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The Nitrogen Murder(31)

By:Camille Minichino


Dana expected a lengthy delay, but a young female uniformed officer was waiting for them at the top of the stairs and ushered them into a long, narrow room. Even the walls in this room are busy, Dana thought. They were covered with maps and flyers and pushpins, not limited to the framed bulletin boards.

Inspector Russell, whom Dana recognized from Matt’s description, sat at the end of the room behind a desk that was too small for his tall frame. His feet stuck out past the edge of the desk, into the area where Dana and Matt would be sitting. He pulled at the sleeves of his sports coat, slightly too short, and drew in his legs as they approached. If med schools rejected her, Dana decided, she’d investigate a career in personal shopping for cops.

Quick handshakes all around, and Russell got down to business. He put on half-glasses like Julia’s, minus the comment about getting old, and lowered his head to a sheaf of papers in front of him. Dana thought she’d never seen a pointier chin.

“I have your statement from last Friday evening, Ms. Chambers. At that time you indicated that your partner, Tanisha Hall, was not a drug user.” Dana gulped. She remembered the question, remembered deciding that a toke now and then, and a pipe at parties, did not constitute “drug use.”

“That’s correct,” she told Russell, clutching her purse to keep from wringing her hands.

“Well, that’s what I thought you said.” Russell leaned back in the chair until it hit the wall behind him. His head landed next to a poster on crime prevention. Bold letters and bullets shouted safety tips and information on burglar alarms, senior safety, holiday safety, personal security, domestic violence … the rest were hidden behind Russell’s broad shoulders. “But see here,” he said, holding up a fax, “this report you submitted to your supervisor says different.”

Dana shrank back, feeling her stomach clutch; Matt shifted closer to Russell’s desk and made a motion to view the fax. He looked more like her lawyer than a friend, and Dana wondered if she did need an attorney. She thought of the countless Law & Order reruns she’d seen and how “lawyering up” was a big deal.

Matt put Dana’s report on the table between them, so Dana could see the copy of what she’d given to Julia only a couple of hours ago. Dana remembered downloading the form from Valley Med’s Web site and filling in the blanks on the screen. At the bottom of the page was room for a brief summary of the CI, and she’d typed that in also. She’d assumed no one outside Valley Med would see it, certainly not the police. What would I have done differently if I’d known it was going to end on a cop’s desk? Dana asked herself, and thought, Nothing.

Matt pointed to QUESTION 10: TO YOUR KNOWLEDGE, WERE DRUGS INVOLVED IN THE CI?

Dana was startled by an x beside YES. She was sure she’d checked NO. What was this? A slip of her fingers? She’d have to explain.

“Uh, I’m sorry, this is an error. I meant to check no. Neither of us was using drugs.” That should clear it up, Dana thought, but still felt her mouth go dry.

“Not as simple as that,” Russell said. “Especially since we found rolling papers on her body.”

Rolling papers. Dana thought back to the convenience-store stop they’d made on Friday afternoon. Tanisha had bought a packet of her favorite, environmentally friendly papers, no flavored dyes or toxins, no glue. What did all that health consciousness get her? Dana thought.

“Papers are not illegal—” Dana began.

She stopped when Matt put his hand on her shoulder.

“Do you have anything else?” Matt asked Russell.

Russell smiled. Not a friendly smile, more like a “gotcha” smile. “As we speak, we’re searching the Hall residence in San Leandro.”

Dana’s throat closed up. She had no idea where Tanisha kept her stash, except far from where her daughter or her mother might come upon it. It’s just weed, she thought, but she didn’t dare say anything.

Some nonverbal communication that Dana missed had taken Russell and Matt to the side of the room, out of her hearing.

Inspector Russell’s briefcase stood under the small table. The soft-sided kind, not at all like the briefcase the Indian scientist left in her ambulance, but it reminded Dana of the one missing from her house. The police seemed to have forgotten about the Indian’s briefcase. No way was she going to bring it up now.

She thought back on her interview with Russell, and remembered Tom’s admonition: Better be careful what you tell them. And Julia’s warning: Avoid anything that would reflect badly on the company. She hoped she hadn’t said anything against that advice. Most of all, however, she wanted to get out of there without handcuffs.