him. “Jacques, was your dad buried in New York or Morocco?”

  “He was cremated in New York City. It was a big deal, too. Muslims don’t normally cremate. I found out as a teen that my aunts on my dad’s side were very upset about that. They went off on my mother from what I heard.”

  “Oh noooo!” My fears were probably correct.

  “What? What did you find?”

  I handed him the antifreeze article first. He took a minute to review it. “This . . . this does not look good.” He sat back down on the couch and took a sip of his tea while reading it. “First off, she didn’t have a car, so there was no reason for her to have antifreeze.”

  “No, it doesn’t sit right with me, either. That underlining shit is what does it for me. What do you feel? Your peeps aren’t saying anything to you?”

  He closed his eyes, tilted his head to the left, and took a deep breath. A tear came out of his eye and he quickly wiped it away.

  “They said it was a well-thought-out plan.”

  “They?”

  “My spirit guides, or my peeps, as you say.” He managed to crack a smile. “I knew, but I guess I didn’t want to believe she could do something that cold. That calculated. I mean, he wasn’t hurting her, beating her. He wasn’t cruel to her. Maybe a bit controlling, but to have been poisoning him? Maybe for weeks or months? She fed him, made his coffee, poured his wine and beer. To think someone you love, the mother of your kids—well, kid—who you trust, could turn around and do that shit.”

  Suddenly he jumped up like he had springs. “Oh my goodness, my goodness! It was there all along. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. He was trying to tell me all this time!”

  I was so confused by his excitement. “What? Who?”

  “My dad. For years, I mean years, I had recurring visions and dreams. He always came with the same things. His coffee cup—it was his favorite New York Giants mug—and my mother’s monogrammed Bible. How could I miss this? This is incredible!” He grabbed his head.

  “So, what does that mean? The dreams? I’m sorry, but I’m lost.”

  He was very excited. “The Bible is what led me to Benny and how we learned that Hicham is his son. My dad didn’t have a Bible, the Bible he was holding was symbolic. It just was a small clue to this big puzzle.”

  “This coffee cup was how she poisoned him maybe?”

  “Yes, yes! It just makes sense. I can’t believe all this time . . . all this time she chastised me for living my life as a psychic and she had all these secrets but this . . . this is so fucked up!” He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “I know she must have been scared of what I knew or what I would find out as a kid. It’s no wonder she always shamed me out of expanding my gift of intuition. I want to speak to Benny. If anyone knows anything he does.”

  “You think he helped her?”

  “I did before but not now. His spirit is pretty clear, he’s very genuine. I can see how unhappy he is and how remorseful he is for everything we’re going through.”

  “I’m sorry, I know that was your mom, but to poison someone and see them every day. That’s pretty fucked up. How diabolical.”

  His voice cracked and tears started to slowly stream out of his eyes. “She took my father’s life. He was only forty-one years old. How could someone do that to another human being? Divorce him, leave him, but kill him? Why?” He sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Excuse me.” He rushed to the bedroom.

  I felt a bit shaken up. The air was thick. I took a deep breath and said a quick prayer for him. It was almost ten P.M. when I heard a key jiggling and the front door opened slowly.

  A beautiful Latina walked in. She reminded me of Rosario Dawson, but she was taller—about five nine or five ten—and a little bit browner. Gray pants suit, light makeup, and her hair in a bun. She looked tired.

  She attempted a smile. Almost as if she’d forgotten I was here. “Hi there, you must be Kylie.”

  I got up to greet her. “Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you, Vicky.” She reached out her hand and I hugged her.

  “Okay, a hugger,” she said, a bit shocked, and raised her eyebrows. She took off her jacket. Her gun was still on her hip.

  “Yes, handshakes are for business meetings, girl.” More softly, I said, “Jacques is in the back. A bit shaken up.”

  She leaned in, creases of concern forming on her forehead. “Why? What happened?”

  I sighed. “Not sure if it’s my place. We just found out some mind-blowing shit. He’ll tell you.” I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news.

  She dropped her bag and raced to the back, calling, “Papiiiii, I’m home.”

  I heard the bedroom door squeak open and then close. Ten minutes later they both came out slowly. Jacques had a blank look on his face. Vicky had changed into cream leggings and a dark loose sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder. Okay, she was really, really pretty. I gotta give her props. She released her bun and her hair was flowing and shiny down her back, like she was in a shampoo commercial.

  Jacques sat down across from me. “Kylie, I really want to thank you. Sorry I kinda lost it.”

