Murder at Naughton Pharms

With the administration offices thinned out for the service, Kelly found the work environment more peaceful. He looked forward to making progress on organizing the studies, but had barely gotten started when Bennie happened by, pushing a wheeled stepladder that held a handful of replacement lighting tubes in a built-in rack.

  "Oh. Hi, Kelly."

  "Hey, Bennie. Not going to the memorial service?"

  "No. I didn't much know those guys, and there needs to be at least one of us on duty, so that's me."

  "I decided not to go, too, though I'm interested to hear if Naughton shows up."

  Bennie leaned an elbow on the ladder. "Well, if he was still pissed about losing his company and stuff, I'd guess he'd stay home."

  "On the other hand, he knew all those guys. If he wants to appear like he has no grudge, maybe he'll go."

  Bennie slowly nodded.

  "Oh, and that detective Amundson," said Kelly, "He confirmed that they didn't find anything at Naughton's farm. In fact, the farm technically belongs to Naughton's pal."

  Bennie looked around, making sure the two people still at their cubicles weren't close enough to hear. "Nothing? No research stuff?"

  Kelly shook his head.

  "What's he doing out there then?"

  "Beats me."

  "Was there an office or something in that potato barn?"

  "No. Turns out it's an abandoned industrial-sized chicken coop. Amundson said there was just a bunch of junk that didn't amount to anything."

  "Why would they hang out in there?"

  Kelly thought for a moment, but had no answer. "Shit, that's right. They went in there after the cops left."

  "Maybe they had something hidden and they went to get it after the cops left.

  "Could be. Makes me wonder, that's for sure."

  Kelly felt kind of stupid that Naughton's behavior hadn't struck him as odd sooner. That Bennie had picked up on it didn't really surprise him, though. He knew Bennie to be sneaky smart, an easy guy to underestimate.

  "Gonna tell the cops?" asked Bennie.

  "Shit, no. At least I don't think so. They're pretty fed up with me coming to them with Naughton theories. Besides, even if Naughton did hide something from the cops, it probably has nothing to do with the murders."

  "Maybe they have plans to adapt the barn for something."

  "Maybe. But if they were going to do some research in there, they'd need equipment and some supplies. I don't suppose you have any info about that."

  "No." Bennie gave a shrug that said 'why would I?'.

  "I just figured that if you've been watching Naughton, you might have caught on to something like that."

  "I've seen them with a box or a bag, but I don't know if it was research stuff or not."

  "Have you ever tried looking through their garbage?"

  "No."

  "I'm just thinking there might be clues about what they're up to – packaging for research supplies or something." Kelly suddenly felt the urge to do some investigating. "I think I'll take an early lunch. You want to come along, take another look around Naughton's place – the place in town?"

  "I can't leave."

  "Oh, that's right. Essential personnel and all that. I'll let you know if I see anything interesting."

  Kelly hoped Naughton and his goon had gone to the memorial service, or better yet, were out at the farm. He drove to the converted depot, parking a half block beyond the building. He donned a ball cap against the sun and approached on foot, walking decisively, trying to appear purposeful rather than furtive. He climbed the steps to the large porch. It ran the length of the building. He knocked at the door, planning to act surprised if anyone answered – pretending he expected to see someone else. He'd apologize, say something about having the wrong address, and leave. But, as luck would have it, no one came to the door.

  Mail in the mailbox and a newspaper lying near the door in a plastic bag were two more indications there was no one around. He was tempted to look at the mail, but decided he'd have a hard time explaining if someone saw him.

  A set of blind-covered windows offered no glimpse of what lay within. At the end of the porch, a second set of steps led to the gravel parking lot. Kelly glanced around as he descended, but saw no one who might see him.

  He wandered past the ground-level garage to the back of the building where he looked in the dumpster, finding it empty. Beyond the dumpster stood an old garbage incinerator, its rusting smokestack supported by struts connected to the building. He wondered if the incinerator was used any more. If nothing else, it would be an efficient way to dispose of incriminating documents. He worked open the heavy iron door. He couldn't see anything, but there was no smell of recent smoke.

  That left the loose trash behind the dumpster, back in the corner and along the walls where a few volunteer saplings and weeds had managed to root in the shade. The trash included plastic bag remnants, old bottles and cans and a long-abandoned sweatshirt – perhaps left by a homeless person who had taken refuge there. He did find some envelopes, but nothing of interest. A poster for a punk band touted an appearance last January. Finally, something of interest – an old packing slip, still in a plastic pouch, from North Star Laboratory Supply. The enclosure was dated May of last year, indicating delivery of 20 BSL-3 rated HEPA filters and a quantity of six portable Steri-Bright UV-C 4.0 units, whatever those were. None of it meant much to Kelly, but it suggested Naughton wasn't completely idle.

