Chapter 8
The trip to the conservatory was fast and furious as she ripped through the 5 mile trip in what seemed like two minutes. As she parked outside, she saw several police cars, but no sign of anyone. She got out, staying until London stepped beside her. Together they walked through the main office to find the police waiting for her. She said, “I don’t understand why I was called.”
“You’re second on the list so once the night watchman came on and found the security system down he called us. Then you.”
Of course, Reggie was first. She shook her head. Why wouldn’t they have changed that?
The police let her enter the conservatory. One large plate glass window on the outside wall had been cracked, as if somebody had thrown rocks at it. But she knew it was particularly strong and would have taken decent force to break it. If it was just vandals, it was distressing, but a problem easily fixed. She walked through carefully, looking for damage to any of the plants, walkways, or internal parts of the conservatory. It was a huge area, and she took her time. With London at her side, she didn’t say anything, but carried on throughout the entire place.
She returned to where the police waited and said, “I don’t see anything missing or damaged in here, other than the plate glass window.”
One of the cops took notes. “Let’s take you to the office to make sure nothing there has been disturbed.”
“I can look, but can’t tell you for sure. I haven’t been through this area recently.” She backtracked. “I was here the day before yesterday, but I’m not sure I could tell you exactly what could be missing as I haven’t been working here for the last six months. I’ve been in England on a special project.”
“Can you contact somebody to check this out tomorrow morning?”
“I can do that,” she said. “The security cameras don’t cover this area, only the parking lot and entrances.
She walked through the offices, relieved the security was still in place on the other portions of the building. This section contained the main reception room for ticket sales and the gift shop. None of the other windows were broken. As such, she couldn’t quite understand why anybody would care to damage the conservatory’s glass walls.
She quickly walked through, finding that nothing looked disturbed nor damaged. If any inventory was missing, that would have to be checked tomorrow morning by someone who knew more than she did.
When she walked back outside, she stopped in the parking lot, addressing the police. “Has anybody searched the outside grounds?”
They looked at her, and one said, “Not yet.”
“I want to take a quick look around here. Some special plants are outside as well. The gardens are full of very particular species.” She led the way around to the side where the glass window was broken. A large series of flowering shrubs were here. She quickly walked through, but the dirt didn’t seem to be disturbed; the plants weren’t flattened, and no damage was visible. London and the police walked along the pathways, everyone taking a quick look. As she got to the far side and turned to look back, she froze. One of those pale olive clouds slowly approached London. She recognized what it was, even as her mind cataloged it was impossible.
“London, stop,” she shouted.
He froze and looked at her. “What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, her feet already picking up, racing toward him. “Back up slowly.”
With his arms folded and the other cops watching, he carefully did as she said. “What are you smelling?”
“Poison,” she said, her voice grim.
She approached from the other side, motioning for London to continue to back up. The cops all stayed where they were. She went around the side of the pathway where she’d seen the olive cloud and stopped. Crumpled on the ground was one of the security men. She saw the green floating, dissipating around him, and realized, once again, somebody had used poison for their own agenda.
She glanced at the nearest cop. “We have a body.” She bent down, her fingers going to the man’s neck. Not only was he not moving and she felt no pulse, but rigor had set in. She stood. “He’s been dead for a while, more than a couple hours at least.”
The cop asked, “Is it safe to approach?”
She assessed the green wave and realized though it told her poison was here, there wasn’t any danger. She called out, “Yes, it’s safe to advance.”
All the men, including London, arrived at her side. The security guard had crumpled on the side of the path. There were no obvious signs of an injury, just the fact that the body was rigid, stiff.
She stepped back and glanced around the pathways. “Check for footsteps.” She pointed out the rows of gardens beside them. “Do you have a flashlight?”
One of the cops turned his on and searched the gardens.
“Are you assuming this man was murdered? Maybe he died from a heart attack?” one of the cops asked. He stared at the body. “There is no bullet wound, knife wound, blood, nor obvious damage to the body. How can you be sure he didn’t just keel over and die naturally?”
She glanced at him and said, “I can smell the poison.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re Dr. Death, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “That’s what they call me.”
“Can you identify the poison?”
She nodded. “I can. Actually this time you probably can too. Smell the almond?”
The cop looked at the dead man. “But he doesn’t look like he’s been poisoned. There’s no foam in his mouth and no blue to indicate any kind of toxic reaction.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure how or why, I can only tell you the presence of arsenic is here.”
Another cop said, “That’s good enough for me. The ambulance is coming, and we called in forensics. The body count is rapidly increasing here. We need to get this solved fast.”
London glanced at her. “Are you staying here?”
She shrugged. “I don’t need to. Once the forensic team comes, they will go over this place anyway,” she said. “I just don’t understand. Why kill a security guard, break the glass window, and not do anything else?” She eyed the glass and frowned. She walked directly toward it and studied it with more scrutiny. “This isn’t an easy glass to break either. So why? Why bother?”
She stood outside the conservatory, studying the part of the garden that had been affected. She turned back and asked the police in general, “Does the security guard have a weapon?”
“He does,” one of the cops said. “He’s an off-duty cop, moonlighting. Not sure he’s carrying the weapon for his job here though.”