  “Oh nooo. You are under a lot of stress. No problem. I hope you got some closu
re.”

  Vicky chimed in, rubbing his shoulders. “You should probably talk to Benny for some more confirmation on things your mom wrote about. Maybe he knows something. Heard something? You never know.”

  I said, “We can still see if there are any medical records.”

  Vicky said, “Yes, maybe the medical examiner’s report?”

  Jacques replied, “No. I know what I need to do. I need to talk to her myself.”

  I raised my eyebrows and said, “Huh? You mean your friend the medium will help you talk to her?”

  “Yes. I already know the answer, though. Come on, it’s pretty obvious. It’s right here in black-and-white.” He pointed to the journals. Vicky placed her hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it lovingly.

  “Kylie, are you hungry?” Vicky inquired. “I’m about to warm up some salmon.”

  “No, no, I better go.” I was starting to feel like a third wheel. I was itching to talk to Vince and ask him about what we should do. “We didn’t finish, though. There are two journals left.” I put them on the love seat.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll scan through them. I’m sure you both had enough for the night.”

  “So nice to finally meet you and thanks for helping my baby,” Vicky said. “We are celebrating his birthday with a small group of friends this weekend. I’d love for you to join us.”

  “Your birthday?” I said to Jacques.

  “Ahhh, come on, Vicky, I told you I don’t want to make a big deal about it. It’s just another day.”

  “Whatever! You do so much for everyone. Let us do something nice for you for a change,” she said sweetly.

  I stood up and slipped on my sandals by the door. “Of course, I’ll be there. Thanks for inviting me!”

  Vicky squeezed his face to hers like he was a kid and kissed him on the mouth playfully. I had to admit I was a bit jealous. Not really that she was kissing fine-assed Jacques, but that she had someone to love like that. I dreamed of Chauncey or Breeze and me being like that at one point, but who knows what the future will bring.

  It was time to go. They both walked me to the door and we said our last good-byes. “Ciao!” I waved happily, but felt a lump in my throat as I walked off. I hoped Jacques wouldn’t fall apart, and I wondered how Hicham was going to take the news. I was glad Jacques had Vicky; he would need a serious support system now facing his new dark reality.

  Chapter 33

  Jacques

  We were finishing up dinner when Vicky got really quiet and smiled mischievously at me. “Kylie is a cutie. I like her.”

  “Yes, she’s a nice girl.” I tried to play it off.

  “A nice girl? She’s hoooooot. That big hair, long legs, bubbly personality. You wouldn’t be interested in trying it out?” She tilted her head to the side and licked her lips.

  Was this some sort of trick question? Was she saying she wanted a threesome? A nontraditional relationship? Oh, that couldn’t be true. I tried to stay in a safe zone.

  “Trying it out? I have you already. I’m okay in that department. You keep doing what you do.” I pointed down to my crotch and took a sip of juice.

  She kicked me under the table and started laughing. “I think she likes you.”

  “Nah, she has enough men to deal with. I look at her like a little sister. You think I would really have her over here if I thought she had the hots for me? I don’t need any problems. You are a temperamental Latina with a license to kill.”

  She laughed extra loud and said, “As long as you know, papi. As long as you knooooooow!” She held up her glass to me.

  Vicky thinks she so slick trying to trap me. Like I don’t know her already! “See what I mean, threats. Subtle threats. So terrible.” I shook my head. “I might have to work on my will now.”

  I took up the dishes and started filling the dishwasher.

  “Thanks, baby.” Vicky pinched me on the butt as I came near her to get the rest of the dishes.

  “It’s been a long day. Gonna hit the shower and I’ll see you in the bedroom,” I said with a wide smile.

  Vicky sighed. “Give me an hour or so. I want to go through these last two journals for you, so we can be done with it.” She put her hair up in a ponytail. That meant she was about to get to work.

  “Knock yourself out. I’ve had enough. I don’t know how I am going to sleep tonight. My chest is physically hurting from all this shit. My heart chakra.”

  “Don’t worry about any of that.” She rubbed my chest gently. “I’ll help you get to sleep.” She laughed and blew a kiss as she headed to the living room.

  After my shower, Vicky was in the bedroom waiting for me, but she was still reading the journals. She said, “Jacques, you have to read this. This was the last journal. The other one didn’t have much in there but church notes and design ideas sketched out.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “Just read it.” She reached for the nightstand light, turned it on, and pulled down the comforter for me.

