"Did you know or were you told how much a 'little cash' was Mr. Builtmore," asked Ben.
"Well," as he let a good ten second gap elapse, "In the neighbor hood of a quarter of a million."
Stacy thought Rory was going to fall out of his chair. She herself almost swallowed her tongue. Ben thought this was motive personified. Regardless of what they thought, Doctor Builtmore had a lot of explaining to clear the mounting evidence against him.
How easy would it be to slip a little powder into the chemist mix? It was just too obvious for sure; but it was hard to not look at the evidence and not want to lock him up. Rory said later it was a slam dunk and a done deal. He was ready for their short vacations after each case.
Rory left to call the prosecutor while Doctor Builtmore sat with his head hanging to his chest revealing a shinny circle on top. Stacy went to the restroom leaving Ben to watch over the prime suspect. She was trying to remember the date of the will. And then as she was washing her hands, the date came back to her as being written six months ago. If that was the case, then the good doctor was written out of the will. Could that mean he colluded with someone to speed up the process of the victim's death? An interesting thought, as she wandered back to the interrogation room. Rory was standing outside the room talking to his captain when she walked up.
"The prosecutor Stacy told me we could book him, but maybe it would be best if we let him go and stir in his own juices for a little while. He's probably not a risk to run, but Captain Blaine said he'd put a couple guys on a rotating basis to keep an eye on him."
"Good idea and if he is working with someone in the family, or the caregiver, then maybe he'll make contact with them."
"Let's cut him loose and meanwhile, we can go back to see if that caregiver ever saw any powder meds dumped into a glass of liquid," said Rory.
A Stuttering Caregiver
It was getting close to lunch time when they arrived at the Franks residence. When the door swung open a down trodden Sharon looked at the three detectives who were back again to ask more questions. That look was plainly seen upon her very plain chubby face. She stood back without a word to let them in. "Hello Sharon," said Stacy with a smile on her face. "It must get kind of quiet and lonely round here without the daughters coming and going."
"You're right there. The funeral is tomorrow and Sally came to pick out a nice dress for her mom. Sally told me to stay on if I wanted to for a few more weeks while they made arrangement to move in. Apparently as soon as mother is carted off to the grave, the oldest daughter makes plans for living in the house. I guess I can't blame her. Anyway, I've not much to offer, but tea or coffee. The cupboards are kind of bare. The Debbie daughter came with a box or two and filled it up with things from the storage room."
"Sharon," asked Stacy, "we need to ask a few questions about when Doctor Biltmore came to visit. Now this is important so think before answering: did you ever see the doctor take out of his pocket or anywhere else a paper wrapped powdered medicine. He'd have put it into a glass of liquid and probably gave it stir."
All three were starring at her while she twisted her hands in her lap. Her head was downcast and feet with toes pointed at each other. Stacy thought she was a rather plain sad sack that really lacked a friend to brighten her day or life.
"It all seems so hazy to me detectives. I can see the doctor here, but he was so gruff that he scared the hell out of me. He was always into the kitchen and then back into her bedroom. He'd be giving me orders for this and that."
"What was the: this and that, Sharon," asked Stacy.
"He'd asked for tea and warm milk for Betty. Also he wanted some OJ. I also had to make sure spoons were available on the tray."
"After you delivered everything to him, did he order you to leave the bedroom," asked Ben.
"I'd say every time he visited. He always wanted to be alone with her. Sometimes he'd come to the kitchen and warm up some water in a glass. He'd use the microwave. On those times I'd see him take something out of his pocket and dump into the glass. He always turned his back to me. Why, I've no idea."
"How about Sally or her sister Debbie, did they ever put some powder from a paper into a glass of liquid," asked Stacy.
"Sometimes yes and also the youngest one Beverly was also one of those, but she rarely came by," said Sharon.
"That's it for now," said Stacy. "If you think of anything else, let me know or let us know. You've our cards and even if seems small, call us."
