Slow Kill (11 page)

“He died early this morning,” Chase said.

“Good for him,” Kerney said. “That’s what he said he wanted to do. Hopefully, he went out easy.”

“In his sleep,” Chase replied with a nod.

“The best way to go.” Kerney slapped his hands on his legs and stood. “Thanks, Captain, for your courtesy and understanding,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound as disingenuous as it felt.

“My pleasure, Chief.” Chase rose, walked around his desk, and put a hand on Kerney’s shoulder. “Call me the next time you’re in Santa Barbara, and I’ll stand you to a drink or two.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

With the afternoon sun in his face, Kerney drove out of the police parking lot. At the very least, it had been an interesting two days, nicely topped off by Chase’s sly gambit to probe Kerney’s intentions and do some subtle grilling about what he’d learned from Lou Ferry.

Kerney decided to drive to the beach later on and catch another sunset. He also decided to start a background check on the Spaldings-all three of them-and Debbie Calderwood when he got home to Santa Fe.

But first, he needed to find an electronics store, buy a tape recorder, and dictate everything he’d learned about the Spaldings, Debbie Calderwood, and Captain Dick Chase while it was still fresh in his mind.

T he next morning, Kerney’s flight took him over the oak woodlands and chaparral-covered hill-sides east of Santa Barbara, the evergreen coastal mountain forests, and the glittering low California desert. He changed planes in Phoenix and from his window seat looked down on the high mountains and rolling grasslands of the remote Gila Wilderness, which gave way to mesquite-covered desert scrubland cut by wide, sandy arroyos. It felt good to be going home.

After landing, Kerney went straight to his office. Within minutes, Helen Muiz, his administrative assistant, swooped in bearing paperwork. She immediately asked about his California misadventure, currently the hottest back-channel gossip topic in the department.

In her late fifties, Helen had worked for the PD for over thirty-six years, longer than any other employee, civilian or commissioned. Stylish, witty, and a grandmother twice over, among her many duties Helen served as the lightning rod for rumors, hearsay, and prattle that circulated throughout the department, all of which came to her sooner rather than later. She dispensed with it quickly, separating fact from fiction and squelching the falsehoods.

In private, Helen dealt with Kerney as an equal, which he didn’t mind at all.

“Well, are you having an affair with a woman currently under suspicion for the murder of her husband?” Helen asked from the comfort of the chair at the side of Kerney’s desk.

Kerney tried hard to act put-upon by the accusation. Instead, he broke into a smile and laughed. “Not guilty.”

“Does your lovely wife know about this?” Helen asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Not yet,” Kerney said.

“I shouldn’t wait too long to tell her, if I were you. Some evil person might delight in putting a nasty spin on what happened in California, and feed Sara some misinformation.”

“Who would do something like that?” Kerney asked.

“Not everyone in this department loves you as much as I do, Kevin,” Helen said with a devilish wink.

“Name these malcontents,” Kerney jokingly demanded.

Helen laughed. “And destroy my network of informants? Never.”

She handed him a number of letters on department stationery, each neatly paper clipped with file copies and addressed envelopes. “Please sign these so they can go out today.”

“Perhaps I should read them first,” Kerney said.

Helen rose to her feet. “Good idea. Do you have anything for me?”

Kerney gave her the cassette tape of his recorded notes on the Spalding affair. “Have it transcribed and ask Sergeant Pino to come see me in ten minutes.”

“As you wish,” Helen said from the doorway.

“Did you buy any horses, or were you too busy professing your innocence to the police?”

“I got four good ones,” Kerney said.

Kerney’s open office door signaled that all were free to enter without knocking. Sergeant Ramona Pino stepped inside to find Kerney reviewing and signing letters. He smiled at her and raised an index finger to signal he needed a minute to finish up.

She took a seat at the small conference table that butted against Kerney’s desk, opened her notepad, and quickly reviewed her activity log on the Spalding case to make sure she was totally up to speed for her briefing report.

Ramona had stumbled badly on a major homicide case late last summer, but that hadn’t kept the chief from approving her promotion to sergeant. Since earning the new shield, Ramona had returned Kerney’s vote of confidence by doing her best possible work.

