The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) (24 page)

“Sooner or later to someone...like me,” I said. “A neighbor found her.”

“Is it possible she had a heart attack?” Mary Ann asked.

“What does it matter now?” Elizabeth said. “We just lost the one person who might have told us what was going on.”

The room stayed silent. “Maybe she left a note,” Mary Ann said, without much confidence.

“Does anyone here doubt that Margaret was murdered?” Elizabeth asked after a few moments.

“No.” We all said together. Mary Ann’s eyes looked glassy.

Deirdre perked up. “I know Margaret’s neighbor. Kay, let's visit her tomorrow and see if she saw or heard anything. It must have been a shock finding her.”

“Good idea, Deirdre.”

“I need to leave. Too many deaths,” Mary Ann whimpered.

“Same here,” Elizabeth said.

“I’ll package these scones for all of you to take home.” Deirdre said as Mary Ann and Elizabeth both stood up to go.

Deirdre turned to me and said in a quiet voice, “Remember what I sensed...the treacherous fog. We're descending.”

* * * *

I came home from Deirdre's and took down the copies of Dr. Ander's files from the top shelf of my closet. I sat on the bed and looked through the reports. I had my doubts Dr. Anders would have left anything incriminating in these papers, but it had been worth the chance I took if I could learn anything new. The last paper I looked at was the handwritten report I copied in Dr. Anders' office. It listed the names of two drugs in Sherman’s system. Oh my gosh! Unbelievable! He had incriminated himself with his own hand. Why would Dr. Anders have written this report up, and why had he kept it in his office? Sheer arrogance? More like an unfounded faith in his key hiding spot. It wasn’t signed, but I knew his handwriting. Dr. Anders’ stupidity was our good fortune. At last we had our first real piece of evidence!

I hurried back to Deirdre's house with the report. After she looked at it, she called Elizabeth, who came right over.

“Can you believe it? Keeping an incriminating paper like this?” I said. I put the paper down on the kitchen table. “What was he thinking?”

“Probably forgot it was there,” Elizabeth said.

“Maybe Dr. Anders tried out a new strain of the ginseng drug on Sherman and wrote down the effects it had on his system, so he kept the sheet for his own records,” Deirdre said.

I raised my eyebrows. Leave it to Deirdre.

“Deirdre,
that's
a bit farfetched,” Elizabeth said. “What about this scenario? Whoever helped him with the autopsy, an intern perhaps, might have done the drug test on Sherman before and made a record of it. Then, Anders grabbed the paper and killed the intern. He had to, to get rid of the evidence.”

“Really, Elizabeth. Another dead body for the list, and it hasn’t been reported yet? I mean the intern? Come on.”

“Well, I suppose then Kay wouldn’t have recognized the handwriting,” Elizabeth added. I shook my head.

“You two are good. You should be writing a mystery novel,” I commented.

“How about this? He was just careless. He thought since it wasn’t signed it wasn’t relevant.”

“Well, whatever the reason, this is the breakthrough we've needed,” Deirdre said with vigor.

“Falsifying medical records,” Elizabeth said. “Time to call your FBI friend, Kay.”

* * * *

“Thom, you wouldn't believe how upset Margaret was yesterday. Now she's dead? I’m sure she would have told me everything.”

“Sounds suspicious. How did you and Elizabeth come across Walters’ manuscript in Al Stewart's study?”

“Do you really want to know?”

A pause. “No.”

“Didn't think so.”

Thom cleared his throat. “You and your friends had better be careful.”

“We will. Three people now...”

“I've written down everything you've told me. With the ginseng being exported to China, this is in the FBI’s jurisdiction now. I'll write up a report and deliver it myself later today. I'll mention the Sudbury Falls Police Department is off limits for now.”

“Thanks.”

“Be available to the agents in your area. Too bad you don’t know who the other two persons are...for certain. I'm not going to mention Professor Laska. You don’t have any proof about him.”