"Wait a minute please---a man came with the doctor about three months ago or so. He was a light brown skin man with a strange accent. He'd a deep voice and after he'd given the doctor a package, I heard him say, 'remember, the exact dosage Doctor' and then he noticed me and shut up. I left as his eyes were full of hatred. He hasn't been back to my knowledge."
Chinese Buffet
As afternoon rolled around, Rory drove into a newly opened Chinese buffet restaurant in nearby Empire. It was a waste of good money according to Stacy as she just couldn't eat enough to justify the price. However, like Ben said: "Rory makes up for it."
After Stacy and Ben sat down, Rory was still grazing the long buffet tables, Stacy said, "That black man must have been the doctor's chemist friend from South Africa."
"That's my guess too," replied Ben. "More and more it seems that Sharon is not on our prime suspect list, but we can't turn her loose quite yet."
"We seem to going around in circles Ben," said Stacy digging into her beef chow yuk.
"Like a pool table, the suspects keep bounding off the rails into the middle of the table. What we need to do is sink the nine ball and end this charade."
Rory had a small mountain of food on two plates. God only knows what lurked near the bottom. For that matter, God only knew what was on the top of the pile. Stacy thought he best just take a blender and be done with it. Up end the container and be on the way to another interview. However, with fork in one hand and spoon in another, he went to work leveling the mountains of food.
"I know I'm a gluten for food. I did promise I'd get a check up and see what the numbers revealed. I'll do that tomorrow or as soon as this case is wrapped up. Meanwhile, I'll lay off the fried foods as much as I can. My scales this morning said I was up two pounds at 224. I feel good at 220. Next time here I'll only get one plate," he said while forking a pile of, what looked chopped up veggies.
"Okay boys, what's our next move. We need to see that chemist dude. If nothing else, it'll let him know we are in his face," said Stacy standing up ready to go.
"I'm ready for some dessert," said Rory with a gleam in his eye towards Stacy.
She raised her eyebrows at the less than a sophisticated remark alluding he wanted her for after dinner. "I've some things to do at home with my father and Fran. They're planning a trip to the Southwest by plane and car. I'll see you guys in the morning. Okay, take me to my SUV please."
On the way home, which only takes around thirty minutes, Stacy was a little disappointed in the way Rory was behaving. It really seemed like he was struggling with the notion of her leaving the coast for Eugene. It was the word 'leaving' that he was hung up on. This was a crucial time for their relationship. If he didn't accept and adjust, then she'd move on without him. As a matter of fact, as she pulled onto her street in Bandon, it might be best to severe the ties before it became complicated. In simple words, Rory Caltex was acting like a teenager who had a crush on a former girlfriend, but he couldn't let go.
Just as she stopped her SUV her cell went off. She saw a number that was not familiar to her. She answered politely and heard Connie's voice saying, "Good evening Stacy. I'm in Portland now and a bit tired, but thought I'd ring you up to see what you're doing."
"Hi Connie. We're in the middle of a murder by poison case. I can't get away right now, but what's your schedule," asked Stacy.
"I'm here in Portland for at least two or three days. After that I'd hoped we could meet in Eugene for a face to face meeting."
"I'm going
to stick my neck out here a little bit Connie. I think we can wrap this case up in a couple of day's time. I never commit myself as to who is the perpetrator before I'm almost a hundred percent sure, but given a break or two, I think we can wrap this homicide up within your time frame," said Stacy.
"I'm not pushing you Stacy. Even though I've pressing business back in DC, this trip out west is very important. As you know the US Marshal Agency has a lot of different responsibilities to take care of. It appears we are requiring more staff here in Portland and up in Seattle. I'll be lucky to meet you in three days. So, do your job and it'll work out for the two of us. I'll call in a day or two to update you on my schedule and check with you on yours."
Stacy found her father and Fran in the kitchen with a laptop on the table using Google Earth checking out the Southwest. "Hello and how's it going," asked Stacy slipping out of her windbreaker.
