The Priest Who Ate a Poison Petit Four

by Kee Patterbee

  “So far. When we first got here, they were on a table with a woman by the name of Pepper Mothershed.”

  “The receptionist,” Holmes explained to Borden.

  Hannah affirmed with a bob of the head. “Then in Wessel’s office trash, and just now in Ms. West’s room.”

  “I recall the box, but had no particular reflection upon it,” Holmes stated. “At the time, I must admit, I had no reason to consider it.”

  “I’d imagine not. There would be no reason too. But regardless, I was going to try to find out if any of the staff who worked with the victims remembered seeing the boxes.”

  Borden leaned back in his chair as he twisted his coffee cup in circles in his hand as it rest on the table. “I suppose it’s pointless to ask how you got the names of the staff who worked with the victims.”

  “I have my sources.”

  “Uh huh. I also suppose, given what Henry said about you being a detective and former FBI, it’s a waste of time to say this is a police matter. You shouldn’t be involved.””

  “I already am. I made Reverend Whipson a promise. I don’t go back on promises.” Hannah’s eyes moved between Holmes and Borden. “And I don’t quit.”

  Borden blew out a puff of air as Holmes intervened.

  “Come now, Jack. She is trained and from what I have read, talented. She is the one who solved the Karas case last year in Zebulon. We talked about it. And you have got your hands full as is.” Holmes turned his attention back to the sleuth, adding, ““Tantalus is not big, but it has its issues.”

  Borden relented. “Alright, but you keep me in the loop. And I mean everything.”

  Hannah agreed as she leaned back in her chair and took a swig of coffee. She again turned her attention to Holmes. “So, you’ve been checking into this as well. What made you look into it?”

  “I had three patients that suffered cardiac arrests.” Holmes informed. “The rapid order of their deaths from this particular condition over a span of just a few months seemed high to me. I confess, at first I wondered if I had done something wrong in my attempts to treat them.” He took a sip of tea before continuing and cleared his throat. “Finding no root cause on my part, the whole affair piqued my curiosity. I began to examine some of the records, such as yourself. What I found disturbed me.” He motioned to Borden. “Since Jack and I are friends and have a history working police matters, I consulted him.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “The same as you. An increased number of deaths since Jonathan took over as head of ministerial duties at the center. Given his condition, I dismissed him as the perpetrator, but I must say, I never considered him in the manner you did. As unaware of his crimes in a psychological sense.”

  “Me either. Seems you do think outside the box a bit,” Borden furthered.

  Hannah nodded, thinking over her own recent misgivings about the Reverend. She considered how distracted she was by the wedding. Had she wandered onto the case by accident, her investigation might have gone smoother.

  Borden leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. A serious look crossed his face. “Well, the more we looked into it, the only other connection we found that tied to all the deaths were the Yorks. All the patients had one thing in common with them.”

  “They all billed through York Gerontology,” Hannah informed.

  “That’s right. I was going to interview them today, but then Henry gave me the call about Dr. York.”

  “And you’re thinking her husband might have done this.”

  “I am,” Borden answered with a nod. “Something happens to the wife, the first person you look at is the boyfriend, the lover, or the spouse. Do you disagree?””

  Hannah sighed before she finished off her coffee. “Well, let’s just say I’m not sure. I’ve found no solid evidence to suggest it was him. The billing is circumstantial at best, and my gut instinct says no.”

  “That was not a convincing denial, dear,” Holmes said. “I can tell that you have your doubts.”

  The sleuth shifted in her seat. He’s right, she admitted to herself. Doubt was creeping in on her resolve to clear the Yorks. She now wondered if her desire to find the Yorks innocent for the Reverend’s sake hampered her ability to look beyond the obvious. It was a sobering notion. “I will admit that the pendulum is swinging in their direction… for the moment. His in particular.”

  Borden leaned back and crossed his arms. “Well then, let’s consider it. He was present at all the victims’ deaths, but one. This Wessel fellow.””

