Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(91)
“Because she did. Hydrogen sulfide gas causes the organs to shut down, resulting in a heart attack. Unlike carbon monoxide, it doesn’t turn the skin cherry-red or any other color.”
“So it looks like a natural death, but it isn’t?”
“Yes, the only way the gas would be detectable at autopsy is that it sometimes leaves a faint rotten-egg smell in the organs, but the pathologist had a head cold. We think that’s how he might have missed it, if he did.”
Judy cringed inwardly. “Can they confirm that’s how she died?”
“The coroner can confirm it by ordering a special test of her blood for the gas. That takes a month or so to do, but it’s easily done.” Detective Boone paused, glancing over his shoulder at the FBI, DEA, and ICE types. “I can tell you that it’s becoming more common in rural areas like ours as a way to commit suicide. We’ve had cases where people mix the chemicals in the car, then close themselves inside. We started hearing about it last year and put the word out to first responders. We send in the Hazmat Unit to respond to a suicide like that.”
“How sad,” Judy blurted out, the horror of the day catching up with her. She sensed that the meeting was over because the FBI men were slipping their notepads inside their breast pockets and even Detective Boone stood, brushing down his slacks again.
“Judy, please don’t speak to the press, if they call you or show up at your office.”
“Of course not, I know the drill.” Judy stood up, gesturing at the table. “I’m assuming you want to keep my stinky phone, for evidence.”
“Yes, thank you. Might be time for an upgrade, eh?”
“Ya think?” Judy managed a smile, and Detective Boone guided her to the door.
“I’ve arranged for a uniformed officer to give you a lift back to the city, considering your service to the county today.”
“Thanks.” Judy flashed on the horrific explosion in her VW. It gave her a jolt, but she had to put it behind her for now. Detective Boone held open the door, and the other Chester County detectives, A.D.A.’s, uniformed officers, and FBI, DEA, and ICE agents gathered around her, thanking her and handing her a flurry of business cards with gold seals and embossed badges.
“I’ll take you out back to avoid the press,” Detective Boone said after the good-byes were finished, leading her out the door, through the crowded waiting room, and out a side door down a hallway. Judy let herself be steered past a time clock next to a tray of metal slots filled with punch cards, then a scheduling board covered with wipe-off Magic Marker notations, out the back to a small police parking lot. The sunlight was waning, and without her phone, she had no idea how long she’d been inside.
“What time is it?” Judy asked, disoriented.
“Four thirty.” Detective Boone gestured to a uniformed police officer who stood waiting beside a Kennett Square police cruiser, its back door open.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“We’re happy to do it. Officer Kitt will be your driver. Tell him where to take you.” Detective Boone put a paternal hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for everything you did. While we appreciate your efforts, I’m officially informing you that we hope you never do it again.”
“I won’t. Maybe.” Judy smiled. “Will you keep me posted?”
“No.”
“Aw, come on,” Judy whined, and Detective Boone didn’t suppress a wry smile.
“Okay, if there’s anything you need to know, I will.”
“I wish I understood why they killed Iris or what she was doing with the money.”
“We’ll keep investigating, you can be assured of that.” Detective Boone opened the back door of the cruiser while Officer Kitt went around the front, climbed in the driver’s seat, and started the big engine. “Travel safe. Please give my best regards to your aunt.”
“Will do, thanks.” Judy eased into the cruiser, and Detective Boone shut the door behind her, closing her inside. The cruiser took off, taking a left turn to bypass the media, then wound its way through Kennett Square and hit the highway.
Judy rested her head back on the hard plastic seat, closing her eyes, but she didn’t rest. Awful images flooded her brain, of white-hot explosions and fresh red blood. She could hear the noise of the blast, Roberto moaning, and Carlos cursing. She flashed on Father Vega, feeling shocked all over again that he’d tried to stab her to death. The priest had hidden behind the cloth to win the trust of Iris, Daniella, and an entire congregation, but in the end, Father Vega had betrayed them all, even his own, Father Keegan. Judy thought about Iris, who had been so savagely murdered, and it made her angry and frustrated that she still didn’t know why. Judy had believed she wanted justice, but what she really wanted was to understand why, though no explanation of motive could make her truly comprehend the human capacity for evil.
She opened her eyes, gazed out the window, and watched the highway whiz past. Twilight fell, painting the sky black as they headed toward the city, and she wondered what she was going back to, since everything had changed. Her mother. Her aunt. Even Frank was gone. She didn’t have a car anymore. She didn’t even have a purse or a phone. She thought about stopping at a pay phone to call her mother and the office, but the police already had. The Rule 37 motion had been answered, and the rest of her cases could wait. It was impossible to think about work in the aftermath of so much destruction and death.