“Thom remember, Phil and I need to live in this town. I'd like to have my name stay out of it as much as possible.”

“Right. I'll see what we can do about that. By the way, how are Phil and the boys?”

“Busy. How about you and Therese? Are you doing any better?”

“It's deteriorated. Irreparable.” Pause. “I think of you often.”

A silence paused our conversation, until... “Thom, would you mind hanging on for a second? I have another call coming in from someone working the case with me.”

“Kay, you are not working any ca—” I put Thom on hold. “Mary Ann, what’s up?”

“Hi, Kay. I found a paper in one of Sherman’s books with two names and places on it. On the top Sherman wrote ‘Ginseng Crop Samples. Dr. Robert Kessler at Ag-Lab research in St. Paul, MN’ with the date October 10th, and lower down ‘Dr. Richard Stewart from Bioengineering Laboratory in Sudbury Falls’ with the date of October 13th.”

“Dr. Richard Stewart?”

“Yes. This looked important. I thought I’d tell you right away.”

“Thanks, Mary Ann. Great timing, by the way. I’ll get back to you.” I switched back to Thom’s line.

“Thom, I have two other names for you to put into your report.”

* * * *

After making a Thai chicken dish with coconut milk and basil for a late dinner, I decided to go up to bed and start the new book Al loaned me. I checked the doors and headed upstairs. I wanted to relax and take my mind off everything. I probably should have started the book James chose for the book club.

It was almost nine-thirty, and Phil still wasn't home. I had come to a scary part in the book where a serial killer broke into the protagonist's home while she slept when I thought I heard sounds coming from downstairs. Was it Phil? No. The garage door hadn't opened yet. I put the book down and listened. Nothing. It could have been the house settling, or maybe just my imagination. I started reading again. A minute later, I thought I heard footsteps on the stone floor below me. My cell phone rang. I reached over and saw that it was Elizabeth. I thought she was out with John tonight.

“Elizabeth, you're back from dinner so soon?”

“Kay. Listen. There's someone in your house! A man is in your study. Get out of the house... now!” she screamed.

“What? Are you sure?” My heart raced.

“Just run for the front door and get out! I'll wait for you across the street.”

“Call the police!” I threw off the covers and sprang out of bed. The loud creak of the bed springs seemed to echo around the room. My heart skipped a beat. For a few moments, panic took over, and then terror gripped me. Awash in adrenaline, I threw on my robe and looked around for something, anything at all, for protection. I grabbed the first thing I saw from my closet that I thought might work, my new tennis racket, and went out to the steps.

A car horn outside started to sound off in a continuous beep. Elizabeth! I started down the stairs, tennis racket raised and ready, toward the door that seemed forever away. I started to get dizzy from hyperventilating. The steps groaned loud with every heavy footfall, warning the house that someone was on the move. At that moment, I knew whoever was in the house knew where I was. My speed increased, and I flew down the stairs, somehow managing to keep my feet untangled from my robe. My foot hit the floor unevenly as I left the staircase, and I slid a bit before regaining my balance.

The door was almost within reach. I dropped the racket with a clatter and held both hands out before me, a desperate reach for the door. As I passed through the entry hall, however, I spared a quick glance in the direction of the study. I thought I saw a shadow, but before I had a chance to see for sure I bumped right into the front door. My hands scrabbled for the knob. I turned the lock and opened the door. My robe billowed out behind me as I ran toward the headlights of Elizabeth’s car. Elizabeth ran over from her car, hugging me. “Kay, thank goodness you're safe.”

“I feel like passing out.”

“Take slow, deep breaths. That's it.”

Deirdre and Mike ran across the street. “What happened?” Mike asked.

“Someone broke into Kay's house. John dropped me off after dinner. As I watched him drive away, I glanced over at Kay's. It's always lit like a Christmas tree.” She looked over to me. “I saw your bedroom light. Knew you were upstairs. I saw someone in her study. It wasn’t Phil.”

