Page 63 of A Rose of Steel
“You know what I mean.”
“You thinking it was suicide?”
“No.” I thought about my answer I’d just given and realized it wasn’t entirely how I felt. “I don’t know,” I changed my answer to go along with how I really felt, “because I don’t know if any of the people at the wedding were in California. And if they were, and brought some back with the purpose to kill him...” I let my voice trail off as I tried to get my thoughts together.
“What?”
“Why didn’t they just kill him there?” I shook my head. “Why wait?” I hunched my shoulders. “It doesn’t make sense. So maybe he is the one that put it in his inhaler.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know.” I stared at the wall trying to make my pieces fit together. “Okay. Say that’s not what happened.”
“It wasn’t,” she said.
“Say it isn’t,” I said again, “That means we would need to see who out of our suspects has gone to California recently and knew that the plant grew in Griffith Park.”
“They could have gotten it here,” she said and tightened her body as if she was waiting for something to hit.
“Here?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “What are you talking about? It doesn’t grow here.”
“Doc Westin had cancer.”
“Don’t change the subject,” I warned. “And he didn’t have cancer.” I shook my head. “He died from complications of the flu.”
“He didn’t tell anybody. Well, not many people.”
“That has nothing to do with what we’re talking about,” I said, getting exasperated. “I want to know how you know about the ricin. You need to tell me that and not digress.”
“I’m trying.”
“Okay,” I said. “So, go ahead.” I got up, grabbed a cup and stuck a pod of French Roast in my coffee maker. I leaned back on the counter to wait for it to finish.
“He wanted me to help him look into alternative methods of treatment,” Auntie said. “He came to me for help. So we tried to help him.” She turned around in her chair and looked at me. “Did you know ricin had been thought to have positive effects in killing cancer cells?”
“You didn’t let him take ricin, did you?” My eyes got as big as saucers. “Is that what really killed Doc Westin?”
“No,” she said and waved her hand. Then she cocked her head to one side. “At least I don’t think so.”
“Oh, Auntie! You don’t think so?”
“Well, I wasn’t with the man every minute. I can’t tell you what he did or didn’t do. Or take. But if I had to bet money on it...”
“Who is we?” I interrupted. I needed to know who her accomplices were and try to keep her going in the right direction. She’d digress if I didn’t stop her.
“Some of the ladies of the Voodoo Herbalist Society.”
“You.” I grabbed my coffee, put it up to my mouth blew on it and thought. “Mark. Leonard.” I recited the other two I knew.
“Delphine Griffith and Avoyelles Kalty.”
“I don’t know those two,” I said. I walked back over to the table.
“They still exist even if you weren’t aware of it.”
I shook my head. “Okay, so explain to me how the existence of these people, ricin, and Doc Westin all fit together.”
“We all grew it. Well not the doc.”