  Kelly had just stepped out from around the dumpster when a familiar black, mud-spattered SUV drove into the parking lot. Kelly winced, knowing he was spotted. Glare on the car windows obscured the occupants, but he had no doubt who it was. He kept walking, past the garage, acknowledging the car with a nod and slight wave, playing the role of casual passerby who just happened to cut through the urban, albeit private, parking lot, something he hoped wasn't too unusual, given the proximity to the bike path. He also tried to hide his face, tilting his head to keep the brim of his hat low.

  The car slowed, in part to allow the garage door to open, but also, Kelly assumed, to scrutinize the trespasser. Once the car pulled into the garage and was out of sight, Kelly broke into a sprint, making sure he was long gone before anyone could come from the garage to confront him. He jumped into the Delta 88 and pulled away from the curb, watching in the rear view mirror, but he saw no one before he made the corner.

  Seriously amped-up from the adventure, Kelly desperately wanted to talk to Jessica, but she was busy at the POA meeting. He texted her, suggesting another trip to Roger's Pub after work, saying he had some news.

  Arriving back at work, he sought out Bennie, finding him in the hallway outside the bio-analytical lab. He related the story of getting spotted. "I assume it was Naughton and his goon in the car. I didn't wait around to find out."

  "I wonder if Naughton goes anywhere without that guy."

  "Maybe not."

  He showed Bennie the packing slip. "This is all I found."

  Bennie didn't seem too impressed. "What is that stuff?"

  "I'm not really sure, but I'm thinking it means he's been doing some research. Doesn't it?"

  Bennie shrugged. "I guess. Is that important?"

  Kelly stared at the packing slip. "If the research has something to do with the murders, it could be a clue."

  "If you say so."

  Kelly had expected Bennie to show a little more interest, but maybe Bennie was right. The packing slip by itself did nothing to implicate Naughton. Kelly looked through the window of the bio-analytical lab. "I suppose I could ask one of the techs about this stuff." The techs seemed busy, hunched over microscopes, drawing liquids with pipettes, or operating one of several centrifuges. "Maybe I can catch one of them later in the break room."

  "Yeah, you wouldn't want to interrupt them while they're playing with all that blood, poop and pee."

  Kelly chuckled. "On the one hand, those are great jobs; on the other hand, you don't want to get any of that stuff on either hand."

&nbs
p; As Kelly headed back to his desk in the administration commons, a text came in from Jessica, agreeing to the Roger's date.

  The afternoon seemed to pass slowly as Kelly worked on the logistics for the upcoming studies. A little after five, he met Jessica outside the conference site.

  "So, what's your news?" she asked, after a welcoming kiss.

  "I'll tell you at Roger's. I was excited about it at first, but now I'm thinking it's probably nothing."

  They set out for the restaurant, choosing to walk. High clouds building in from the west gave them a break from the sun, and though it was hot and muggy, a nice breeze compensated for the humidity. They took the "scenic" route, choosing a neighborhood of apartment buildings rather than a shortcut through the K-Mart parking lot.

  "How'd things go at the POA?"

  "They had me on the welcoming table this morning," said Jessica. "Then busses took us to the service. Nice service. Full venue. They allowed news cameras in the back. After lunch, we had a breakout session for the new sales employees, basic orientation stuff. Later, during breaks, we did individual meetings – answering questions about health insurance, their 401(k), their responsibilities for the company car, and the big thing – their phone options. That seemed to be what they cared about most."

  "Excited group, I bet."

  "Should be. They get great perks and even better pay."

  "I hear there's a hundred applicants for every opening."

  "I believe it. The resumes are impressive; an elite crowd. Cream of the crop when it comes to ambition and personality."

  "And good looking."

  "I suppose. They certainly have to present themselves well."

  The restaurant was busy, but not full. The hostess seated them in a booth that overlooked the street. Kelly cracked open one of the complementary peanuts and tossed the shells on the floor.

  ''We're not the only Naughton-ites here,'' noted Jessica. The visiting employees were apparent by their upscale business-casual attire, some with Naughton gift bags, and some still sporting their name-tag lanyards.