“Did you call the police?” Mike asked.

“Yes.”

“Is Phil home?” Deirdre asked.

“No. What did the man look like?” I asked Elizabeth.

“I couldn't see him all that well. Didn't you lock up your back door?”

“Of course it… maybe...Elizabeth, thank goodness you came home when you did.” I gave her another hug, all of a sudden feeling very tired.

Police sirens wailed. A patrol car drove up with the lights flashing and parked, blocking the driveway. Two officers got out of the car; I saw that they were none other than Deputy Chief of Police Bill Murphy and Officer Sutton. Sutton rushed into the house, his limp gone.

Phil drove up, parked on the street, and got out of the car, looking worried. It was close to ten-thirty. Ted came over from next door. “Kay, are you okay? What happened?” Ted glanced at my open front door that Sutton had just rushed into.

“Kay, what's going on?” Phil asked, rushing up to meet us. He gave a sharp look to Ted and turned to me.

“Someone broke into our house when I was upstairs in bed.”

Ted looked at the two of us. “Kay, I can go through the house with the officer, if you like.”

I looked over at Bill Murphy. He didn't object. “Thanks, Ted. I'd appreciate that.” Ted took off toward the house.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, putting his arms around my shoulders.

“I'm fine...thanks to Elizabeth.”

He kissed my hair. “I’m sorry, Kay. I should have been here.”

He was right about that. Where was he so late? Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't respond.

“Mrs. Driscoll, were your doors locked this evening?” Bill Murphy asked, approaching us from the direction of the house.

I shook off my emotions and turned toward Bill Murphy. “I believe they were. Yes, they were.” I sniffed my nose. “I checked them before I went upstairs.”

“We've had a number of break-ins in town, but not while the owners are at home.” He scratched his head. It looked rather rehearsed. My eyes narrowed at him.

About ten minutes later, Officer Sutton and Ted walked across the lawn over to Bill Murphy and us. “I just checked the doors. Back one’s locked. No sign of forced entry.”

“How'd they get in?” Elizabeth asked, walking up to the house and looking at the Deputy Chief.

Bill Murphy looked over at Elizabeth. “Ms. Sullivan, interesting you happened to see an intruder in Mrs. Driscoll’s house. Can you identify the person? Are you sure it wasn’t just a shadow or something?”

“No, it wasn't
just
a shadow,” she said, looking toward me, “or something.”.

“Was it a man or a woman?”

“A man.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No.”

“What did he look like?”

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “I'm not sure.”

Murphy stepped closer to Elizabeth. “Was he tall, Ms. Sullivan?”

“Yes, I suppose he was rather tall.”

“You’re sure about that.”

She answered his question emphasizing each word. “Yes, I think so.”

“How sure?” Bill Murphy’s eyes were fixed on Elizabeth.

Murphy's badgering was relentless.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I…I don’t know how sure I am. What, do you want a percentage?”

Bill Murphy folded his arms across his chest. “But you think you did see someone. A man who must have had keys, since there was no forced entry.” He glanced over at Sutton and smirked.

Elizabeth glowered. “I said I saw someone.”

“Right,” I said. “And I heard
someone walking around downstairs. There
was
someone in the house.”

“Very well, Mrs. Driscoll. Does anyone have a set of your keys or might have had the opportunity to make a copy of them.” Bill Murphy asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“If someone has copies of our house keys, we don’t know about it,” Phil chimed in, being able to contribute an answer to the inquiries.

“Bill, what’s going on? Do you need any medical help here?” Someone called out. I turned around. Dr. Anders was walking up the driveway. “Kay, are you all right? Anything I can do?”

“Dr. Anders? What are you doing here? What happened to your face?” I asked.

“I noticed the flashing lights. Thought someone might be hurt. My face? Oh, it’s nothing. Some awful old cat gave me a scratch.”