“Does this have anything to do with Sophie Randall’s death? I heard that someone gave her poisoned chocolates.”
“Who told you that?”
“It’s all they’re talking about at the Westmont.”
Quinlan wondered if Peter Ragland had been opening his big mouth.
“Is it true?” Paulson asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss Mrs. Randall’s case, except to tell you that she was poisoned.”
“And you think the same person poisoned my father? Is it Robert Chesterfield? Do you think he killed Sophie Randall? Everyone knows about the run-in he had with Sam Moser.”
“I really can’t discuss the Randall case.”
“Oh my God, I just remembered something. My father called me two days before I found his body. This would have been in the afternoon. He said he’d just gotten a box of chocolates in the mail and he wanted to know if I’d sent it. I said I hadn’t. When I found my father, there was a pile of mail on a table in the entryway next to the mail slot, but I never saw the box of chocolates.”
“I didn’t see any mention of a box of chocolates in the police reports.”
Paulson stared into space for a moment. Then her features hardened. “The back door was open,” she said.
“What?”
“Father always locked all the doors. But the back door was open. If there was poison in those chocolates, the person who sent them could have taken the box away after he died.”
“There was no mention of the back door being open in the police report.”
“I didn’t discover it until I came back to the house to get some clothes for the funeral, a few days after the police had left. It didn’t occur to me that it might be important until now. I don’t evenknow that Father wasn’t responsible. It’s also possible that one of the investigators forgot to lock the door when he left.”
“That’s a possibility. But the info about the door is helpful. Thank you.” Quinlan handed Paulson his card. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
“Thank you for caring,” Paulson said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The office of the state medical examiner was in a tree-shaded, two-story, redbrick building that had once been a Scandinavian funeral home. The roof over the front porch was supported by white pillars, and the porch was partially hidden from view by arborvitae, split-leaf maples, and other shrubs.
Max Rothstein came out to greet Morris Quinlan as soon as the receptionist announced him. The state medical examiner was a Santa Claus look-alike with a beer belly and full white beard. His deep voice, sense of humor, and ability to make the most obscure medical facts understandable made him an excellent witness.
“What can you tell me about the cause of death in Sophie Randall’s case?” Quinlan asked when they were seated in Rothstein’s office.
“It was definitely cyanide poisoning. I found traces during the autopsy, and the chocolates were all doctored.”
“Was there anything special about the chocolates?”
“I had the lab look at them. It’s a national brand. The killer could have bought them in any state in the union. And there’s nothing distinctive about the box or the wrapping paper thatwould let us narrow down where it was purchased. The chocolates were mailed a day before Christmas so the odds on anyone remembering who mailed them is next to zero. There were no prints on the wrapping paper, the box, or anything else.”
“Did you get a chance to look at the autopsy report in Arthur Gentry’s case?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“Arthur Gentry had been dead for several days before Eileen Paulson discovered his body, which makes a conclusive diagnosis of cyanide poisoning difficult. Cyanide has a relatively short half-life, anywhere from minutes to hours. That means toxicological detection of cyanide to conclusively confirm cyanide poisoning is feasible only within the first few hours following exposure.
“However, there were some findings consistent with cyanide poisoning. Gentry vomited, and the vomit around his lips was black. The tissue of the liver, lungs, spleen, and heart was bright pink, and the stomach lining was badly damaged and blackened. This is consistent with cyanide poisoning. And there’s one other finding that may help you. Gentry ate chocolate before he died.”
“The same type that killed Randall?”