"We doing good Stacy," said Fran. "The travel agent in Coos Bay has sent us a proposed schedule. She told us that there're many plans to choose from. What we didn't want to do was design our own plan. We're not happy with what she sent us. It looks like an already laid out itinerary for the jet set; not us fifties crew."
"I'll be back in Coos Bay tomorrow. Give me the name of the person and the location of the travel agent. I'll stop by and straighten her out. By after lunch check your inbox for a new senior plan," she said laughing. "I'll be back in a jiffy as I need to change out of these clothes into something really comfortable."
Round and Round We Go
Stacy called Rory the next morning to inform him she'd first go to see Sharon and then meet both at the pharmacy where the chemist hung his shingle. Rory knew better than to ask why, so he just agreed. They'd an appointment for 10 am with the chemist.
Stacy left Bandon at 7:30 expecting to catch Sharon around 8 am. The summer fog was heavy and the going was slow. It was close to 8:30 when she arrived at the victim's house. Sharon answered the door with sleepy eyes wearing a god awful pink house coat. Stacy thought that even if she had a dog, it wouldn't even lay down on the ratted garment with long strings dangling here and there.
"Come in detective. I'll make some tea as I know you don’t drink coffee. Let me wash up first and I'll meet you in the kitchen," said a less than enthusiastic Sharon the caregiver as she crow footed away barefoot to the bathroom.
When she came back, she had changed into a house dress that she commonly wore for housekeeper chores. Stacy had already had the water on the stove coming to a boil. Sharon thanked her and prepared two cups. In a short time she was sitting at the table with her coffee in front and Stacy tea likewise to her.
"Sharon, sorry to have to keep coming back for more questions, but this is a murder case."
"That's alright Stacy. I don't mind. I really like the lady and when nobody was around we had good chats. I got the feeling that she really didn't like her oldest so much. Sally was pushy, demanding and downright rude sometimes."
"I want to ask you about her and specifically about her husband Larry. Was he here often and or how many times did you see him in the last few months?"
"Only a few times did he come here with Sally. We've a small TV as you can see over there," as Sharon pointed to a small shelf with a TV on it. "He'd come in here, crack a beer or something like that to drink and watch TV. I wondered why he never went into the family room where recliners are more comfortable."
"So he was here in the kitchen when Sally or you were making drinks for Mrs. Franks' medicine," asked Stacy.
"Yes, he sure was and it, the tray, was only an arm's length away. Sometimes he'd push it a little as if it was in his way. He's an awful smart aleck kind of guy. His eyes are like a wild animal. I can't believe she loves the guy," said Sharon.
"Thanks Sharon, you've been a big help to us. I wish you well in the future," said Stacy as she took her leave to meet the boys at the chemist shop.
Rory and Ben were already inside talking to the chemist Martin Appel. When Stacy flashed her shield to the counter girl, she was directed to the back of the pharmacy where Martin Appel had his small office. His door was open, and as there wasn't any more seating available, she stood leaning against a wall. Ben, the ever cordial man, introduced her to beady eyed Martin. Upon first impression, he looked like a man who'd just as soon eat an alligator he just freshly out wrestled than talk to any law enforcement agents.
Ben stood and motioned Stacy out the door for an update. He quickly told her that all they'd accomplished so far was his background and subsequent immigration to America. He'd married a local Coos Bay woman who'd sponsored him for his green card. She'd also financed his pharmacy.
Stacy nodded her head and they returned to hear Rory ask, "Mr. Appel, explain your relationship with Dr. Builtmore."
"I met Dr. Builtmore about ten years ago," he said with a sharp accent. We became friends and he sends me many customers. We don't socialize, but are business friends."
"Is it true you make up a lot of medicine using raw materials rather than major drug suppliers," asked Rory.
