Chapter 56
As usual, Simon was refusing all calls from unknown numbers. If they deemed themselves important, the callers left voicemails. Occasionally, he was interested enough to return one. A voice said: “Simon, Spade told me to call.” Female, slow, precise, with a slightly husky tone.
He immediately called back and said, “This is Simon Latch.”
“Hello Simon. I’m Zander. A pleasure.”
A woman of few words. “So you know Spade?” he asked.
“Oh yes. We were once close. A long story. He wants me to meet you and get some background.”
Since she was a complete stranger, and since she existed somewhere in Spade’s orbit, Simon told himself to be careful on the phone. Someone was probably listening. Then again, what the hell? What could the authorities possibly do to him that they had not already done?
“Where would you like to meet?” he asked.
“I assume you’re keeping a low profile these days.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“There’s a tea shop near the college on Kitt Street. Meet there in an hour?”
“See ya.”
Herbal teas were not the rage in rural Virginia.
The shop was tiny, only six small round tables, and there were no other customers at ten-thirty in the morning.
Zander was seated in a corner and gave him a half-hearted wave, as if she was being forced to indulge him.
But for the bright-teal spiked hair, collection of facial piercings, and rampant mascara, she might have been attractive.
Indeterminate age, probably between eighteen and thirty-five.
Simon’s first thought was: I’m trusting my fate to a flake like this?
He sat down without shaking hands, not that she offered one. He nodded and said, “Nice to meet you, Zander.”
“And nice to meet you as well.” He wasn’t wrong about the slow, sultry voice. It almost made up for her initial appearance.
“How do you know Spade?”
She smiled. Beautiful teeth. No metal stud through her tongue.
“My mother is one of his ex-wives and we lived in the same house for a short period of time, back when I was sixteen or so.” She made it sound like a long time ago. “Then they split and we moved out. But I’ve always liked Spade. He inspired me to find nontraditional work.”
Simon was not about to open that door.
She asked, “Would you like some tea?”
Her cup was almost empty. “Do they have coffee?” he asked, looking for a menu on a wall.
“Sure. Anything special?”
“No, just black.”
She said loudly, “Lois, a black coffee and another mint tea.”
From somewhere on the other side of a curtain behind the counter, Lois either grunted or passed gas. Either way, the order was acknowledged.
“So, you know something about the darker side of the web.”
She smiled again and said, “How much has Spade told you?”
“Nothing.”
“Sounds like him. I’ve read about your case, still reading actually. There’s quite a lot of stuff buzzing around. Do you keep up with it?”
“Oh no. I’ve sworn off social media and all that crap for the time being. Too depressing.”
“I live online. Twenty-four seven. It’s all I do. My boyfriend and I made some serious dough a few years back, shut down the entire department of transportation of a certain Midwestern state. They paid the ransom.”
“You’re still in business?”
“Sort of. Laying low. We got caught doing the next job. He took the fall and he’s serving time. Gets out in four months and I guess we have some decisions to make.”
Lois appeared through the curtain, put two cups on the table without saying a word, and vanished.
Simon ignored his and said, “I’m trying to find the killer. Maybe it’s someone who works for the local hospital. I need personnel records, everything in their files. Of course it’s confidential.”
“Everything’s confidential, Simon. Unless you know how to penetrate confidential files.”
“And you can find it?”
“Sure. This is easy. Hospitals only think they’re secure. Patients’ rights and all that crap. The problem with hospitals is that too many people have access. And now you have all this see-a-doc online, Zoom consultations, teletherapy. They make it easy for pros to wiggle in and have a look.”
“I’m interested in ten people who work there.”
“No problem, but I’m not sure what you expect to find. I mean, look, if someone, say an orderly, likes to poison people, there probably won’t be anything about it in his or her personnel file.”
“Got it.”
“I mean, like, it’s just common sense, you know.”
“Maybe so, but I have to start somewhere. I have a list of the ten names.”
“Hard copy, nothing online, nothing in your computer. Everything leaves a trail, Simon, and I can find it.”
