by Ben Follows
He started going through the picture one item at a time, checking each of them against the autopsy and the other photos from the crime scene.
He was halfway down the photo, his finger tracing along the bathroom counter in the photo of Joel, when he stopped short. He stared at where his finger pointed.
The pill bottle on the counter was full.
“Shit,” muttered Norman, the pieces coming together.
He grabbed the list of every item that had been taken from Joel’s bathroom for the investigation. He looked through it three times until he was certain that no other pill bottle had been taken from the bathroom.
Norman stood and finished his beer and then leaned over the counter.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Robin was right.”
If Joel had overdosed on prescription medicine, there should have been an empty bottle.
Chapter 29
The smell of coffee permeated the apartment. Norman rolled out of bed and pulled on a bathrobe.
He stumbled into the kitchen. Amelia was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of coffee. She was looking through the notes Norman had made the previous night. She looked up at him as he entered.
“Is this right?” she said, holding up the notes. “Coffee’s hot.”
Norman poured himself a cup and took a swig of black coffee. “There’s no indication of a pill bottle other than the full one.”
“So what happened?”
Norman shrugged. “I don’t know, but we need to talk to the medical examiner who did Joel’s autopsy. He’s the one who might know something about this.”
“What if he’s involved?”
“I don’t know,” said Norman. “We need to try.”
Amelia leaned back in her chair. “What about Detective Franklin?”
“I don’t know how he’s connected to anything. He might genuinely just be investigating the case.”
“So we track down the medical examiner?”
Norman thought for a moment. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go back to your mother?”
Amelia shook her head. “I called her this morning. We had a long talk while you were sleeping. She told me that I could do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t get hurt.”
Norman raised an eyebrow. “Is that really what she said?”
Amelia sighed. “Not originally, but I don’t think she’s confident in her abilities as a mother right now. She’s rattled. We all are. I think we all just want this nightmare to end.”
Norman nodded. “Pass me the autopsy.”
Amelia slid it across the counter.
Norman found the medical examiner’s name in the top right corner. “Zach Novak,” he said, rolling the name over his tongue. “Let’s find out what Mr. Novak knows.”
Chapter 30
It took a few hours to track down Zach Novak. He had the day off, and his office wasn’t willing to give out his home address. Eventually, however, Norman was able to use the yellow pages to track down where he lived, a beat-up house near the University of Toronto that had seen better days. Norman parked in the driveway, and they climbed out. He had given up on changing Amelia’s mind about going to school. To be honest, he enjoyed having a partner. It was relaxing to have someone to talk to.
They walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.
The door opened a few moments later. A man that Norman guessed was in his early thirties stood in the doorway.
“How can I help you?” he said.
“Hi,” said Norman, “Are you Zach Novak?”
“Who’s asking? I’m not buying anything.”
“My name is Norman Green. This is my assistant, Amelia. We’re investigating the deaths of Joel and Robin Sweetwater.”
Zach look them both over and sighed. “You’d better come inside. I don’t want anyone seeing me talking to you out here.”
Zach walked into the house. Norman and Amelia looked at one another and followed. Amelia closed the door behind them.
They went through the small front hallway and into the kitchen. Zach was leaning over a baby girl in a high chair.
“Here comes the airplane,” said Zach, maneuvering a spoon filled into the girl’s mouth as she laughed.
“She’s adorable,” said Amelia.
“Thanks,” said Zach. “This is my daughter, Jacquie.”
Norman glanced at the baby and nodded. The baby ignored him.
“Come in here,” said Zach, gesturing to the living room. “You want coffee or something?”
“Sure,” said Norman, taking a seat on the threadbare couch.
Amelia said she’d like coffee as well. A few moments later, Zach came in with two steaming cups. They both sipped at their second cup of coffee of the day and Zach fell into a La-Z-Boy.
“I knew this would happen sooner or later,” said Zach. “I was only doing what I needed to do to survive and give my daughter a life. You understand that, don’t you?”
Norman sipped at the coffee. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Zach looked down at the ground. “I did it for her.” He nodded toward the kitchen and the giggling baby. “I’ve been working for the police department for a few months. I was lucky to get the job at all.”
“What about her mother?” said Amelia.
Zach shook his head. “She’s not in the picture.”
Amelia nodded. “Continue.”
Zach sighed. “They came to me while I was doing the autopsy on Joel Sweetwater. When I first got the body, it seemed straightforward. How hard can it be to prove that a teenage boy killed himself? I’d had cases like it before, and it was always pretty straightforward. I could look at the notes the detectives had made, and normally their guesses were pretty close.”
“This was different?” said Norman.
“Not as much as you would think.”
Norman raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“The drugs Joel was taking for his leg weren’t anywhere in his system. There was something else in the toxicology report, though. Something that didn’t make sense.”