Kerney signed the letter, tossed it in the out basket, and sat back in his swivel chair. “So, where are we?”

“According to the pharmacist here in town who filled Clifford Spalding’s prescription, his wife called to say that the pharmacy in Santa Barbara was faxing the refill information to him, and she would pick it up when it was ready, which she did. She paid by credit card. Just as a matter of interest, I queried the credit card company and got a copy of her charges for that monthly billing cycle. On that same day, twenty minutes later, she charged a bottle of expensive perfume at Kim Dean’s pharmacy.”

Kerney’s eyes glinted with pleasure at the news. He interlocked his fingers, and tapped his thumbs together. “Go on.”

“A clerk who works at the pharmacy and knows Mrs. Spalding as a customer said Dean waited on her personally. The clerk found that odd, because Dean never bothers with customers who come in to buy sundries. She thinks, but isn’t sure, that Dean left Spalding at the perfume counter for a few minutes to do something in the back before he rang up the sale.”

“Did Sergeant Lowrey inform you about the pill found in Spalding’s possessions?” Kerney asked.

“She did,” Ramona said. “Not only is it a fake, but the analysis of the active ingredient in it perfectly matches the medication level in the blood sample that was drawn during the autopsy.”

“Which suggests Dean and Claudia Spalding switched the pills,” Kerney said.

“Yes, it does,” Ramona said. “If Spalding had lived one more day the evidence would have been gone, Chief. According to the Santa Barbara pharmacist Sergeant Lowrey spoke with, Spalding was down to his last pill when he died.”

“Was Dean present when you spoke to the clerk?” Kerney asked.

“No,” Ramona said. “I didn’t talk to her at the pharmacy. I hung around until she went next door to a deli for lunch and spoke to her there.”

“Will she keep her lip buttoned about your inquiry?”

Ramona nodded. “Dean’s a pushy, demanding boss who contradicts himself and then lays the blame on the clerk. She puts up with it because she’s older, divorced, timid, and needs the job. She promised not to say a word.”

“What else have you got?”

Ramona flipped back to a page in her notebook. “I checked with both Dean’s and Spalding’s cellular telephone providers. There has been a flurry of calls between the two, starting almost immediately after Sergeant Lowrey talked with Claudia Spalding in Montecito.”

“How many?” Kerney asked.

“Five yesterday and two this morning. Mrs. Spalding made first contact.”

“Do you have anything that can connect Dean to the fabrication of the pill?” Kerney asked.

“We know the inert ingredients are different, the weight is slightly off, and the shape isn’t uniform based on the manufacturer ’s specs,” Ramona replied. “So, I took a cue from your research into how he might have done it, and called a pharmacist here in town who said that duplicating the exact size and shape of the original pill wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done. He suggested we look for all the compounds Dean used.”

“Did the pharmacist have any idea about how Dean might have shaped and sized the pills?” Kerney asked.

“He said that except for the grooves on either size of the pill, it’s oval in shape, which is very common. Pharmacists use that kind of pill all the time, in many different sizes. He said if he were to do it, he’d make each pill as close in size to the original oval as possible, match the color, and then hand-cut the grooves to make them look right. The tedious part would be the final shaping.”

“How does all of this help us?” Kerney asked

“The analyzed pill shows small striations in the grooves. We’ve got tool marks, Chief.”

Kerney grinned. “Coordinate with Sergeant Lowrey and get an affidavit done for a search warrant at Dean’s home and business,” he said. “We want to look for the tools he might have used and the raw ingredients identified by the lab findings.”

“Will do,” Ramona said.

“Then take everything we have that supports motive, opportunity, and means directly to the district attorney and ask if he’ll approve arrest warrants for Dean and Spalding based on circumstantial evidence. If he agrees that we have probable cause, synchronize the busts with Sergeant Lowrey so both of them are picked up simultaneously.”

“Shouldn’t we take a statement from Dean first?” Ramona asked.

“Normally, I’d say yes,” Kerney said. “But according to Dean’s clerk at the pharmacy, he’s a bully. If we stuff the facts we have down his throat, maybe he’ll crack.”

“I’ll make the collar at his store,” Ramona said, “and tell him Claudia is talking. That should shake him up.”

