Dead to Her(70)

“What yellow mark?” She ignored her lawyer’s signal to be quiet. While Iris had been comforting her, Noah had been calling the police. “What happened to him?”

“You tell me.”

Keisha’s eyes stung with frustrated tears as the lawyer spoke for her. “My client has already told you she doesn’t know how Mr. Radford came to be ill.”

“Shall I tell you what we know?” Detective Anderson leaned forward. “Would that make this move along quicker, Keisha? Save us all this ‘my client isn’t able to answer that question at this time’ from your attorney while we play cat and mouse? We’ve had a long night of talking to people and we’re all tired. I know I am.”

Keisha nodded. What could they know? There was nothing to know.

“For the purpose of the tape, Keisha Radford is nodding,” Washington said before Anderson took the lead again.

“We know that the victim was the only person in the house who drank the cartons of coconut water kept in the kitchen refrigerator, and it’s been confirmed by his housekeeper, his friends, and his personal assistant that he always drained a carton after running on the treadmill in the mornings. That was his routine and he stuck to it. Furthermore, we know that the night of the seventh of July, your husband spoke to Judge Noah Cartwright about changing his will to remove you from it. They were meeting yesterday morning to discuss it further. Given that you signed a postnup, this would leave you with nothing even in the event of your husband’s death. It’s also been confirmed by several sources that during the course of the evening of July seventh your behavior was erratic and you screamed at the victim’s housekeeper, Zelda Williams, in full view of your guests, blaming her for your husband’s displeasure and saying that she was trying to get rid of you, with such force that the party was ended early. All good so far?”

Keisha glanced at the lawyer beside her before muttering, “Yes.” If they said it was right, it must be right.

“We found an empty bottle of champagne in a bedroom in the victim’s house—the room that had been occupied by the previous Mrs. Radford, now deceased. We’re testing the rim for your DNA.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Keisha said. “It’s calm in there. I took the champagne with me.” She did remember that. Hiding in Eleanor’s room, trying to get the haze in her crazy head to settle.

“You couldn’t sleep because of the argument.”

“Partly. A lot of things.” Within the panicked confusion of her brain, a solitary thought punched to the surface. Why hadn’t they mentioned the photograph yet? Why hadn’t they asked about that? That’s what Billy had been so angry about. So why weren’t they talking about it?

“Eleanor Radford had a vial of morphine and a packet of syringes and needles in her bedroom drawers that you knew about. You’d found some marijuana in the same place and smoked it with Marcie Maddox, am I correct?” She smiled at the lawyer. “Don’t worry, I can’t charge your client for that.”

“Where are you going with this, Detective?”

“When we found the yellow stain on the study carpet close to the empty coconut water carton, we took samples of both the stain and the carton to check that the stain was in fact from spillage when your husband collapsed.”

“I don’t understand,” Keisha muttered.

“One of the syringes from Eleanor’s drawer is missing. Ethylene glycol, better known as coolant—coolant bought solely for your car—had been injected into Mr. Radford’s coconut water at some point last night. There was a needle hole in the top of the carton. The yellow trace from the liquid splattered on the carpet when Mr. Radford threw it into his study trash can.”

Keisha’s thoughts swirled in kaleidoscope colors. Coolant in his coconut water?

“Your husband was poisoned,” the detective finished.

Poisoned? Keisha could barely breathe.

“You were almost very lucky,” Washington said, resting his thick arms on the table. “Mr. Radford did suffer a heart attack, either as a result of the injury sustained in his fall or as a side effect of the coolant entering, and starting to affect, his system. Ethylene glycol is broken down in the body relatively quickly. Given Mr. Radford’s head injury and heart attack, without the staining it’s unlikely that traces of coolant would have been found by the medical team before it had vanished. They wouldn’t have been looking for it. You could have gone home, gotten rid of the evidence, and then even if others had raised concerns it would be too late.”

“Mr. Radford was a powerful man. Powerful men have enemies,” her lawyer responded, leaning forward. “There were over a hundred people at Mr. Radford’s party. Any one of them could have done it. Do you have this syringe?”

“I’m sure we’ll find it.” Anderson this time, the two officers tag-teaming their attack. “We’re searching very thoroughly. Mr. Radford is a powerful man—and he has powerful friends. Trust me, this investigation is not going to be short on resources. And none of those two hundred and forty-eight, at last count, invited guests were about to be cut out of their husband’s will in preparation for divorce.”

Detective Anderson looked across at Keisha. “And then there’s the matter of the emails you’ve had from your relatives in England asking you when you’re going to be getting money for them. They were deleted, but you didn’t empty the trash on your laptop. I refer you to these two in particular.” She slid two sheets of paper across the table. “For the tape, I’m showing Mrs. Radford exhibits 11a and 11b. The first one is from your uncle Yahuba. That line, ‘you know what you have to do.’ And also this, from a Dolly Parker: ‘Hope you’re having fun! Is he dead yet? Love ya!’ Could you explain the meaning of those to me? Or is it as obvious as it seems?”