  “He was not with Susan when she collapsed,” Holmes interjected.

  “And she didn’t die,” Borden clarified. “Maybe she wasn’’t supposed to die right then. Or perhaps at all.”

  Holmes frowned. “Which brings us then to the age old question of why? Why would he do all this and attempt to rid himself of his wife? I met them the day they first arrived here. They have shown nothing but great care for one another and for Jonathan. Though the weight of the evidence bends in their direction, I still find it unfathomable.””

  Borden peered to Hannah. “You said earlier that you toyed with the idea that it could be about money. Fraudulent billing. Some sort of cover up.”

  “It was a theory. A possibility. They have a lot of debt at the moment. I don’t know an exact figure. But they still have school loans, a business to operate, and a family member who is incurring a lot of expense treatment wise.””

  “Greed seems to be the base of a motive. I find that even harder to conceive of,” Holmes admitted. “No, I believe we both have arrived at the same intersection looking for the same locale, but we both have the limitations of the same map.”

  Borden shot his friend a perturbed, yet somehow quizzical look. “English, Henry.”

  Holmes narrowed his eyes and gave a put upon face. “I believe we are both coming to the same conclusion. That Calvin is innocent. But we have no evidence to push us in another direction. We are looking at him as a potential perpetrator even though our instincts tell us otherwise.”

  “Well, I don’t have a reading on him, having never met him. I suppose that is the next order of business.”

  To Hannah’s mind, their interactions reminded her of literary detectives, Sherlock and Watson, or Poirot and Hastings. Dramatic. Refined. Verbose, she added to file on Holmes. Grounded. Practical. Normal, she noted of Borden. Studying the two, she tried to calculate her approach to working with both. Though she understood Holmes’ intellect, she appreciated the practical law mentality in Borden. If she were going to work with them, she would have to play to their individual strengths as well as their weaknesses. The physician’s access to the hospital would be of great use moving forward. The lawman’s ability to get warrants and access to otherwise inaccessible records and such held value.

  “So what say we go talk to him?” Borden said, drawing Hannah back away from her contemplations.

  “Do you think that now is the correct time for such?” Holmes inquired. “His wife is still recovering.”

  “All the more reason,” Borden said, rising from his seat. “He’s unsettled and I’d like to keep her that way.”

  “We still don’t know that he had anything to do with this,” Hannah defended.

  Borden paused before he moved to the door. “And we don’t know that he didn’t. That’s why we’re going to talk with him.”

  Holmes gave Hannah a look. She rose to follow but said nothing.

  *****

  Fifteen minutes later, Hannah, Holmes, and Borden, sat with Calvin in his wife and his shared large office. Scanning the room over, Hannah found it spacious and stylish. Happiness Medical Center was a modern facility in every way, save it being part of an older structure. To Hannah, this office was far beyond the perceived norm. Opulent, came to her mind.

  “You can’t be serious?” Calvin said in a frustrated tone. He ran his hands through his hair on both sides of his head. He let out an irritated breath of air as he rose from his of
fice chair. He moved to look out the window before looking to Borden. “Give me a reason. One good reason why you think I would try to kill my wife.” He turned his attention to Hannah and glared. “Or any of these alleged victims?” He turned to Holmes. “Henry, you know as well as I do people here die of cardiac arrest all the time. It’s just part of the demographic. Here in particular.”

  Holmes stared at his colleague. “It is, but not at the levels I have noted in comparison to the number of patients seen, and they seem to be increasing in frequency.”

  “And you and your wife are the common thread between them all,” Borden added.

  Calvin threw his arms into the air as he began pacing the floor.

  “We’re not the only doctors here.” He pointed to Holmes. “You, yourself, have had patients die of cardiac arrest. I’m sure if you check deep enough, anybody practicing here has. Why am I the target of this little witch hunt? What makes the patients I oversaw any different from anyone else’s?”

