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The Carbon Murder(63)

By:Camille Minichino


When the doorbell rang, Matt flicked his blanket off and went to answer. The simple movement lifted my spirits, and I felt great hope that his previous listless behavior was due to the medication that had put him in the hospital. The doctors had yet to tell us what would replace those drugs, but a moment of respite was welcome.

“Looking good, buddy,” I heard George Berger say, as the two men walked toward the living room.

Berger reached down to the plate on the coffee table and scooped up the last cannoli, the one both Matt and I had avoided because of the chocolate chips mixed into the cream. Not authentic, but Berger wouldn’t know that.

He offered a treat of his own, wrapped in a blue RPD folder. “We got a transcript from the Houston PD. They had a joint interview with the party who hired Nina Martin and an FDA inspector. They’ve released the text to us.”

I made a grabbing motion, and Berger pulled the file back, teasing. “Martin was hired by a woman named Penny Trumble. That’s going to be PT in the margin. And the interviewers are just listed as HPD for Houston PD, and FDA, for …”

The last words, fortunately unnecessary, were buried under chewing sounds.

“Thanks for dropping this by,” Matt said.

“Okay, have fun. And be prepared. Nina Martin was in Revere about a horse.”

“A horse,” Matt and I said, almost at the same time, with different tones. Mine was questioning; his was more like I thought so.

Berger had eaten his entire cannoli standing at the table. He brushed his hands together, sending powdered sugar into the air, and gave us a wave. “I got to take my nephews to soccer.”

“If you need me to explain icosahedrons …”

Berger smiled. “Thanks, Gloria. I’ll let you know.”

I turned immediately to Matt. “You sounded as though you expected a horse.”

He shrugged. “Not exactly, but I have been asking myself what are the possibilities why Nina would have Lorna’s phone number. One would be the connection to Lorna as a scientist, and the other would be to Lorna as a horsewoman. Trouble with you is, you always think science is the only thing someone does.”

I cleared my throat. “Is that a criticism?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. Let’s get to the transcript.”

A transcript. Something official, how different, I thought, from what we had so far—a wayward email, babbling from under Wayne’s handlebar mustache, Jake’s casual remarks at dinner. I rubbed my hands together the way Elaine would do when she saw a new hardback by one of her favorite writers. Berger, who was turning into my best friend, was smart enough to bring a copy each for Matt and me. We retreated to our reading corner and turned pages almost simultaneously, skipping the boilerplate such as time and place, and getting to the heart of the matter.




HPD: So you hired Ms. Martin when your horse died.





PT: Yes, Lucian Five. He was an Andalusian.





HPD: That’s a breed?





HPD: You have to say it out loud for the tape. PT: Yes, Andalusian is a breed. He had the most beautiful mane.





HPD: And the animal lived on the ranch with you and your niece?





PT: Yes. My brother’s girl. She stays with me and works on the ranch full-time. The Trumble X Ranch.





HPD: Okay. So you thought something was funny about how the horse died?





PT: Yes, it was horrible. He … beat himself to death, flailing around inside his stall. He tore the stall apart. We heard the noise, but thought it was just the wind since it had been stormy all evening; then in the morning, there he was. There was so much blood, and his face was disfigured …





I imagined PT was upset at reliving such a horrible scene. Nothing the transcript would pick up, however. We needed video, I thought, for a true representation of an interview.




FDA: Ms. Trumble, you said that just before this, you’d had a veterinarian install a microchip in the animal’s body?





PT: Lucian Five.





FDA: In Lucian Five’s body.





PT: Yes, on the side of his neck under the mane, so if he had a bad initial reaction, like a rash or anything, it would be hidden by the hair. FDA: Because if the rash showed, there might be points taken off at the show, is that correct? PT: Yes, dressage judges can be influenced by how well your horse appears to be taken care of, the grooming, how intricately his mane is braided, even the rider’s outfit.





FDA: And you took very good care of Lucian Five? Had regular checkups, that kind of thing?





PT: Of course. I know what you’re getting at. Lucian Five had the best in medical care. I’m telling you it was that chip.





FDA: Can you tell us why you had that chip implanted?