“Leo, it’s all right,” Vivian said. She didn’t want him to burn any bridges on her account, and she especially didn’t want any of this coming to his uncle’s attention. She met the coroner’s eyes and said simply, “I’m here as a favor, too. It’s not my choice whether to say anything.”
He sighed. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Our police don’t give regular folks much reason to think highly of them these days. And depending on who was involved…”
He glanced back at Vivian, and it took all her concentration to keep a straight face. He might suspect that one of the city’s mob bosses wasinvolved, but he wouldn’t know anything for sure if she didn’t give it away.
He sighed again. “Not as if I didn’t know what I was getting into with this one.” He fixed Leo with a stern glance. “You’re trouble every time you walk through that door.”
“I’ve only been here four times,” he protested.
“As I said. Trouble. Each time.” The coroner’s words were clipped, but there was a small smile on his lips as he said them. “And I don’t envy you, your uncle, or this young lady, whatever hard choice she has to make, so I won’t push. For now.”
“Thanks for your help, mister,” Vivian said, meaning it sincerely. He didn’t have to help them. Hell, he could have called the cops in as soon as he’d figured out what was in that bottle and had a full police welcome waiting for them when they arrived. That he hadn’t gone that route told her that he actually cared something about helping folks in the city.
“Take care, Doc,” Leo said, giving a small salute as he turned to go. He stepped into the hallway, holding the door for Vivian. “You ready?”
“Sure.” She gave the medical examiner one more nod then followed Leo out.
“A moment.”
The quiet call came once they already were several paces down the hall. Vivian hesitated as she exchanged a glance with Leo. She didn’t like the thought of what else the medical examiner might have to say. But odds were, even if it wasn’t good news, she needed to know it. She gestured for Leo to wait where he was as she went back.
She paused in the doorway, and she and the doctor considered each other for a long moment. He rubbed his jaw, looking torn. Vivian waited silently, unable to stop herself from glancing around the lab. It still gave her the creeps. She realized she was shifting nervously on the balls of her feet and planted her heels firmly on the ground.
“How a crime happens tells you something about the person whodid it,” he said at last. “We usually see that sort of slow poisoning I mentioned in very particular circumstances. It’s usually someone close to the victim, someone who didn’t want to get caught and could afford to wait. Someone with a grudge, so maybe they didn’t mind seeing their victim suffer. Maybe they liked it a little.”
Vivian nodded. That made horrible, stomach-churning sense. “And when they just dump the poison in and walk away?” she asked, trying to sound matter-of-fact and failing, even to her own ears. “What does that usually mean?”
“That they wanted the job done fast,” he said, talking quickly as though he was telling her this against his better judgment. “Which probably tells you one of two things. Either your poisoner wasn’t afraid of getting caught, because he has the right sort of connections or reputation to keep him safe.”
As anyone in the mob might have. Vivian nodded. “Or?” she prompted when he hesitated again. She understood why. It had to make him uneasy that they wouldn’t tell him who had been the victim of the poisoned brandy.
“Or it was someone who was feeling a little desperate, and he wanted to get it done before he lost his nerve.”
“I thought poison was usually a woman’s weapon,” Vivian pointed out. “That’s what everyone says, anyway.”
The coroner smiled grimly. “I’ve heard that, too. And in the slow cases, that’s often true. Women who feel like they don’t have any other options, who’ve been badly treated or think they’ve been wronged, might poison their husband or mother or brother because they wanted to escape them or to punish them. But I’ve seen plenty of men use poison too. I wouldn’t rule anyone out on sex alone.”
Vivian nodded slowly. “How long are you giving us before you take this to the police?”
The coroner rubbed his jaw again. “Depending on who your victim was, there’s no guarantee they look into it. Not if it’s a case they’vealready closed. On the other hand, poisoning sells papers, so journalists are usually happy to pick those stories up. And if it got some kind of press attention, that might earn enough public interest that the police would have to do something about it.”
“How long until you take it to a newspaper, then?” Vivian tried not to shudder, imagining a reporter prying into the Henrys’ family life. What if they wrote about where Bea worked, and some politician decided to earn points with the temperance crowd by making an example of her? That sort of thing happened to Black girls who got caught stepping outside the law if they didn’t have someone powerful or popular keeping them safe. And Vivian didn’t know if Honor’s bribes and connections would be enough to protect her friend.
The doctor met her eyes. “I’m keeping a record of those two suicides. If there’s another arsenic poisoning from either neighborhood, anything that could be connected to one of them, that’s when your time runs out. I’m not going to leave a murderer running around this city.”
Vivian nodded. “Thank you.”
He sighed. “Let’s just hope I don’t regret it.”
NINE
“Alba’s pregnant.”
The news was delivered in a whisper almost as soon as Vivian walked in and Bea closed the door behind her. Vivian stared at her, then at the open bedroom doorway, where she could just see Dr. Harris sitting with Alba, who was lying down on one of the beds. Della Henry hovered nearby, all three of them talking softly together. Dr. Harris nodded, jotting something down in his notebook before taking out his stethoscope and bending toward Alba once more.
“What do you mean, pregnant?” Vivian demanded. At Bea’s annoyed look, she added, “Does that mean Pearlie was…”
“The father? Yes, unless Alba is a lot sneakier than I can give her credit for,” Bea said. She sounded dazed as she spoke. “She was working herself into a full-blown panic fit after I said that about him being killed. It was a good thing Mama had me run for Doc Harris, and lucky he was in his office when I got there.”
