Part 12 (1/2)
”No. Stopped working the scene after I called Dispatch.”
”Okay, thanks. Is there a note?”
”Yes. It was in a sealed envelope, and she was holding it. Where she got it was another inconsistency. The mother, name of Annie, said she'd brought the stationery in for Betsy to use a couple weeks ago. Said that was around the time Betsy bought the nightgown. Annie hadn't seen it since. So Betsy must have hidden it.”
”Interesting.” Lei glanced over at Betsy's body. ”She's wearing makeup. Where's the makeup kit?”
Reyes pointed. The kit was on a bureau across the room. Lei caught Ken's eye, and the senior detective turned to Reyes. ”Thanks so much. Can you secure the scene outside, move the mother out? We're going to treat this scene as a homicide for the moment. We've already called the medical examiner.”
”Okay,” Reyes said, giving his golf s.h.i.+rt a tug downward over his potbelly. ”Please keep me posted on what you find.”
He left and Lei put on gloves, tucked her hands behind her back, and began a slow perambulation of the room in ”see mode”-a state where she let her vision roam over the scene without overly focusing, just allowing the information to register and ”blip” into consciousness-until something caught her attention.
It was a humble room, with a cheap pressboard bedroom set, a bulbous purple china lamp beside the bed, along with various toiletries where Betsy could reach them, and an empty water gla.s.s. Beside the water gla.s.s was a pill bottle. Ken photographed it before picking it up, shaking it.
”Ambien. Empty. I bet we find that they were kept elsewhere. I can't imagine Annie Brown leaving this where Betsy could reach it. She had to have some idea of her daughter's state of mind.”
”Maybe Betsy could still walk and was concealing that for some reason,” Lei said. ”Let's check the soles of her feet.”
”Good idea. I'm done shooting, so we can move things now.” Ken set the camera back in the case, and they lifted the rose-covered comforter up to reveal Betsy's body.
The first thing Lei noticed was a smell of urine and feces wafting up from under the comforter when it was removed, but nothing marred the perfection of the pristine, lace-trimmed cream satin nightgown. Through the fabric, around the woman's hips, Lei glimpsed a bulkiness. She poked the woman's waist. A crinkling sound answered.
”She's wearing adult diapers. Do you think she'd have worn those if she could walk?” Lei looked at Ken.
He shook his head. ”Seems unlikely.” He bent to inspect Betsy's feet. ”They look totally clean.”
Lei bent down, shone a high-powered flashlight on them. The toenails had been recently painted. In fact, everything about this woman was perfectly groomed. She'd ritualistically prepared for her suicide, had apparently wanted to look her best. Lei touched the sole of the foot, pressed gently. Rigor was setting in, so the flesh was hard, but the skin was thin and soft.
”She wasn't walking, Ken. This skin on her feet is like a baby's b.u.t.t. It hasn't touched the ground in months.” Lei straightened back up. ”She was planning for this.”
Dr. f.u.kus.h.i.+ma, in scrubs and with her medical kit, appeared in the door. ”Got another suicide, I see.”
”Looks like. But we're thinking it's another one of those fishy ones,” Lei said.
”I'd imagine, if you two are on the scene.”
”We interviewed this woman a few days ago in connection with a website we're investigating. She had ALS.”
”Interesting.” f.u.kus.h.i.+ma advanced, her sharp brown eyes moving quickly around the body. ”I think it's significant that from the waist down mobility was compromised, but she still had full functioning in her breathing and arms. ALS doesn't usually progress that way. Maybe I can tell something more in the post.”
The two agents straightened up, looking at each other. ”We were trying to establish if she was walking, because her makeup kit is across the room and she is dressed in this fancy nightie from that box over there.” Ken pointed.
”Aha. Where's the note?”
”Actually, don't know. Can you find Reyes, Agent Texeira, and locate the note?”
”Sure.” Lei had begun to find the smell of Betsy's diaper suffocating, and she was happy to walk through the tiny apartment to the front stoop. Reyes and his partner had strung crime scene tape around the area and helped Betsy's mother pack a bag. The woman sat weeping on the steps while the detectives interviewed some neighbors who had gathered.
Lei sat beside her on the wooden step. ”Mrs. Brown. I'm so sorry for your loss.”
More weeping. Mrs. Brown had long dark hair threaded with silver, and the streaming face she lifted to Lei was surprisingly young and unlined. ”She didn't need to do this. She wasn't a burden. It was my joy to take care of her!”
Lei reached out, rubbed the woman's shoulder. ”I need the suicide note. Do you know where it is?”
”The detective tried to take it. I wasn't ready to give it to him.” Mrs. Brown reached into the pocket of the flowered muumuu she wore, took out a crumpled card-stock envelope, handed it to Lei. Lei stifled the apprehension she felt about opening it. It had been torn open roughly.
”Where was this found?”
”She was holding it in her hands.” Mrs. Brown covered her face with her hands, but the sobbing had stopped, to Lei's relief. Crying still made her edgy.
”May I?” Lei held up the note.
”Yes.”
Lei eased the note out of the envelope with gloved hands. The card was a plain drugstore style, printed with Thank You in gold leaf.
”She asked me for a box of *thank you' notes. For when people brought her things, which they did sometimes.” Annie Brown stared ahead. ”She never wrote any though, until this one.”
”Did you have any idea she was suicidal?”
”Yes. I didn't think she was dealing with her diagnosis well. She would get angry and throw her food, then cry when she saw it just meant I had to clean it up. Lately, though, I thought she was improving. She was still on that site a lot, but her mood was much better. She was even cheerful. I thought the worst was behind us. I knew the illness would progress and she'd get more paralyzed, but I thought she was working through it. Accepting it.”
Lei was familiar with the burst of happiness and generosity some suicide victims exhibited once they'd made a commitment to kill themselves. She wondered if she'd have made the same choice Betsy had if she'd had ALS. She didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt Annie's flow. ”She bought that nightgown, said she wanted to pretend she was going to have a wedding night. I thought it was sweet, a good sign.” Annie shook her head. ”I was wrong.”
”What did you know about DyingFriends? Did anyone from their organization stop by, ever visit your daughter in person?”
”No. She got a lot of comfort from that site, from socializing on there as everyone else in her life dropped her as a friend. They didn't seem to know what to say or do around her.”
”Did you see or hear anything unusual last night?”
”No.” Annie turned red-rimmed eyes on Lei. ”Do you think someone came in? We keep the back door open, and someone could have. Because I wonder how she got her nightgown on herself. It was on the dresser across the room when I tucked her in last night. Also, I keep the Ambien in the bathroom. She only needs it once in a while, and I'd never leave it where she could reach it.”
Lei didn't respond to that, asking another question instead.
”Could she walk? Enough to get those things?”
”No. Her nerves were damaged. At the doctor's, they even poked her with a needle to her feet and she couldn't feel it, let alone walk.”
”Thank you, Mrs. Brown. I can't imagine how this must be for you. We've got your contact information. We'll call you if we need anything more.” Lei got up and went back into the apartment, meeting Ken coming out with a box full of evidence-bagged items.
”Done for the moment. Dr. f.u.kus.h.i.+ma has the scene. Let's go back to HQ and report in to Waxman.”