"Yes, that is very true. I was taught that chemists must know the many different ingredients that will make the patient feel better. I'm not a big fan of giant pharmaceuticals that make billions of dollars off prescription drugs. In my country a patient has the knowledge that he or she has to wait for a few hours until the medicine is ready for pickup. Here in America, they want it like five minutes ago. The recent concept of a drive through pharmacy makes me ill."
"Mr. Appel, what is arsenic used for in healing or treating diseases," asked Stacy. Stacy saw the smallest of reactions in his face hearing about arsenic.
"It's used in treating leukemia and some other lesser ailments."
"Do you keep this chemical, with the potential to render a person sick or even have death occur in stock," asked Stacy.
"Yes I do. I've in powder form and also for injection into patients."
"Now think carefully Mr. Appel, have you ever made up a prescription of arsenic trioxide for any of Dr. Biltmore's patients, and in particular a Mrs. Betty Franks," asked Stacy.
The silence was very noticeable in the small office, but outside you could hear talking and customers going in and out the door. Martin Appel was visibly nervous now. His long fingers were laced together like shoe laces on a track star. White knuckles were very oblivious against his brown skin.
He said, "I need a lawyer. I'm afraid of what my answer might be and as this country allows me that right as a citizen, I need to call my wife."
"You make the call Mr. Appel and meanwhile, we'll transport you to the Oregon State Police Office in North Bend. Have your lawyer meet us there," said Ben standing up.
Martin Appel quickly made the call telling his wife the situation; and after listening for a few minutes said, "Would 1 pm be alright to have him come," asked Martin Appel.
"Fine with us, but you are being held until such time as we either charge you with murder or a conspiracy to commit murder or to let you go," said Ben.
Rory was taking no chances and cuffed the good chemist. Stacy followed in her SUV to the office. In her thinking, one more piece of the puzzle needed fitting to complete the picture. She'd drop that bombshell later this afternoon.
After tucking Mr. Chemist into a holding room, the three detectives ordered in lunch. Captain Blane told them to feed the chemist as well. Nobody asked him what he would like, but Stacy told them curry was high on their list of favorite spices. Stacy like that idea and had curry rice for lunch as well did Ben. Rory the every greasy eater had a double burger with all the accessories, including a double chocolate banana shake.
Just before 1 pm in walked Mrs. Appel. She was on the high side of being decked out in fashion from the plus size department of any department store. She had her head held high and walked directly to the receptionist asking about her husband. Veronica, the receptionist looked for Rory down the hall a ways to the small lunch room. He nodded for her to come back and see him. Veronica led her to the
small lunch room where both Rory and Ben stood up. "Have a chair Mrs. Appel," said Rory.
"If you don't mind answering a few questions we'd appreciate it," said Stacy.
"Our lawyer told me to not say anything until he arrived at 1 pm. I'd best follow his advice detective."
"I see him at the counter now. Let's all go see him and then we can decide what happens next," said Rory leading the way.
A Mr. Sherman Weeks stuck his spindly arm with a hand that was just on the verge of turning to bone and introduced himself. All shook his cold hand including Stacy.
"Now where is my client," he asked. Without an answer Rory walked down the hall to the first interrogation room. Ben went to acquire a few more chairs as the room would be crowded. He chuckled thinking that Mrs. Chemist would or might need two chairs for her ample backside.
Once settled in and after a whisper between Chemist and Bony Fingers, they all sat down to do battle. Stacy repeated the question she asked before about the good doctor prescribing arsenic to Mrs. Franks. His answer was, "Yes, he did and as the prescription called for a very small dose, I saw no problem. He told me that it was designed to give her some more energy, but he was afraid of the side effects. He also prescribed stomach meds and in cases of diarrhea some of that medicine as well."
"What did he prescribe for pain Mr. Appel," asked Stacy. She saw him lean over to his lawyer who shook his head, but then nodded.
"He prescribed morphine," said Martin Appel.
"At what dosage," asked Ben.
"A low dosage in case of stomach pain," said a frightened Martin Appel.
Murder Mysteries #3 Page 18
