{"id":482,"date":"2015-08-18T00:00:29","date_gmt":"2015-08-18T00:00:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/zatma.org\/new-wp\/?p=482"},"modified":"2015-08-25T00:52:32","modified_gmt":"2015-08-25T00:52:32","slug":"a-prescription-for-murder-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/?p=482","title":{"rendered":"A Prescription for Murder (#2)"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\"Ming<\/dt>\n
Ming Zhen Shakya<\/a><\/dd>\n<\/dl>\n
\u00a0To see more literature about Zen and the Art of Investigation:<\/h6>\n
http:\/\/www.zenanthonywolff.com<\/a><\/strong><\/i><\/h5>\n
<\/h6>\n
\n

A Prescription for Murder<\/h2>\n

by Anthony Wolff (Ming Zhen Shakya)<\/strong><\/p>\n

To see all available chapters of “A Prescription for Murder” click here<\/a><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

Part 3: Ambergris Caye and the Morgue<\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

Everyone had already gone into town by the time Anthony Celine knocked on Karen’s bedroom door. \u00a0“I’ll be down in a minute,” she replied when he insisted that she give him an opinion about the weather.<\/p>\n

After having only three hours of sleep, she dressed and came downstairs. \u00a0Anthony took her arm and guided her outside. \u00a0“The sun, as you can see – I’m not making this up! – is shining. \u00a0You need sun glasses.” He pulled a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket. \u00a0“These are a woman’s size – for when I go out in drag. \u00a0I’ll let you borrow them if you promise you won’t tell anyone where you got them.”<\/p>\n

She laughed at him and put the glasses on. \u00a0“They fit!” she said, surprised.<\/p>\n

“Actually I borrowed them from the chambermaid. \u00a0I wanted to get you out of the house and while I know that as a physician you’re used to unpleasant things, I thought I’d try to dangle something nice before your eyes.” He jokingly corrected himself. \u00a0“Dangle may not have been the best word.” \u00a0He pointed at a little marina half a mile down the beach. \u00a0“My brother keeps the\u00a0Beaglette<\/em>, a small Bermuda sloop in a slip there. \u00a0He collects barnacles for a hobby. \u00a0He doesn’t sail. \u00a0He just likes barnacles.” \u00a0He laughed and she smiled at his joke. \u00a0“Which is why,” he continued, “I got up at 6 a.m. to hire someone to get the Beaglette’s hull out of the water and do a little scraping. \u00a0She’s fit to sail across to any one of the outlying islands, most of which belong to Belize. \u00a0But if they don’t care, why should we?”<\/p>\n

“Ah,” she demurred. “I don’t know that I’m up for sailing.”<\/p>\n

“Sure you are. \u00a0Marc and Agnes have gone to see a lawyer today. \u00a0And so did Dan and I guess that means Ramona. \u00a0You don’t want to stay home with me after I got up so early to get that beautiful sloop ready. \u00a0The little galley is weighed down with croissants and coffee. So go get your bathing suit.”<\/p>\n

“That’s fine for me, but I have to go into town to buy some baby formula for Clara’s little son.”<\/p>\n

“No need for that. After I told them to clean the hull, I bought a case of baby formula and half a dozen bottles with nipples and diapers, too. \u00a0They’ve already been delivered and I refuse to do it again. \u00a0I even got some Poly-vi-sol with iron. And since the grocer said the baby was big enough to eat canned food, I got him a case… a variety of fruits and vegetables. Trust me when I tell you that sending flowers would have cost more.”<\/p>\n

“You’re one hell of a doctor’s assistant,” Karen said. “I hope you sail as well.”<\/p>\n

Anthony called the house and talked to Jos\u00e9. \u00a0“Because of the death in the household, you and the staff can finish your chores and take the rest of the day off. \u00a0Just be back by six o’clock to get dinner ready. The doctor and I are going sailing,” he said, “and we don’t expect to be back before the 8 p.m. dinner. \u00a0Do\u00f1a Agnes and Don Marco can fend for themselves if they return early.”<\/p>\n

“Why is it a ‘death in the house’?” Karen asked, as they returned to get her bathing suit.<\/p>\n

“The chambermaid Louisa is Clara’s sister. \u00a0Clara used to work at The Beagle, too. \u00a0A few years ago. Marc and Agnes treated them as family.”<\/p>\n

“The relationships around here are rather confusing. \u00a0Tell me, are you and Marc full brothers? \u00a0He’s blonde and brown eyed and you have the more traditional Roman look… dark eyes and hair. \u00a0Nice grey at the temples. You have that distinguished Roman nose, his is shaped differently… smaller.”<\/p>\n

