Ties That Bind

Chapter Thirty-Six.

The state medical examiner's office, a tree-shaded, two-story red-brick building on Knott Street, looked more like a real estate office than a morgue. Kate Ross parked in the lot at the side of the building, crossed the well-tended lawn, and climbed the steps to the front porch. She asked for assistant ME Sally Grace at the front desk, and moments later she was sitting in Grace's office.

Dr. Grace, a slender woman with frizzy black hair, had a dry sense of humor and a sharp intelligence that made her an excellent witness. Kate had seen her testify on several occasions, and had spoken to her in the course of a few investigations.

"I pulled the file on Michael Israel," Grace said after they got the small talk out of the way. "Norman Katz did the autopsy, but he's not with the office anymore."

"Did Dr. Katz conclude that Israel committed suicide?"

"That's the official finding."

Kate heard the hesitation in the ME's voice. "You don't concur?"

"It would probably be my finding, too, but there are a couple of anomalies. Not enough to challenge Norm's conclusion," Dr. Grace said quickly, "but, on the phone, you did ask me to see if there was any way that Israel's death could have been a homicide, so I looked at everything from that angle."

"What did you find?"

"Two things. First, Israel had six hundred nanograms per milliliter of temazepam in his blood. Restoril is the trade name. It's like Valium, and the usual therapeutic level would be somewhere between one-hundred-ninety and five-hundred-seven nanograms per milliliter, so the level is high."

"Could someone have drugged Israel and faked the suicide?" Kate asked.

"It's possible, but taking a sedative makes sense if Israel was going to commit suicide. He might have needed to calm himself to get up the courage to do the deed. Now six hundred nanograms per milliliter is high, but it's not so high that it suggests that someone drugged him. He could have just taken too much."

"Okay. You said two things bothered you. Give me the rest of it."

Dr. Grace showed Kate a color photograph of the crime scene. Israel's upper body lay on a green desk blotter stained red by the blood that had pooled under his head. Grace pointed to a raw red spot on Israel's temple.

"That's the entry wound. Do you see the black halo of gunshot residue that surrounds it?"

Kate nodded. The residue looked like a perfect circle that had been drawn with a compass.

"When a person commits suicide by gunshot, they usually eat the gun or shoot themselves in the temple. With a temple shot, the victim is going to screw the barrel into his skin, so I would expect to find a tight contact wound, not this circle of gunpowder. Israel's wound was a near contact, which means that the gun barrel was not touching his temple when it went off. Six hundred nanograms per milliliter of temazepam might not have been enough to put out Israel completely. If it did put him under, the dose is light enough so he could have awakened. If Israel was drugged first and someone put the gun in Israel's hand and held it next to his temple, he could have flinched and that could account for the near-contact wound.

"Of course, this is pure theory. Israel might have flinched anyway before he pulled the trigger."

"You're sure he shot himself?"

"I'm sure he was holding the gun when it went off."

Grace pointed to Israel's right hand in the crime scene picture. A layer of soot peppered Israel's thumb and index finger and the webbing between them.

"That's gunshot residue on his hand, which you'd expect to find if he was holding the gun when it was fired."

Kate took a moment to digest what she'd been told.

"If you had to bet--suicide or homicide--where would you put your money?"

Dr. Grace tossed Kate a copy of the suicide note that she'd found in the file.

The note said:

Pamela Hutchinson was carrying my baby. When I refused to marry her she threatened to expose me. I shot her with the gun I am using to take my life. I made the murder look like a mugging gone wrong. No one suspected me, but I have never been able to forget what I did and I can no longer live with my guilt. Maybe God will forgive me.

"What do you think?" Grace asked when Kate had read it.

"The note is pretty formal. I'd expect something a little more emotional. But . . ." Kate hesitated then answered: "Suicide."

"Me too. And it would take very clear evidence to make me change my mind. What made you look into this after all these years?"

"A fairy tale, Sally. A fairy tale."