“Doesn’t matter. Has it been fired? A bullet quite possibly damaged the glass.”
London walked over to her. “Why would the security guard shoot an intruder?”
Another cop had joined them. “Maybe the intruder had a weapon as well.”
Moving carefully, she walked back to where the security guard lay, studying the angle of his body.
London stepped up behind her. “He’s not sporting any other injuries that we can see.”
She nodded, her face grim. “The coroner may find something when he moves the body.” She turned her gaze down the path, wondering at the green she had seen originally. Poison was one thing she was well acquainted with. That she saw the clouds of green wherever poison had been administered or such plants grew naturally in the wild was one thing. But she hadn’t recognized that dark green edge to the clouds she’d seen earlier. As if this toxin had layers to it. Or more than one poison had overlapped. Was the person who’d killed the guard working with poisons? Ingesting them? Why? None of this made any sense.
Stefan whispered in her mind, And that’s probably exactly what it was. Accept your intuition. It’s gold in our world.
She glanced around as if to make sure nobody else could hear Stefan. She couldn’t speak telepathically easily yet and definitely not in a way others wouldn’t notice. She pulled out her phone and called him. When he answered, she asked, “What does that mean?”
“Can you see where the source of that green is coming from?”
She turned around in a circle, observing the crime scene. “It’s like a bubble. It’s just sitting there.”
“Can you see a much fainter green energy drifting off to a specific side?” Stefan asked.
“Not really, no. I just see the green because it tells me it was poison, but not where it came from.”
“Not yet. You’re not looking deep enough.”
“I can’t tell anything. I swear to God, it’s my nose that sees the green cloud.”
He gave a short laugh. “A nose that sees?”
She made a jerky hand motion. “You know what I mean,” she said in irritation.
“Oh, I do, indeed, because you’re involving two senses and refusing to use them both effectively. But you will in time. You will.” Cryptic as always, Stefan ended the call.
*
London watched Fern, trying not to be obvious about it. Who the hell was she talking to? He heard the name Stefan, and that was enough to make his heart freeze. Everybody knew Stefan—if it was the psychic, Stefan Kronos, who worked with the police, and had for decades. But he was controversial. Did she know that Stefan? If so, how? He’d heard a lot of stories about her poisons that seemed over-the-top, too much to be disbelieved or believed. In fact, they bordered on fantasy. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do with the little bit of conversation he’d overheard.
He tried to hear more, but he got the nuances of her side of the telephone call more from the look of outrage on her face than from her actual words.
He turned his head to watch the cops, but didn’t feel he could leave her alone. Something odd was going on. That she smelled the poison from what, thirty feet away, was incredibly suspicious. But he’d been with her when they had received the call about the break-in. He turned back to the cops. “Any idea when this happened?”
The cop shook his head. “We took your call an hour and twenty minutes ago.” Coming up behind him, Fern said, “The conservatory is open until seven normally. Today’s Monday, so it closes about nine. It’s almost midnight now. Not a big window of opportunity.”
The cop nodded and made a note, walking away to talk with his buddies.
London turned and glanced at her. “Can you tell?” he asked abruptly.
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Can I tell what?”
“Either how long he’s been dead or the poison has been here?”
She turned her gaze to the dead man lying on the ground. He saw her nostrils flaring as if she sniffed the air. She bent her head to the left, but didn’t step forward. He calculated the distance from where they stood to the location of the dead body, and mimicked her movements. He lifted his head and sniffed the air, but couldn’t smell anything. “How can you smell a poison like that?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been doing it all my life.” She turned and walked toward her car.
“Must have been tough,” he said, running to catch up to her. “Even when you were little, I’m sure your parents were astonished.”
She turned to look at him. “They were. So?”
“I’m just wondering how you’re not dead. How did you survive all those years until you knew what you were doing?”
She gave him a flat stare that he’d come to recognize as telling him to mind his own business. Then she turned and walked off again. He watched her go, her shoulders and spine straight and stiff.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he called out.
She raised her hand and waved as if to say, “It’s nothing.” But she didn’t say the words, so it might’ve been an “F-you, I’m leaving” type of wave.
He shook his head, glanced around and realized he should leave too. Absolutely no point in staying here any longer. He’d have to catch a ride back with Steve and glanced at Fern. She sat inside her vehicle, staring at the conservatory. She hadn’t turned on the engine and wasn’t on her cell phone. She just sat there, staring at nothing. Her face blank. He rapped on the window.
She rolled it down and asked, “What?”
“You okay?” He motioned at her just sitting there. “I hope I didn’t say anything to upset you.”
“Finding dead bodies always upsets me,” she snapped. She turned on the car engine, then rolled up the window as she said, “I’m fine.” The window sealed shut.
She put her car in reverse and backed out in front of him. He watched as she disappeared from the parking lot into the night. Instinct had him run to the SUV, hop inside and follow her, leaving Steve behind. London couldn’t understand if it was to make certain she got safely home or he just wanted to ensure she didn’t run off anywhere else. Stefan’s name still rang in his mind. If she headed off to visit him, London wanted to know.
That he was following her for no good reason was something he needed to look at closely. Except instinct said not to let her out of his sight. She pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine. He drove past, gave a friendly honk so she’d know it was him and headed back to the conservatory to collect his partner.