  Why am I the target? Hannah took notice of the personal reference. Not we. I. She remembered Hym telling her that Calvin did not like when someone questioned him. From what her husband had described, it was something that annoyed the physician to a great degree. Ego or possible guilt? Watching him as he grew more and more agitated, she remained uncertain. His voice intensified and his gesturing becoming more extreme. Still, not surprising, given.

  Hannah’s awareness raced back to the conversation she had with Hym when they passed through Happiness with Magdalen in tow. She told her husband she might have to step on some toes during the course of her investigation. Almost dancing on them now, she thought. She knew this interview would be troublesome, but she did not expect how much so. At this moment, she was asking one of Hym’s close friends if he were a serial killer, as well as attempted to kill his wife. Uxoricide, she thought. Even the word sent chills down her spine.

  “Because your patients follow a pattern. They all suffered from a terminal disease, but each died far earlier than statistics can account for,” Holmes interjected in a calm voice.

  Borden waved a finger between Hannah and Holmes. “And from what these two have found, that number has increased since you came here. Reverend Whipson asked her to look into it.”

  “I’m aware of that. I noted my objections to her at that time,” Calvin said, his eyes darting to the sleuth. “And several more times thereafter.”

  Calvin stood as he held an unbelieving stare. His eyes darted among the three, and came again to stop on Hannah. He gave a disgusted, half snort of a laugh and gestured, palms splayed out. “And what stick of wood did you bring to the witch’s pyre?”” he said with intense sarcasm.

  For a second, Hannah was uncertain how to answer. She took a deep breath and held it as her eyes examined his posture, his face, and heated glower of his eyes. His demeanor was somewhere between hurt and intimidating. She understood both, but gave into neither.

  “They were all billed through your practice.”

  “My business? Wonderful. Just fantastic. Any other little tidbits you’d like to toss on the fire? A bounced company check. A large deposit. Massive withdrawal, perhaps?” Calvin took a few steps and took a dramatic stance. He raised a finger to the air. “Was there a sizable purchase? A secret bank account in the Caymans, maybe? Planned trip to a country with no extradition?”

  Hannah shifted in an uncomfortable manner. “I didn’t get that far in. I do know it takes a lot to run a business. I’m pretty sure you still have debt from medical school.””

  “Anything else?” Calvin said with disgust and anger.

  The sleuth dropped her head before bringing her eyes back to meet his again. “I’m sure that the Reverend’s treatment hasn’’t been without expense. Susan would do anything for her grandfather. From what I can tell, you’d do anything for her.”

  For a moment, Calvin said nothing. He moved back to his chair and sat down. He rubbed his hand across his mouth before he let his eyes roll across Hannah, Holmes, and Borden. They sat waiting for his response.

  The look Calvin gave Hannah and the absolute rejection and denial of such doings gave her pause. Reading his face and body language, she became convinced more than ever that the man had nothing to do with either. Disturbed. Hurt. Angry. But not guilt. Though she reminded herself that she was capable at such readings, she was not adept at it. Still, she nonetheless moved to protect him in some minor way.

  “The Reverend was looking for a way to exonerate you,” Hannah interjected. “Just to clarify and keep in mind. He didn’t believe you did anything wrong. He just wanted to make sure nothing came back on the two of you. He cares a great deal for the both of you.”

  Calvin gave a nod. “I know,” he answered in a calmer voice. “And I’m sorry if I seem more than a little upset. Between this and Susan…” He shook his head. “Ask whatever you want. I’ll answer as best I can. If you need records, I’’ll get them…” He shot Borden a scowl. “Within the legal limits of law. I still have to uphold the doctor-patient confidentiality agreement. So if you want something down that line, you’’ll need the patient or family’s agreement or legal authorization.”

  “Does that apply to the deceased?” Borden inquired.

  “Contrary to the movies, Sheriff, it does.”

  “It’s just easier to get a judge to issue a warrant,” Hannah informed.

  Borden shifted his eyes over to Holmes, who nodded. Hannah took it as the physician assuring the sheriff about the truth of Calvin and her statements.