“Give the newspaper a heads-up and ask them to have a reporter and photographer standing by outside. Take two uniforms with you and have them take their time putting him into a unit.”

“Make it a perp walk,” Ramona said.

“You’ve got it,” Kerney said. “Good work, Sergeant.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ramona said as she closed her notebook and rose. She hurried out of the office before the pleasure she felt at the chief’s compliment turned into a noticeable blush.

District Attorney Sid Larranaga personally scrutinized carefully any arrest and search warrant affidavits prepared and submitted to his office by Sergeant Pino. He held her partially responsible for mistakes in a homicide case last year that resulted in the deaths of two innocent, mentally ill individuals, one in a totally uncalled-for SWAT gun battle, the other by suicide.

Ignoring Pino, who sat quietly in front of his oak desk, Larranaga read through the affidavits a second time, jotting notes as he went. Because of the complexity of the facts, the suppositions, and jurisdictional issues, he wanted to be absolutely clear that probable cause existed.

He punctuated his last entry on the legal pad with a flourish and looked at Pino. “As far as the arrest affidavits go, you and this Sergeant Lowrey have given me only the possibility of a motive for murder. The rest of it is just an interesting theory regarding opportunity.” He tapped the paperwork with his pen.

Ramona waited a beat before responding. She and Ellie Lowrey had each put in at least three hours of intensive work preparing a strong circumstantial case. “The forensic evidence proves the victim was murdered,” she said, “and both Dean and Claudia Spalding had the opportunity to do it.”

“Yes, but which one?” Larranaga countered, crossing his hands over his belly. “Dean? Possibly. Claudia Spalding? You can’t seriously expect a judge to approve an arrest warrant for Mrs. Spalding based on the fact that she bought perfume at Dean’s pharmacy after picking up her husband’s prescription somewhere else.”

“It establishes a chain of events,” Pino said. “Quite likely Spalding met with Dean to switch the medication.”

“Or Dean could have switched the medication without Mrs. Spalding’s knowledge”-Larranaga shifted his weight in the chair-“at some other time or location. Dean could have been acting on his own. The fact that Dean left Mrs. Spalding alone for a few minutes in the front of the store to do something in the back room doesn’t establish collusion or conspiracy between the two parties. I’m sure if the clerk had seen the actual exchange you would have included it in your affidavit.”

Larranaga brushed a hand over his new-look, swept-back haircut. “Also, you don’t have a strong motive for Mrs. Spalding to plot and carry out the murder of her husband. In fact, I don’t see that you have one at all. She was literally having her cake and eating it too, and she was bound by the amended prenuptial agreement to keep Dean in the dark about it.”

“What about the arrest and search warrants for Dean?” Pino asked.

“Again, a motive for Dean isn’t clearly articulated,” Larranaga said. “Other than noting he was Mrs. Spalding’s lover, you’ve presented nothing that points to an inducement or reason to kill on his part. Was it jealousy? Money? Did he want Spalding dead so he could marry Claudia? Or was he perfectly happy with the affair as it stood? Why hasn’t he been interviewed?”

“Given how the victim was killed and what went into accomplishing the crime,” Ramona said, “I think probable cause has been established that Dean committed murder, and that the evidence to that effect can be found at his house or business.”

“Even with the lack of a clear motive, I agree that it is probable that Dean, with his expertise as a pharmacist, could have done it. That’s why I’m approving the search and arrest affidavits for Dean only. If he confesses and implicates Mrs. Spalding, then your problem is solved, and the California authorities can pick her up without a warrant.”

Larranaga signed the affidavits and Ramona went to find a judge. During a ten-minute wait outside chambers, she called both Sergeant Lowrey and Chief Kerney to give them the news about the rejected Spalding arrest affidavit. Lowrey promised to take another crack at Claudia after Dean was in custody. Kerney told her to stick with the plan to rattle Dean and break him down if possible.

The judge issued the warrants without any probing questions. Five blocks away from Dean’s place of business, Ramona met up with two uniformed officers and went over how she wanted the bust staged. At the pharmacy, a photojournalist from the newspaper waited in the parking lot. The three officers hustled inside to find only the store clerk, Tilly Gilmore, and a female customer standing at the counter.