Busy Bees

Chapter 4 – Inquest

Chapter 4 – InquestI figured I ought to go to the station and start a file on the death of Ben Tracy but, in my mind, I really felt that his passing wasn’t due to foul play and that the paperwork could wait. We had all of the witness statements on paper and that was the key anyway. I headed instead toward Genesis. I wanted to try to make up for our cancelled date with Dana.

I stopped in the hospital gift shop and contemplated the selection. I’d stopped and bought her flowers before and, though she professed to like them, I wasn’t feeling it from her and giving them just wasn’t me. I really wanted to take her something she’d truly savor and enjoy. I had to settle for a stash of M&Ms and chocolate bars.

As I rounded the corner to her room, Dana’s nurse, Tron, cornered me in the hallway.

“What happened today sweetie?”

“Well hi to you too Tron! What do you mean?” I didn’t think word was out about the death at the festival yet. We were planning on keeping things on the Q-T as much as possible, pending the coroner’s report.

“Sorry Sheriff. I meant with Dana. She was back here pretty early and she’s seemed a little depressed ever since.” He flipped his hand back through the air in an exaggerated gesture.

I’m pretty sure Tron is gay and I’m even surer he knows the true score between Dana and me. Still, I was cautious. “Oh. Unfortunately, duty called for me and our outing got cut short. She was really looking forward to spending a little time away from the hospital, I think. I’m going to try to make it up to her, at least a little bit...” I really didn’t know what else to stay to him so I just tipped my head his way and then ambled into Dana’s room.

Dana was sitting up in bed seeming to stare through the wall mounted television. The sound was on mute but she didn’t appear to hear me come in. I cleared my throat.

Dana startled and turned toward me. When she realized it was me standing there, the corners of her mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles but it was enough to make me relax and let out a breath.

I went over and gave her a quick hug. “Brought you a little something to start to make up for our epic fail of a date today.”

“It’s not your fault Mel. It is what it is. So, what did you bring?” Her eyes took on a little bit more of a glow.

“It’s not much. I held out the bag.”

Dana took it and peered inside then let out a whoop. “Yes! Chocolate!”

“Well alrighty then! I know how to brighten your mood now!”

She squeezed my arm then ripped open a Take 5 bar. I pointed at it. “You like those, I take it?”

“They’re one of my favorites; a little bit of everything I like all in one candy.” She dumped the rest of the bag into her lap.

“Good to know.”

“Mel, there’s nothing here I don’t like. Thank you!”

“Promise me you’ll hid most of that from the staff and not eat it all at once!”

“Promise.” She held up her hand in a Girl Scout style promise gesture. “So, anyway, fill me in. What happened after I left?”

“Not much. The coroner came and took Tracy to do an autopsy and I interviewed the two contestants whose dishes he tasted prior to keeling over.”

Dana raised her eyebrows. “How did that go?”

“About like I expected it to. They’re both twice my age plus and they’ve both been entering food contests for years. I didn’t get any sort of sense of hanky panky at all. My deputies took statements from the staff and the other judges while I went to relay the news to the widow.”

“Ouch! Bet that wasn’t fun?”

“It never is. And, frankly, she’s an odd one.”

“How so? Do you suspect her of something?”

“No, I don’t really suspect her of anything...It’s just, well, it’s hard to put a finger on but she’s a woman in her 40’s who appears to live in the hippy, flower child era of the ‘60s. She’s just odd...they were odd as a couple...I don’t know. Something just feels off about the whole mess.”

“When will you hear from the coroner?”

“Probably not until Monday. Hopefully this death has got something to do with natural causes and I can put the whole mess to bed.”

I passed a pleasant hour with Dana just chatting about every last thing we could think of then I convinced Tron to let me take her to the cafeteria for dinner. An aide helped me to get her out of her bed and into a wheelchair and away we went. The food we had certainly wasn’t like the delicacies of our famed Mushroom Festival but it wasn’t half bad either and certainly better than lukewarm food on a tray.

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Monday, May 26th, 2014

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I was at my desk by 7:30 on Monday morning. Before it was even 8:00 AM, Holly a sergeant on the force and my right hand in the office, buzzed me.

“Dr. Kreskie is on line two Sheriff.”

“Thanks Holly.” Well now, that was fast! Must have been a routine autopsy. I picked up the phone and addressed the County Coroner, Dr. Lucas “Luke” Kreskie. “Hi doc. How are you this morning?”

“Busier than a one armed paper hanger in a wall paper factory!”

“That so?” I just had to laugh. Luke Kreskie was about my dad’s age and often spoke in the same folksy, down home style as my mom. It was humorous coming from a doctor and surgeon who was also the elected County Coroner.

“I only have a couple of minutes Sheriff. Got a full house over here. I just wanted you to know that I’m ruling the death of Ben Tracy a homicide and ordering an inquest.”

I almost fell out of my chair. And back to business we go! “What! Why?” I was dumbfounded.

“I’ll courier over the preliminary toxicology report but the bottom line is he suffered a myocardial infarction – a heart attack – from arsenic poisoning that appears to have been going on long term. We’re examining hair samples. I should know more later today.”

“Long term arsenic poisoning? So, not in the food from the festival?”