  Borden twisted his face into an expression that suggested examination. “What happens if I have some of these alleged victims of yours exhumed and tested? Would I find anything?”

  Calvin swallowed hard. “I have no idea. You’d have to ask county medical examiner after he’s done. His name is Clemente. Ramos Clemente. I’’m sure you are familiar with him,” he added in an icy cold, yet calm voice.

  Borden nodded as he pushed himself back into the chair. “Fair enough.”

  A silence fell on the room bringing with it an uncomfortable stillness. Hannah, sensing the unease in the room, broke it. “How is Susan?” She watched as Calvin’s shoulders sagged a little and his head dropped a bit. His expression deepened with what she took to be sadness and concern. Vulnerable, it occurred to her. First time since we entered the room.

  “Critical but stable.” Calvin cleared his throat before continuing. “She’s sedated for the moment. Dr. Stockton, the resident cardiologist, is coming back from vacation early to have a look at her. He should be here late tonight. We may transfer her to a more conducive facility, depending on his recommendation.” He let out a short breath and looked over to Holmes. “Despite all this here, I need to thank you. If you weren’t there, she would have died.”

  Holmes produced a reassuring smile. “No accolades necessary. I am just glad I was on hand.” He gestured to Hannah, Borden, and himself. “And this is nothing personal. It is just……troubling. Things are happening that need answering, but I am sure it will all turn out as expected.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Calvin rose again and glanced over Borden. “If you don’t mind, I need to get back to my wife. I’m sure you’ll want to talk to her when she is able. I can’t say for sure when that will be, but I’ll let you know. Until then, you can find me there.”

  “I will.”

  All rose and exited. Hannah, Holmes, and Borden walked behind Calvin, who moved at an accelerated pace to the stairwell and exited.

  “Your thoughts?” Holmes inquired in a general manner.

  Borden responded first.

  “Not sure. He seemed all over the place. Upset. Angry. Disturbed. Did you notice his hesitation when I mentioned exhuming some of the victims?”

  Hannah considered the point. She too had noticed Calvin’s hard swallow at the mention of digging up and retesting alleged victims. However, she remained uncertain if it were a sign of fear from knowing what would be found, or fear from not knowing what would c
ome to light. “I’’m biased,” she admitted in response. “I know him, though not well, but my gut instinct says no.”

  “I don’t trust mine. Just the facts. He and his wife have the closest relationship to the victims. And with her now a target---”

  “Alleged target,” Holmes interrupted. “That is yet determined.”

  “It’s more than probable. But regardless, evidence points to him.”

  It does, Hannah pondered to herself. She also admitted that were she still with the FBI, she would be focused on the man. Still, she did not believe he was behind everything. “But not conclusively. There’s still not confirmation that the death of any of these alleged victims resulted from murder. Nor do we have a definitive means. Or even a solid, workable motive. We have a series of similar deaths under unusual circumstance. A theory about poison. And conjecture over a cover up of fraudulent billing. Not even that is certain. In short order, gentlemen, it’s like my grandfather says. We don’’t have squat in the way of anything, just a bunch of theories and speculations, and that’s going nowhere.”

  Stopping before the elevator, Borden ran his hand over his chin and responded to Hannah. “All right then. Since Henry says you’re used to this kind of thing, more so than me, what do you suggest?”

  “That we get answers where there are gaps. One way or another, it will push us forward.”

  They stepped into the elevator and the sleuth looked to the physician. “Would you be willing to sign off on a request for exhumation for two of the victims?”

  “I would.”

  Hannah turned her attention to Borden. “Do you know a judge to sign off on that?”

  “I got someone in mind.”

  “Then that, gentlemen, is what I think we should do.”

  “And what about you?” Borden asked.

  “I’ve got someone I have to talk to who might have some answers, and I’m going to ask Calvin for an official copy of his financial records. I think he’’ll go along with it now without too much fuss.” She held up the candy box in the bag she had retrieved from the cafeteria. “We need to get this tested for trace.”