"I understand.”
“Just make sure you exercise the appropriate precautions" at an times.”
There were no appropriate precautions against someone like this, I thought.
"All of us need to be alert.”
"I understand," I said again.
"Donahue had no idea what he unleashed. Or better put Norring didn't. Though I don't believe our good governor handpicked this dirtbag. He just wanted his damn briefcase and probably gave Donahue the necessary funds and told him to take care of it. We're not going to get any hard time for Norring. He's been too careful and too many people aren't around to talk.”
He paused, adding, "Of course, there's your attorney and me.”
"What do you mean?”
"I've been clear - in a subtle way, of course - that it would be a damn shame if something got leaked about the briefcase stolen from Robyn Naismith's house. Grueman had a little tete-a-tete with him, too, and reports that Norring looked-a little queasy when it was mentioned that it must have been a harrowing experience when he drove himself to the ER the night before Robyn's death."
By checking old newspaper clips and talking to-contacts in various ERs around the city, I had discovered that the night before Robyn's murder, Norring had been treated at Henrico Doctor's emergency room after administering epinephrine to himself by injection in his left thigh. Apparently, he had suffered a severe allergic reaction to Chinese food, cartons for which I recalled from police reports had been found in Robyn Naismith's trash. My theory was that shrimp or some other shellfish had inadvertently gotten mixed in with spring rolls: or something else he and Robyn had eaten for dinner. He had begun to go into anaphylactic shock, had used one of his EpiPens - perhaps one he'd kept at Robyn's house - and then had driven himself to the hospital. In his great distress, he had left without his briefcase.
"I just want Norring as far away from me as possible," I said.
"Well, it seems he's been suffering health problems of late and has decided it would be wise to resign and look for something less stressful in the private sector. Perhaps on the West Coast. I'm quite certain he won't bother you. Ben Stevens won't bother you. For one thing, he - like Norring - is too busy looking over his shoulder for Gault. Let's see. Last I heard, Stevens was in Detroit. Did you know?”
"Did you threaten him, too?”
"Kay, I never threaten anyone.”
"Benton, you're one of the most threatening people I've ever met.”
"Does that mean you won't work with me?”
Lucy was drumming her fingers on top of the table and leaning her cheek against her fist.
"Work with you?” I asked.
"That's really why I'm calling, and I know you'll need to think about it. But we'd like you to come on board as a consultant to the Behavioral Science Unit. We're just talking a couple of days a month - as a rule of course.
“There will be times when things get a little crazy. You'll review the medical and forensic details of cases to assist us in working up the profiles. Your interpretations would be very useful. And besides, you probably know that Dr. Elsevier, who has been serving as our consulting forensic pathologist for the past five years, is retiring as of June one.”
Lucy poured her, lemonade on the grass, got up, and began stretching.
"Benton, I'll have to think about it. For one thing, my office is still in shambles. Give me a little time to hire a new morgue supervisor and administrator and get things back on track. When do you need to know?’
“By March?”
"Fair enough. Lucy says hello.”
When I hung. up, Lucy looked defiantly at me. "Why do you say something like that when it isn't true? I didn't say hello to him.”
"But you desperately wanted to.”
I got up. "I could tell.”
"Katie?”
My mother was in the window again. "You realty should come in. You've been outside all afternoon. Did you remember to put on sun block?”
"We're in the shade, Grans," Lucy called out. "Remember this huge ficus tree back here?”
"What time did your mother say she was coming over?”
My mother asked her granddaughter "As soon as she and what's his name finish screwing, they'll be here.”
My mother's face disappeared from the window and water drummed in the sink again.”
"Lucy!” I whispered.
She yawned and wandered to the edge of the yard to catch an elusive ray of sun. Turning her face to it, she closed her eyes.
"You're going to do it, aren't you, Aunt Kay?" she said.
"Do what?”
"Whatever Mr. Wesley was asking you to do."
I began putting the chess game back in its box.
"Your silence is a very loud answer," my niece said. "I know you. You're going to do it."
"Come on," I said. "Let's go get the wine."
"Only if I get to drink some."
"Only if you're not driving anywhere tonight."
She slipped her arm around my waist and we went inside the house.
####
Patricia Cornwell, Cruel & Unusual
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