A Deceit to Die For (31 page)

McIntosh moved between them to his chair behind the desk and motioned for them to all sit down.

“Boys, I know the doctor has already told you the bad news. I’m very saddened by this sudden twist in the investigation. The autopsy report was a surprise to us all. Your father’s apartment is still being treated as a crime scene. I’m afraid you may not have access for a couple of days.”

Gilbert cleared his throat.

“Has your team found anything else at the apartment?”

“No, nothing. And that is troubling. There were no fingerprints and nothing suspicious. The cyber-forensics team agrees. Definitely, a secure deletion of selected files. If we learn anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

He turned to the doctor, who cleared his throat.

“First of all, I want to say that we are lucky to have found anything at all. We ordered an expanded set of blood tests because of Gilbert’s suspicion of possible foul play. As bizarre as this may sound, I believe your father was unintentionally killed. He had high levels of sodium thiopental in his blood.”

“You mean sodium pentothal?” asked Gary.

“Well, that is a common brand name, but not its technical name.”

“I thought that was used for anesthesia.”

“It’s a barbiturate, a common anesthetic agent although not preferred these days.”

“Every spook flick I’ve ever seen shows it being used for interrogations.”

“Yes, it has been used for interrogation, though its efficacy is mostly psychological. It’s not the truth serum TV makes it out to be. It does have a calming effect though, making people less inhibited and easier to handle.”

“Who would do this?” asked Gary tersely.

“I’m afraid the motive for the crime is outside of my area of expertise.”

“So, he was killed by an injection of sodium thiopental?”

“Yes and no. Given in a large enough dose, it is fatal, as are most drugs, but your father was not given a lethal dose. Whoever did this definitely did not intend to kill your father.”

“But, he’s still dead.”

“Yes, and that is because your father was taking a prescription drug that contained pentoxifylline. You probably know he suffered from intermittent claudication.”

“You mean the pain in his legs whenever he exerted himself too much?”

“Well, yes, that is a symptom, but it is a bit more complicated than that. Your father took at least a double dose of his medicine. I can’t be exactly sure how much because I don’t know exactly when he took it, and so I cannot accurately calculate the amount of metabolic elimination. Unfortunately, pentoxifylline and sodium thiopental are a dangerous mix that can result in pulmonary edema, which is what actually killed your father.”

“So, whoever gave him this injection was not expecting him to die?”

“That’s right. They were probably totally surprised when he started having trouble breathing.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but what exactly is pulmonary edema?” asked Gilbert.

“It is a build-up of fluid in the lungs, which makes it difficult to breathe, inhibiting the transfer of oxygen to the blood, so the exact cause of death is hypoxia, a fancy word for a lack of oxygen.”

“So, he drowned in his apartment?”

“You could say that. After we realized that he had been given this drug, we looked more closely and found a large number of miniscule cotton fibers on his tongue. He had apparently been gagged with some sort of cloth. There is also bruising on his wrists, but so slight it could easily have been overlooked as well. We can deduce from this that he was also tied up, but apparently for a very short time.”

The doctor reached down and pulled a folder out of his bag and handed it to Gary, who was sitting next to him.

“Here is the full report if you are interested in reading it.”

Gilbert watched his brother begin to open the folder and immediately stood up.

“Dr. White, I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you agreed to get involved. We want to get to the bottom of this and your help has been invaluable.”

Gary closed the folder and stood up as well. Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief inside. He had read dozens of autopsies. They were not pleasant reading, and he knew that in his current frame of mind, Gary would not want to know how much his dad’s brain weighed, what color the liver was or what the contents of his stomach were.

The doctor grabbed his bag and stood up.

“If you have any questions later, feel free to call me anytime.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

The doctor left, and Gary turned back to the Inspector. He was visibly shaken.

“So, what is going to happen now? Do we have any leads? Who would do this?”

McIntosh looked down at his desk as he replied.

“Well, the case is now an official homicide. Right now the only thing we have to go on is that document you say your father gave to your sister. I really need to get a copy of that. How soon could you have that for me?”

“I’ll call my sister and ask her to get that for you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks. I wish we were able to tell you more, but at this point, we don’t have many leads. In fact, without you, this might have been missed altogether. Our men will be looking at this from every angle. But if you know more or learn something new, anything, please share it with us. We don’t have much to work with.”

“Believe me, Inspector, if we find out anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

“One more thing, if this was related to that document, and it appears to have been, then you might be in danger here in London, so I am assigning a team to protect you for as long as you are in the city, or until this is solved. It is a team of six working in two-man shifts around the clock.”