“No ma’am. The festival food was fine. No traces of anything unusual.”

“Okay doc. Thanks for the heads up.”

Kreskie said his goodbyes quickly and hung up. I laid my forehead down on my desk for a few seconds. “Wow!”

I buzzed Holly. “Can you come in here please?” She was standing in my doorway seconds later.

“Yes Sheriff?”

“Kreskie is sending his pre-lim tox screens on the Ben Tracy death at the Mushroom Festival this weekend over by courier. It seems he was poisoned.”

“Poison mushrooms Mel?” The look on her face was one of sheer horror.

Holly and I had been friends on the force long before I stepped into the temporary role of Acting Sheriff. I thought nothing of her calling me Mel in the office and frankly I felt bad about unintentionally misleading her about the poisoning. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to throw you there. Not mushrooms; believe it or not, arsenic!”

“Rat poison; in this day and age?” She’d instantly switched gears from horrified to quizzical.

“I know, right? Anyway, he’s ordering an inquest. We need to gather up the witness statements that were taken on Saturday and all of the photos and so forth and start a case file.”

“I’m on it.”

“And please, let me know as soon as the courier gets here.”

“Will do.”

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The tox screens may have been preliminary pending the results of the hair sample tests but Kreskie had also sent along his preliminary report and it really painted quite the picture. It was obvious he’d examined Tracy’s corpse closely and reviewed his medical records.

I gleaned from the report that the body of Ben Tracy, aged 44, showed evidence of heart and coronary artery disease. Those findings were backed up by Tracy’s medical history which also evidenced long term heart rhythm problems. Blood samples analyzed so far by the toxicology lab showed concentrations of arsenic and, to a lesser extent, the recreational drug MDMA know as Ecstasy on the street. No trace of either arsenic or Ecstasy was found in any festival food tested.

My own limited knowledge of medicine and forensics was sufficient enough for me to know that ingesting either Ecstasy over a long term or arsenic could be causes of heart rhythm problems that could lead to a coronary attack. And if someone was lacing Tracy’s Ecstasy with arsenic... I shuddered at the thought.

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A couple of hours later, with an inquest taking shape and the hair samples back, I resigned myself to opening a murder investigation. Tracy’s hair samples showed he was a long term user of MDMA and that he’d been ingesting arsenic somehow for months. It was time to find his drug supplier and to figure out how he was getting the arsenic – either mixed with Ecstasy or by some other means.

I radioed my patrol deputy, Joe Treadway, and asked him to meet me at the Tracy home. He’d been on the scene at the Festival taking witness statements so it wouldn’t take long to brief him on the latest developments. We had a couple of Detectives on the force but they were already bogged down with cases from a rash of other craziness that was going on in Muskingum County. I’d just have to lead this investigation myself.

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I met Deputy Treadway in front of the house and gave him a quick rundown then I led the way up the front walk. Mrs. Tracy didn’t meet me at the door this time. In fact, as a raised my hand to knock on the storm door, I realized the main door was ajar. Inside, I could see a bit of the front foyer. There were coats strewn across the part of the floor that was visible.

I unbuttoned my holster, put my hand on my gun and then whispered to Joe, “Something isn’t right.”

I stepped to the left of the door and he went to the right to take protection from the solid walls at either side. Once we were in protected positions, I rapped and called out, “Mrs. Tracy?” The only response was the crash of something hitting the floor somewhere deep in the house.

We had to go in. I pulled open the screen and stepped inside and right, gun drawn, toward the parlor. Treadway went left toward the stairs.

The parlor was in a shambles but empty. I could see through to a dining room of sorts that also looked a mess. There was more noise coming from what I now realized must be the kitchen. Someone swore and sent a drawer full of utensils clattering to the floor.

I motioned my deputy into the hallway and then I stepped quickly but quietly through the parlor into the dining room. We were hoping to catch whoever was trashing the place in the act. Approaching the door between the dining room and the kitchen with caution, I caught site of a highly disheveled Liberty Tracy in the act of trashing her own home. She was yanking out drawers and dumping them. Cabinets hung open everywhere.

I stepped directly into the doorway, service weapon in front of me at the ready. Treadway did the same from the opening into the kitchen at the end of the hallway from the foyer.

“Mrs. Tracy?”

She whirled and flung an oven mitt she was holding at me. Not realizing what it was at first, I ducked instinctively and scooted left, toward Treadway. He holstered his pistol in a practiced motion while moving in on her quickly. He flung his arms around her flailing form and tried to subdue her.

Her eyes were wild and she was full of adrenaline. I hit my mike and called for backup as I moved in to assist. It was all we could do to wrestle her to the floor after a herculean effort on both of our parts.

“The wolves! The wolves! Stop them! You have to stop them!” She kicked and screamed and cursed. I hung on for the ride.

“She’s high and tripping hard on something Sheriff!” Treadway was doing everything in his power to keep her from getting loose from the two of us.

I just shook my head. I had nothing to add to his heated observation and no idea what to do next except to hold her down until more help arrived. I keyed my mike again and radioed for an ambulance too. Liberty Tracy was going to need to be thoroughly detoxed before we could get any useful information out of her.