“What was it?” said Amelia, leaning forward.
Zach shrugged. “I didn’t know. The best answer I could come up with was that he had immense quantities of an experimental, non-FDA-approved cancer medication in his system. “
Norman and Amelia were both quiet for a moment.
“That’s what killed him?” said Norman.
Zach nodded. “There was no record of anything like that in the police report. I was going to take it to the police.”
“But you didn’t?” said Norman, taking a note.
“No. A man I didn’t recognize showed up at my office. He was wearing all black, but I think he was young. He told me to write down that Joel had killed himself and that it would be worth my while. That night there was a deposit into my bank account from an unspecified account, somewhere in Switzerland, in the amount of fifteen grand.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” said Zach. “It was enough to get my head above water financially. I’m not an idiot. I knew what the implication was.”
“So why tell us this?” said Norman. “Why not chase us off the porch and tell us never to come back?”
Zach sighed. “Because I need to tell someone. I feel guilty, but I can’t give the money back. Promise me this won’t come back to me. I need that money, and I need this job. Without it, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Norman nodded. He knew exactly how Zach felt. “Tell us everything,” he said, “and no one will ever know that you told us a thing.”
Chapter 31
Although it hurt Norman to admit, the most likely suspect based on Novak’s information was Harold Sweetwater. Amelia knew it, too, even though it had taken some prodding for her to admit it. He had expertise in cancer medication and had been very involved in Marie’s treatment.
Harold Sweetwater’s clinic was located at the back of a large mall, accessible only from the
rear parking lot, scrunched between a rock-climbing gym and a health-food store. On the front door was Dr. Harold Sweetwater, General Practitioner.
Norman stepped out of the car and took a few steps. He looked back.
“Are you coming?”
Amelia took a deep breath. She nodded and wiped off her eyes. She stepped out of the car and walked up to Norman.
“Are you sure?” said Norman.
Amelia took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
Norman glanced at her for a second then turned and walked toward the door into the clinic. A receptionist told them that Dr. Sweetwater would be joining them in a minute if they’d like to wait in his office. There were no one else in the waiting room. Norman and Amelia walked past the closed door of the examination room and into the sparsely furnished office. There were no windows, and one wall was covered by a dozen plants of varying sizes, which had been set up underneath a hot lamp.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door behind the desk opened and Harold Sweetwater walked in. He walked casually and had a clipboard in his hand. He took a seat then removed his glasses from their perch on his nose and placed them on his desk.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Green?” said Harold. “It’s good to know that Amelia is safe. Her mother will be pleased to hear that.”
Norman reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. On the sheet was an exact description of the drug Zach Novak had found in Joel’s bloodstream.
Harold took the sheet of paper. He put his glasses back on and looked down at it. For just a moment, his eyes went wide. Then he shook his head, his shock gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“What is it?”
“I think you know,” said Norman.
Harold looked back and forth between Norman and his stepdaughter. “Where did you get this?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Harold let out an exasperated breath. Norman didn’t take his eyes off the doctor, but he could see Amelia ready to pounce out of the corner of his eye.
“I don’t know what it is,” he said.
“Bullshit!” said Amelia. “You’re a fucking doctor and you can’t recognize a cancer medication?”
“I’m not a cancer specialist. I’ve never heard of this drug. “
“It’s experimental! Plus we know that you worked with Gary Thorne on his sister’s treatment. You know a lot about cancer medication!”
Harold picked up the sheet. “I suppose I can see it,” he said after a few moments.
Norman leaned in. “Joel had this in his system. Can you tell me what I’m supposed to think? You are his stepfather, a doctor. The drugs he took were nowhere to be found in his room or in the bathroom, so someone must have taken them out. The first time I met with Robin, she insisted that she’d heard someone walking around in Joel’s room before she found his body. So you tell me, Dr. Sweetwater, how did Joel die?”
Harold tapped his fingers along the top of the table. Norman noticed he kept glancing at the phone.
“I have an appointment,” said Harold suddenly. “It was nice seeing you, Amelia. Norman, if you have anything else to say, you can speak to my attorney.”
“We both know there’s something here,” said Norman. “What are you hiding? What do you know about Joel’s death?”
“Please leave.” Harold stood.
“If we leave,” said Norman, standing and looking him in the eyes, “we will be returning with the full might of the police force.”
Harold grinned and walked around the table. He stopped just beside Norman and whispered, “Good luck!”
Then he walked past them and out of his office.
“Harold!” Amelia shouted, marching out the door. “Get back here!”
Amelia stormed down the hallway, toward the front desk, where Harold was talking with the secretary.
Norman followed a few steps behind her.
“Harold!” Amelia screamed. “You are going to tell me what is going on right now! Did you kill my brother?”
