“I assumed it picked up that rotten, garlicky smell in the garbage,” Horace said.
“Never mind the garlic,” I said. “The thing reeks of Dr. Wright’s perfume. That damned scent made me sneeze every time I got near her, and it permeates that bag.”
“Did you look inside?” the chief asked.
“I thought you’d rather do that,” I said.
“Let’s take it to my—to Dr. Waterston’s office,” the chief said. Horace picked up the purse in gloved hands and carried it out. Dad followed. The chief glanced out the kitchen windows briefly, as if puzzled how it had gotten dark so quickly. I realized he’d spent much of the day in Michael’s office, where the heavy thermal curtains were tightly drawn to keep out drafts. Then he sighed and followed Dad and Horace.
“I should get back to the rehearsal,” Michael said. “You should go up to rest soon.”
“Soon,” I said. “I just want to see this through.”
I followed Horace, Dad, and the chief, bringing up the rear of the procession, keeping far enough back to prevent the chief from getting annoyed.
Back in Michael’s office, Horace spread out a large sheet of paper on the desk and set the purse carefully on it. I sat down on a book box and tried to fade into the shadows.
No such luck.
“Did you touch the purse?” the chief asked me.
“Only with my gloves on,” I said.
“Leave your wraps here,” Horace said over his shoulder as he examined the bag. “I’ll need to take samples of the fibers.”
Presumably he needed to eliminate any threads I’d left on the purse from any the killer might have deposited. I struggled out of my wraps and left them on one of the book boxes.
I almost fell asleep while Horace was fingerprinting the purse’s exterior. Or perhaps I did fall asleep. But I was jolted wide awake by the chief’s voice.
“Let’s have a look inside.”
I watched from afar as Horace carefully began extracting the purse’s contents.
A gold pen.
A small perfume vial—presumably the scent I found so annoying.
“When you get a chance, tell me what that vile stuff is,” I said. “So I can write to the manufacturer and complain.”
They ignored me.
A small leather-bound notepad. We all watched eagerly as Horace flipped it open, but we saw only blank pages. Horace shook his head and reached back into the purse.
“Uh-oh,” Horace said.
He pulled out a small bottle.
“Is this what I think it is?” Horace handed the bottle to Dad.
“Yes,” Dad said. “I’m not surprised.”
“You did say to keep an eye out for it,” Horace said.
“It could explain everything!” Dad exclaimed. “Of course there’s no way to tell before the tox screen comes back.”
“But I bet this is what poisoned her,” Horace said. They were nodding happily at each other and didn’t seem to notice the chief’s growing irritation.
“It accounts for her condition and the timeline,” Dad went on. “I was never happy with the notion of it being digitalis. Too slow.”
“And she didn’t drink enough of the tea,” Horace said, nodding. “If they’d put enough digitalis in for that much to kill her, she’d have noticed the taste. And what’s more—”
“Just what in blue blazes is that thing?” the chief asked.
“Insulin,” Dad said. “Was there a syringe?”
Horace peered into the bag again, then carefully inserted his hand and pulled out a syringe. Dad shook his head as if sadly disappointed at the murderer’s clumsiness in leaving such clues behind.
I leaned a little closer so I could see the vial. There was a tiny amount of clear liquid in the bottom.
“It’s nearly empty,” I said. “Is this a bad sign?”
“A very bad sign,” Dad said. “That much insulin could easily have killed her.”
“But you don’t know that it was given all at once, do you?” I asked.
“We don’t know, but the odds are it was,” Horace said. “There’s a date on the label. The prescription was refilled yesterday.”
“So either she picked up her insulin yesterday and had to use it several times within twenty-four hours, which seems unlikely,” Dad said. “Or it was given all at once.”
“You’re sure that much insulin would be fatal?” the chief asked.
“Oh yes,” Dad said.
“How fast?”
“That would depend on how it was administered,” Dad said. “IM—in the muscle—maybe four to five minutes. Could take more like ten to fifteen minutes sub-Q—under the skin.”