  Jessica pulled a brochure from her purse. ''Did you see the agenda?" She turned the page toward Kelly, craning her neck to read as she pointed to a session called Personal Security. "You suppose that's because of the murders?"

  "I don't think so. The sales people cart around samples worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. That's one reason they don't drive cars with the company logo."

  "Hundreds of thousands?"

  "Sure. I've heard that some sales people ... maybe not at Naughton ... but at some companies, might have a million dollars of product they're responsible for."

  "In samples?"

  "Some drugs are damn expensive, at least until the patents run out."

  Jessica stared off in space, deep in thought as she cracked open a peanut. She looked back at Kelly. "Could the murders be related to misdirected samples? Drugs being sold instead of going to doctors?"

  "I suppose anything's possible, but accounting for the samples is serious stuff. I don't know all the safeguards, but I do know that doctors have to sign for them."

  "Do you think the police are investigating that angle?"

  "I hadn't thought about it, but I bet they are. Any time there's something valuable involved, it's got to be a possible motive."

  The waitress returned and took their order. Fried clams for Kelly, and Cobb salad for Jessica.

  Unlike Kelly, Jessica stacked her peanut shells in a pile on the table. She selected another from the basket. "So, what's this news you said you had?"

  "I thought I discovered something significant today, but the more I think about it, it's probably nothing. I thought if I could find evidence that Naughton was actively involved with research, that it would prove he was hiding something, but I don't think that's true anymore. Just because the cops didn't see bubbling flasks over Bunsen burners doesn't mean he's hiding anything, and they did say he has a nice lab." Kelly went on to tell the story of his visit to Naughton's building, and getting discovered as he left.

  "You actually went dumpster diving?"

  "Well, no, though I did look. It was empty. All I found was an old packing slip in the weeds by the building." He pulled it from his back pocket and passed it to Jessica. "All it proves is that he ordered some stuff from a lab supply company."

  "What is this stuff?"

  "HEPA filters ... I've heard of those on vacuums and stuff. The other gadget, I have no idea."

  Jessica dug out her smart phone. "Well, let's find out." She tapped away, searching the Internet."HEPA refers to High-Efficiency Particulate Air filters. For bio-medical applications, it says they're used to prevent the spread of airborne organisms. And BSL-3 ..." she refined the search. "That stands for Biosafety Level, and 3 is second highest." Her eyebrows rose. "I wonder why he needs that?"

  Kelly pulled out his phone and joined the search. "BSL-3 filters ... one application seems to be for clean rooms – rooms where you don't want any contamination getting in. Seems there are some industrial applications, like electronics, not just bio-medical."

  "Check this," said Jessica. "This other thing, the Steri-Bright UV-C 4.0. That's a germicidal ultraviolet light unit." She read from the screen: "'Four feet tall, it can be used as a floor unit, mounted on a wall, or hung on a ceiling,' and it has a 'variable reflector that can be adjusted for wide or focused application. The unit can also be configured for 360 degree decontamination.'"

  The food arrived, and for a time they fell silent, eating, but also thinking about Naughton's equipment order.

  "I bet those light units aren't cheap," said Kelly, as he dipped another clam in tartar sauce.

  Jessica consulted the packing slip. "He bought six."

  "When Amundson said Naughton had a nice lab in his building on 2nd Avenue, the old depot, I sure didn't imagine it including something as elaborate as a clean room with HEPA filtration and ... what were they again?"

  Jessica looked again to her phone, which was still on the web page. "Ultraviolet germicidal light units."

  "Ultraviolet ... that would be invisible, right?"

  "I think so. Sounds right."

  "When Bennie and I were at the farm, I remember Naughton and his guy, Ivers, going into the poultry barn with a lamp, and I could see the light in the windows, but then it went out."

  "You think they were doing something with UV lights?"

  Kelly thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Probably not. Amundson said there was just some junk in there. He'd have noticed four-foot-long fancy lighting fixtures." Kelly ate another fried clam. "At the time, it didn't seem odd that the light went out ... like they had gone into some internal room or something, but Amundson said it was just one big open barn."

  "What kind of experiment would require a dark barn?"

  "And no equipment. Pretty mysterious."

  "Now I'm getting curious." Jessica stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. "Let's go out there some time. I'd like to see the place."

  "Sure." They fell silent again as they finished eating. Kelly drank the last of his water, then met Jessica's gaze. "Are you thinking we should go tonight?"

  Jessica gave a shrug of acquiescence. "I'm up for it."

  "Okay. Let's go now while there's still some light."