  I took a deep breath and got under the covers with her and began to read it.

  April 29th

  His health is declining rapidly. I didn’t really want to see him go like this. Not like this. He has been so nice to me, so kind, loving . . . like the Olivier I knew over eight years ago when we first fell in love. I know he realized that I don’t love him anymore. He is sick and I am all he has. He went to the doctor’s and they can’t seem to pinpoint what was wrong. It all happened so fast. But thank goodness, I don’t want him to suffer too much. I can’t turn back the hands of time now.

  I wonder if it’s too late to just leave peacefully? Still, I know Olivier would never let me leave without a fight. He would want to battle me for the kids. Even though he has hinted that Hicham doesn’t look like him and jokes that I got pregnant from an old Paris boyfriend who came to town. He doesn’t really know, but he does joke about it a lot.

  Just yesterday made it worse. Jacques was playing with a puzzle on the living room floor while Olivier was watching football. Jacques yelled out, “Mommy, why doesn’t my brother look like me? I look like Daddy and Hicham looks more like you. Is that so you can share? God made it like that so you can share?”

  I just agreed with him and told him it was God’s way of sharing like he said. MY LORD! The look on Olivier’s face sent chills down my back. And just weeks ago Benny and I had the scare of our lives. For a few weeks I thought I might be pregnant again. I haven’t been intimate with Olivier in over three months, so there would have been no hiding it. We have to be more careful.

  May 1st

  My Olivier is gone. He’s gone. I am starting over. It’s not at all how I imagined.

  “That’s it? She doesn’t write any more after that. That’s it. How priceless, now he is ‘my Olivier.’ This just disgusts me. That is the day he died. May first.”

  Vicky rubbed my hair. “I know, papi.”

  “I am ashamed to even be her son.” I threw the journal to the ground.

  Chapter 34

  Kylie

  I called Vince the second I got in the car.

  “What’s up? You okay?” Vince said in a raspy voice, like he had been asleep.

  “Yes, oh, sorry I didn’t realize it was so late!”

  “Oh, don’t sweat it, Kylie. Keeps my wife on her toes. Makes her think I have a little girlfriend.”

  “Ewww, Vince! Stop it!”

  “What? Not youuuu. She’s asleep anyhow. She is out like a light by nine thirty! So what’s up, kiddo?”

  “Okay, so I think I just solved a case. But I need to know what to do next! Remember the whole Jacques story?” I was excited.

  “Yeah, yeah, did you go through the mom’s diaries already?”

  “Yes, and get this, we found sooooo much stuff. From how unhappy she was, to how she was having an affair. But this . . . this was icing on the cake, I found! She had articles on chemicals and poisons. . . . Undetectable poisons, like antifreeze!”

  “Now, that’s pricel
ess. Why would you save that shit?”

  “She had them in an old storage unit. She probably forgot!”

  “Well, most murderers who are that calculating don’t give a fuck. They think they are invincible . . . untouchable. And she was, she escaped prison all those years.”

  “Yeah, only to die young anyway.”

  “Well, that’s karma. The law of give and take. It always come back to ya,” Vince said sternly.

  “That’s what I always say, karma is a bitch and she knows where you live! It’s just wild! She was so innocent-looking. Jacques showed me her photos and she was so sweet. She lived her life like a devout Catholic woman. Wholesome, even if she had an eccentric artist side to her.”

  Vince shouted, “Never judge a book!”

  “True, so true. Soooo, we know, or at least we feel in our heart of hearts, that she pulled this off on her own. His death certificate said kidney failure in addition to drowning.”

  “Oh yeah, antifreeze will eat up your organs in weeks if not days. What a fucked-up way to die!” Vince said. “If he’s open to it, you can go back to the precinct that did the initial investigation and present your new evidence and they can reopen the case with a new detective. This was over ten years ago or what?”

  “No, twenty-six years!”

  “Oh yeah, I highly doubt you can get much. If a detective reopens the case maybe they can exhume the body and do all the testing to look for traces of poison.”

  “Nope. No can do. He was cremated!”

  “Son of a bitch! She was really covering her tracks. You gotta give it to her. She was kinda smart. But wait, not so fast. If he was going to the doctor they might still have his blood test results on file.”

  “What? Really? That long.”

  “Yes! They wouldn’t have the blood anymore, obviously, but the results might show something consistent with antifreeze poisoning. Okay, well those are your next steps, kiddo. But you know I say follow your gut. So, what’s it saying?”