Free Fall

39

We climb into Ceepak’s shiny hot wheels detective car and head south.

I use my cell to contact Christine.

“We need to talk to you,” I say in my most official junior detective voice.

“No problem,” she says. “You guys want coffee or something?”

“Sure. Do I have any?”

Christine laughs. “No. But I’ll go grab a couple cups at the Quick Pick Mini Mart.”

Come to think of it, that’s what I do every morning, too.

When I end my Christine call, Ceepak asks me to contact Chief Rossi. That means I get to try out the high-tech radio stashed under a sliding cover in the center console below a compact General Dynamics computer.

The Chief and Ceepak discuss putting “light surveillance” on our five suspects: Christine Lemonopolous, Monae Dunn, Michael Rosen (currently residing at the Sea Spray Motel), and David and Judith Rosen.

“We may also need to keep tabs on a Joy Kochman, a home health aide whose job at Arnold Rosen’s home was terminated. Her whereabouts, at this juncture, are unknown.”

Oh, yeah. Ceepak is good.

Joy Kochman, the nurse David and Judith fired so they could plant their spy, Christine, in Dr. Rosen’s house could be a disgruntled former employee, the kind that’s always taking a loaded pistol back to their former workplace and wreaking revenge. Maybe Joy took a pill instead.

Ceepak parks next to Christine’s VW Beetle in the Sea Village parking lot.

This is so weird.

We are going to interview Christine Lemonopolous in my apartment. I need to knock before I open my own door.

“Come on in, guys!”

Christine gives us our coffees, then perches on the edge of my bed. Ceepak takes my one Salvation Army chair. It cost me five dollars. The seat cushion was ripped. In two places.

I sit on the arm of my TV chair. It’s a recliner. That rocks. I try to maintain my balance and a little detective-esque dignity.

Ceepak drops the first bombshell.

“We now know that Dr. Rosen was poisoned and that, in all likelihood, you were the one who gave Dr. Rosen the pill containing cyanide that killed him.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she mutters.

I’m studying Christine’s face and hands. Looking for any ticks or tells. Some kind of body language that suggests maybe she’s faking her reaction.

I get nothing except shock.

“However,” Ceepak continues, “the fact that you are the one who put the tainted pill into Dr. Rosen’s hand doesn’t mean …”

“A paper cup.”

“Excuse me?”

“We always took Dr. Rosen’s pills out of the appropriate compartment and placed them into a small paper cup. Like a dentist uses for mouthwash. Dr. Rosen had a case of them left over from his practice.”

I have a brainstorm.

“We should dust the pill organizer for prints,” I say. “See who handled it.”

“I’m quite certain, Danny,” says Ceepak, “that each and every one of our suspects made contact with that pill organizer at one time or another.”

He’s right. My idea would be a waste of fingerprint powder.

Now Christine has an idea. “Monae was in charge of organizing the pills. She usually doled out the medicines into their slots early in the morning while Dr. Rosen was asleep. Said it gave her something to do besides watch TV. There’s not much good on at three or four in the morning.”

“We will be talking to Ms. Dunn,” says Ceepak, flipping through his spiral notebook. “As I was about to say, the fact that you literally gave Dr. Rosen the lethal pill or pills does not make you the murderer or even an accessory to the crime if you had no idea that some of the medicines you were administering were actually poison capsules.”

“Good. Because I didn’t.”

“Did you know that Dr. Rosen recently changed his will?”

“Yes. He mentioned it.”

“Do you know what changes he made?”

“No. He didn’t discuss any details. But …”

Christine hesitates.

Ceepak cocks an eyebrow and waits.

“He said Monae and I would be ‘very, very pleased.’”