Simon handed her a folded sheet of paper with the ten names. She took it, laid it on the table, then ignored it.
“How long will this take?” he asked.
“Are you in a hurry or something?”
“Damned right I’m in a hurry.”
“Same time tomorrow?”
“Sure. That easy, huh?”
She dismissed him with a look that said, Don’t doubt me.
He wondered if the metal in her eyebrows somehow kept her from blinking. Her gaze was not altogether unpleasant, but he was finding it unsettling. Whatever pill she was taking to remain so calm and unconcerned was the one he wanted.
From one criminal to another, he asked, “Do you worry about getting caught?”
“Not really. It happens, but rarely. We’re light-years ahead of the cops. And if you get caught, like Cooley, my boyfriend, then you go to a nice federal camp and keep working in prison.”
There was so much he didn’t know, and even more he didn’t want to know.
The following morning, they met at the same table and ordered the same drinks.
Zander handed him a sealed manila envelope, eight-by-eleven, and said, “I’m afraid there’s not much there.
Just the usual stuff—generic job applications, references, education, payroll information, a few disciplinary matters, all minor. Nothing that piqued my interest.”
She spoke like she was now in charge of the investigation, which was fine with Simon. She worked in a world foreign to his, and if she wanted to dig in and help, go girl. “But what did you expect?” she asked.
“I don’t know. There’s a level of desperation here, you understand?”
“Sure, but you won’t find anything in the personnel files.
If a bad actor works for the hospital and might have been involved in a poisoning, you won’t find anything useful in his file.
What’s he gonna admit to? Favorite hobbies—mixing poison compounds?
Collecting banned substances in the black market?
Education—bounced from college chemistry for blowing up a lab. ”
What a smart-ass! Simon tried to suppress a smile as he admired her sarcasm and nerve. She was thoroughly unintimidated. He said, “I get that. I’m just beginning, okay? Gotta start somewhere.”
“Well, you’re off to a bad start.”
“I’m digging in other places.” He drank some coffee and tried to hold her gaze. She flicked her lazy eyelashes and asked, “So where would you look?”
“Someone inside the hospital had the thallium. That person is a sicko who likes to poison, probably done it before.”
“And you think that’ll be in the file?” she asked.
“No, not at all. Are you always such a smart-ass?”
“It’s likely. I talked to Cooley last night.”
“Cooley has a cell phone?”
“He has three, all contraband of course. You’d better bone up on this prison stuff. The guards smuggle in phones and sell them to the inmates.”
“That’s nice to know.”
“Some of the guards make a ton of money smuggling goods.”
“I’ll remember that. What’s Cooley up to?”
“He’s intrigued. Took him two hours to find a dealer for thallium, guy in Singapore. If you want, I can order some. Five hundred bucks for fifty grams.”
Simon had to catch his breath as his thoughts scrambled.
She continued, “You can’t order it because you’ll leave a trail. We don’t.”
“Okay, but I think it’s too late for that. Let me think about it. It’s that easy?”
“Oh no. It’s hard as hell. Far too complicated for the average hacker and impossible for a guy like you. It’s the dark, dark web, Simon. Don’t go there.”
“Don’t worry.”
She finished her tea and asked, “Are you in a hurry?”
“Not at all.”
She looked at an opening that apparently went to the kitchen and said, “Lois, more coffee and another tea, please.” Lois did not reply.
Simon believed her but asked himself if he should be more cautious. It sounded so easy: an inmate in a federal prison with three cell phones and a computer, all contraband, goes into the dark web and locates a source of thallium in about two hours.
They sat silently for a while, waiting on the refills.
When Lois was gone again, Zander said, “Judging from what I’ve read, and again I’m suspicious of everything, it looks as though you bought the ginger cookies, your secretary took them to the hospital, and at that point everything was still okay. ”
“Assuming the secretary didn’t doctor the cookies.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“Remote.”
“Okay, so your theory is that someone on the inside did the deed.”
“Correct.”
“We have work to do.”
For some reason, Simon felt safer with a criminal like Zander on his side than with the FBI.