Part 9 (1/2)

”That was also chicken soup, Owen. And that's the kind of coincidence that cannot be ignored. A company put out of business-bankrupted-by a series of lawsuits directly connected to your former company.

”Owen, I need an absolute point-blank answer ...” She waited and then asked, ”Are you aware that the State Health lab report that blamed the Longview Farms poultry for the salmonella contamination may have been altered?”

”Come again?”

”Altered. Forged. Changed.”

The blank expression on Adler's face was all the convincing she needed. She felt the knot that had formed in the center of her chest loosen as a drip of perspiration skidded coolly down her ribs, sending a chill down her side. She told herself that he did not know anything about this. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

”I don't have proof,” she said. ”Not yet.” She stepped closer to him. ”But if someone at State Health altered that report in order to frame Longview Farms, then we have some serious motivation that may help to explain or even identify your blackmailer.” She added, ”Even if there was only the perception that Longview Farms was unjustly accused, it could be enough to set someone off.”

”That was four, maybe five years ago.”

”Part of the thrill of revenge is in the plotting, the planning. Strangely enough, the execution of the plan is often a letdown. It's one of the reasons the individual will stretch it out, given half a chance. Revenge-motivated crimes are unpredictable that way.”

A young couple entered, hand in hand. Daphne studied the transparencies of the varieties of fish that might be seen in the viewing window. The woman said to her, ”Pretty neat, isn't it?” Daphne mugged a smile and waited the full five minutes until the couple left. Alone again, she approached Adler.

She said, ”I need access to the New Leaf archives-the hard copies of what I saw on the computers at the Mansion. I need the original of that lab report.”

”What about getting it from State Health?”

”If someone at State Health altered the file, I'd rather know that before paying them a visit. We may get some arrests out of this, and if we do, we may get some answers.”

The big salmon grew active as smaller fish crowded the tank. After a few minutes they settled down, their mouths moving as if talking, as if mocking Daphne Matthews and Owen Adler, she thought.

”Can you get me in?” she asked.

”Hmm?” Adler was lost in thought.

”Without a lot of ha.s.sle.”

”Of course I can.”

”Without Howard Taplin knowing,” she clarified.

”But you don't think-”

”Don't ask,” she interrupted. ”It's part of my job to be suspicious. Not that I always like it.”

”I suppose it ruined Meriweather, something like that. Busted him, probably. What about the wife?” he asked. ”Where did she end up in all of this?”

Daphne hesitated a second, reluctant to answer, but then decided that honesty was a two-way street and that she owed him hers. ”At the top of my list,” she said.

The salmon turned viciously and bit one of its smaller cousins. The water clouded with an explosion of activity, and when it cleared again the big salmon was all alone and the bench at the viewing station was empty.

THIRTEEN.

At eight-thirty Daphne arrived at the Public Safety Building flush with excitement over her discovery of the State Health lab report. She grabbed Boldt firmly by the arm, and without another word dragged him into her office, kicking the door shut behind them. Standing close to him, she searched his eyes and said, ”Five years ago New Leaf Foods was accused by State Health of selling contaminated chicken soup. Lab tests placed the blame with a poultry company called Long-view Farms out in Sasquaw.” She pa.s.sed him the photocopies of one and then a second newspaper report she had gleaned from a computer service since her meeting with Adler. ”Longview Farms went bankrupt and folded as a result of lawsuits brought against it.” As he s.h.i.+fted to the second article, she narrated for him: ”Its owner, Mark Meriweather, went off Snoqualmie Pa.s.s in his Ford pickup. The fatality was ruled accidental-but what if it was suicide?”

Boldt looked up. ”Are we supposed to believe they're coincidences? Chicken soup? A suicide?”

”Especially when you add in this.” She handed him the laser-printed copy of the State Health lab report. She explained what it was, and informed him of her suspicions that it may have been altered.

”A copy won't prove that.”

”I know that. I'm working on it.” She searched his eyes again and said: ”You like this, don't you?”

”Very much.” Boldt's mind was racing. ”If they went bankrupt, then tracking down whoever once worked there may be tough.”

”I put Meriweather's widow on the top of my list. Loses her husband, their income. She sours and hires someone to threaten Owen.”

”Do we have her?”

”No. I ran her through DMV. No current operator's license, no current vehicle registration. I thought I'd ask LaMoia to try his contacts at State Tax-see if we can find a paper trail.”

A knock on her door was followed by the head of one of the civilian staff. ”Sergeant, we're holding a call from Gaynes for you. Says it's urgent.”

The call was placed from Nulridge Hospital. Hearing Boldt answer the call, detective Bobbie Gaynes said in a frightened voice, ”Sergeant, I've got two more.”

Nulridge Hospital was the kind of small community hospital that was unlikely to survive health care reform. It had not been remodeled in years, though it felt clean and well kept.

Gaynes explained that via a credit card payment, she had traced one of the Foodland receipts to a woman who had purchased Adler soup on the same day as the Lowrys. The woman's husband and child had recently been admitted with what she described as ”the stomach bug,” but the symptoms-severe diarrhea, headaches, and mental confusion-matched those of Slater Lowry.

Boldt spent the next forty minutes attempting to convince the supervising intern to test for cholera-this, while also avoiding any direct mention of a product tampering. The doctor, refusing to be told his job by a gumshoe, remained hostile and distant until Boldt connected him with Dr. Brian Mann, after which point his att.i.tude changed completely.

The senior Kowalski was responding well to fluids but his teenage daughter, already weakened from a two-year battle with bulimia, was listed as serious.

There was seemingly nothing to gain from visiting the two patients, but Boldt stopped in on the father. The man was lethargic and untalkative, but he was alive, which put him well ahead of Slater Lowry.

The daughter was unconscious, her medication being changed as Boldt arrived. The doctor caught up to Boldt in the hall, apologized for his earlier att.i.tude, and thanked him, adding, ”At least we know the enemy now,” the irony of which was not lost on the detective.

At eleven-thirty that night the anonymous State Health van pulled in front of the Kowalski home. Once again Boldt ushered the field agents inside the home and stood by as an exhausting search, so familiar to him from the Lowrys', began anew.

At 12:45 A.M., summoned back to the office, Boldt met up with Daphne, whose frantic behavior unnerved him as she explained, ”Longview Farms has long since defaulted on their property taxes, but from what I can tell, it hasn't changed hands.”

”It's vacant?”

”It's worth looking into, but it's well outside of our jurisdiction.”

”And the widow?”

”I'm working on it. LaMoia got the property information, but he doesn't have anything on Meriweather's wife or the Longview business. What I want is an employee roster.”

”That sounds like a better shot than driving a two-hour round-trip out to a vacant farm. You stay on the widow Meriweather, I'll ask a local uniform to check out the farm.”