“Are you sure that’s necessary?”

“No, I’m not sure of anything, except that whoever did this is extremely professional and therefore dangerous. That’s why I am sending these men to protect you. They will do their best to stay out of your way.”

“We appreciate the gesture,” Gary said, “Can we ask you to inform us the moment you have any leads or developments in the case?”

“You have my word.”

><><><
 

Salih walked up to the door, slipped the key into the door and turned the lock gently. He wanted this to be a surprise. His first wife lived in the flat next door. He rented two, so that his new bride had her own home. It was better that way. Less fighting and jealousy. He opened the door, stepped softly into the entryway and removed his shoes. He could hear the television in the bedroom, so he tiptoed in that direction. The door was ajar. Alicia was lying on the bed watching a reality show, still in her pajamas. She was definitely spoiled, but that had been part of what attracted Salih to her in the first place.

Salih glided into the room and ran his hand along her back, which elicited a loud scream.

“Damn it, Salih. You scared me to death. Why aren’t you at work?”

“Sorry darling,” he smiled at her. “I thought I would come home for lunch today and you could help me unwind a bit.”

She knew what that meant and smiled eagerly,

“Whatever you want, darling. What would you like for lunch?”

“We can worry about that later,” he said nibbling her neck and inhaling the fragrance of her perfume in deep breaths. She rolled over and gave him a long, passionate kiss. Then he directed his attention to her beautiful neck. He had just begun moving down when his cell phone rang on the nightstand. He grabbed it quickly and looked at the number. It was from the office, probably Ahmet.

“Sorry darling, I have to take this.”

But before he could stop her, she grabbed the phone out of his hand and began running away from him through the house, laughing and playful.

“Alicia, bring that back. This is a really important deal I’ve been working on.”

“We don’t need more money, honey. Ignore it. You can call him back in twenty minutes.”

He cornered her in the kitchen. She was still laughing and holding the ringing phone above her head, then behind her back, trying to keep it out of his reach. To her, it was a game. Salih hated this part of marriage. Still, he knew it would come to this sooner and later, and this was clearly the time. Without another word, he stopped and looked into her eyes for about three seconds. She was still smiling and laughing when his hand came out of nowhere and slapped her across the face.

“Alicia, I am your husband and I said give me the phone. This is no game.”

It was hard for Salih. He was not by nature a violent man, but this was the hard truth of marriage. Even his first wife, a girl raised in a good Muslim family, had needed a few beating to bring her to heel. It was an unfortunate reality of the gender divide. Alicia dropped the phone and ran back towards the bedroom crying. He waited until he heard the door slam before answering the phone. She would get over it. They always did.

“Hello.”

“Salih, this is Ahmet. Is there a problem? The phone must have rang ten times.”

“No, I was just in the middle of something.”

“Good, I was worried there for a moment. Look, I heard the news. This is not good.”

Salih grimaced. “You are referring to the autopsy. No, it was not what we had arranged, but there is still no way to trace anything back to us.”

“Maybe not, but they will almost certainly connect his death with the document.”

“Yes, and we will retrieve that tonight. Another death will just give them more to clean up. We are safe.”

“And, what if they have made copies?”

“Well, there is nothing we can do about that. I’m sure the girl will tell us what we need to know, and we will deal with that if it is an issue. However, without the original, our people can always claim that the digital copies were actually created out of thin air. We must keep faith.”

“And your plan B is ready?”

“Of course. May Allah make it unnecessary.”

“
Amin.
A thousand times over. Still, I have reviewed it. Not bad, but lacking in imagination. I have a bold addition to make, one that gives us even more leverage, one that creates the chaos we have always thrived on. I will send you a rough draft within thirty minutes. Please advise me about teams we could use to execute it, and provide an operational analysis and a risk assessment before tomorrow morning.”

“Will do.”

Salih hung up the phone and looked towards the bedroom door in frustration. He would have to go back in there and get his shirt so he could go to work.

CHAPTER
28

T
IRA,
T
EXAS 
 
Gwyn turned over to look at the clock on the bed-side table. It was 4:45, which meant it was almost eleven o’clock in London. She picked up her iPhone to check her e-mail and messages. She was hoping to hear something from Gilbert. Nothing. As soon as she finished her run, she would give him a call. She stood up, pulled off her nightgown and started feeling around on the chair for the jogging shorts, athletic bra and the shirt she had laid out the night before. Then she stuck her iPhone in her pocket just in case Gilbert decided to call.