“Amelia,” said Harold sternly, “we can discuss this later.”
“No,” said Amelia, walking up to her stepfather. “You will tell me what you know this instant, or I will tell my mother and the police everything.”
Harold stood to his full height, looking both terrified and imposing as he glared down at her. “You need to leave — now.”
“Fuck you,” said Amelia, “I knew you were crooked ever since you came into our lives.”
“Leave!” said Harold, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead. “Please!”
Amelia shook her head. “Go. To. Hell.”
Harold sighed. “You brought this on yourself. I’m sorry.”
Norman was about to step forward and defend Amelia when he felt a cold barrel push into the back of his neck.
He froze.
“Norman,” said Amelia, her back to him. “Let’s go. Norman?”
She turned back, and her breath caught in her throat. Whatever was behind Norman terrified her. Norman didn’t need to look back to know there was a gun pushed into the back of his neck. It was the second time this had happened in a week.
“What’s going on?” said Amelia, glancing back and forth between her stepfather and Norman.
“Norman,” said Harold, his voice shaking. “That man is going to take you out to a truck. You will get in without any arguments. If you try anything, you will die. Amelia, if you try anything, Norman will die. Is that clear?”
Amelia was staring wide-eyed at Norman. The receptionist must have gone out somewhere, as Norman couldn't hear anyone else.
“Walk,” said a deep voice behind Norman that he didn’t recognize.
Norman took a few steps forward toward Amelia and Harold. Harold grabbed Amelia’s shoulder and pulled her behind the desk.
Norman walked slowly, staring at the front door and praying someone would see them. He was led into a waiting van and shoved into the back.
He landed on his stomach and spun around to look back. Harold was holding Amelia’s shoulder. She was reaching out to him. Both seemed to be apologizing with their eyes.
The back doors of the van slammed shut and the engine started. Norman, in the darkness of the back of the van, was unable to do anything.
The truck drove along the potholed roads. This time Norman was able to get his bearings quickly. He got into a position against the back of the van where he couldn’t be tossed around. His hand grazed over an upturned part of the carpet. He frowned, a sense of déjà vu coming over him.
He was in the same van as last time.
After what seemed like an impossibly long time, the van slowed.
A few moments later, the back doors of the van were opened.
Norman tried to launch himself out of the back and run, but two sets of arms grabbed him and pulled him out, twisting his arms behind him. There were immense men standing on either side of him with assault rifles.
Norman looked around. He was inside the same warehouse that he had been taken to the last time. This time, however, he wasn’t blinded by spotlights and the darkness of night.
It was covered in security cameras. The interior had been completely renovated in a modern style. It looked more like the research and development area of a big engineering company than an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts in Toronto.
There were rooms created by temporary partitions filled with expensive-looking lab equipment. People in lab coats walked back and forth between the machines. A few shot glances in Norman’s direction, but most ignored him.
This warehouse was a covert lab. A well funded high-tech lab.
“What the hell is this place?” said Norman, looking around.
“Don’t worry about it,” said one of the men holding him.
A moment later, a bag was pulled over Norman’s head and his sight of the lab disappeared. He was led through the lab, his feet dragging along the ground as he stumbled.
He wanted to scream, bu
t he didn’t see the point. Everyone here could see him, and they weren’t doing anything.
He was led through a creaking door and down a set of metal stairs into a basement. The light sneaking through the hood became dimmed and darkened.
His two captors shoved him and sent him sprawling. He fell onto a stone floor.
“He’ll be here soon,” said one of the goons. “Don’t go anywhere.”
The other goon laughed, and their footsteps receded. A door opened and slammed shut as they did so. Norman grabbed the hood and pulled it off. He looked around his enclosure and cursed. He was in a concrete cell with bars on one side. There were no windows. There was nothing in the cell except for a bucket in the corner.
“Hello?” he said, walking to the bars. He looked back and forth down the short hallway. There was a single doorway to his left that must have led to the staircase. There was one other cell across from him, but it was empty.
“Hello?” he shouted, louder this time.
No response again.
“Shit,” said Norman. He reached into his pocket, and his heart skipped a beat. He still had his phone.
He pulled it out and turned it on.
He had no reception. He walked around the cell, but at no point did he get even the slightest indication of a signal.
He cursed again and fell against the wall, feeling hopeless in a way he couldn’t have imagined a few days earlier.
Chapter 32
“What the fuck is going on?” screamed Amelia. “I need you to tell me everything, or I’m walking to the police station!”
Harold closed his office door and locked it then turned back to Amelia. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This was never meant to happen.”
“What happened?” said Amelia.
Harold put his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “I need you to stop this, Amelia. You have no idea what you’re doing. You are putting everyone you love at risk.”