“You are the first woman I’ve met who has seen Marc and hasn’t recognized bleached hair. \u00a0He gets it touched up every two weeks. \u00a0As to the Roman nose, a little rhinoplasty took care of that.<\/p>\n

He didn’t like the Italian look. \u00a0He prefers Nordic or Hellenic or something. \u00a0I’ll give him this: he’s stayed with the same look for the last quarter century.”<\/p>\n

She smiled. “To keep my date with the handsome Tony Celine I had my hair dyed ash blonde, a variation of my own natural color – the grey was covered, free of charge. \u00a0So I don’t know my way around hair salons. \u00a0In my line of work they take up too much time. \u00a0So, nope, I didn’t realize that his hair was bleached.”<\/p>\n

“He spends plenty to have it look natural. \u00a0If you look closely you’ll see that it’s slightly darker at the crown… as a natural blonde’s would be. The waves and curls are real. Oh, he recites poetry in French and the ladies go nuts.”<\/p>\n

Karen stuffed her bathing suit into a large make-up bag and finding many things to giggle about walked down the beach with Tony Celine. \u00a0“Make sure your phone and all that GPS stuff is on,” Tony advised. \u00a0“I may look like Jack Sparrow, but I’m really just a landlubber with delusions of grandeur. \u00a0Normally, I’d say, ‘Turn the damned things off. The telephone is an instrument of torture.’ But… my sailing skills being what they are…” \u00a0He helped her to board the sloop\u00a0Beaglette.<\/em><\/p>\n

Just after 1 p.m. as they reached Ambergris Caye and dropped anchor in an inlet, Karen changed into her bathing suit and Tony took several photos of her and a selfie of the two of them. \u00a0“Let’s not bother with the dinghy,” Tony said. \u00a0Karen agreed and they swam to shore.<\/p>\n

Clouds were already forming on the eastern horizon as they walked along the beach. When it started to rain they ran to an empty shack for cover. \u00a0A minute later an English couple bolted into the shack and they all laughed and talked about the weather. \u00a0The couple had two full decks of cards with them which they sorted into a pinochle deck and, after clearing a place on the dirt floor, they played a few rollicking men-against-women pinochle games.<\/p>\n

At 2:30 p..m., inside the shack, the couple invited them to ride down the coast with them in their cabin cruiser for some Belizean food. \u00a0They accepted the invitation, but when they stepped out onto the beach, they were startled to see how bad the weather had gotten while they were having fun playing cards.\u00a0The wind had begun to blow again and the sky from horizon to horizon was like a dark grey water-filled balloon just waiting to be pierced by lightning. \u00a0 The\u00a0Beaglette<\/em>\u00a0sat nervously in a sea that was growing more turbulent.\u00a0\u00a0“Jesus,” Tony said, seeing the ship so much farther from shore than they had anchored it. \u00a0“We’re not supposed to have much tidal change around the half-moon but a northerly wind must be pushing the water into the peninsula. \u00a0Maybe we ought to pass on the Belizean food.”<\/p>\n

Everyone said goodbye and exchanged addresses and phone numbers and then Karen and Tony entered the water and began to swim to the ship. \u00a0They climbed the rope ladder and boarded the vessel, shivering with the sudden chill. \u00a0Karen checked her phone while Tony went below deck to change his clothes. \u00a0“Marc called,” she shouted. \u00a0“Agnes is sick.” By the time she listened to all of her voice-mail messages, Tony was on deck, preparing to raise the anchor.<\/p>\n

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.<\/p>\n

“I’m calling Marc back now. \u00a0He left six messages. \u00a0He’s hard to understand when he gets excited.”<\/p>\n

Marc answered. “You’ve got to come back right away. \u00a0Agnes isn’t well at all.”<\/p>\n

“What are her symptoms?” .<\/p>\n

“She can’t keep anything down. \u00a0She’s even thrown up the medicine. \u00a0Just plain nausea, I guess. \u00a0We’ve tried everything. \u00a0She says she’s tired and won’t get out of bed.”<\/p>\n

“Is she feverish?”<\/p>\n

“Not that I can tell. \u00a0She seems cool to the touch. \u00a0But what do I know?”<\/p>\n

“I think you should take her into the hospital immediately. \u00a0Tony’s raising the sails now. \u00a0I can’t tell how long it will take us to get home from wherever it is we are on Ambergris Caye.” She called to Tony, “How long before we get home?”<\/p>\n

“I’m no expert. \u00a0I guess a few hours. Three maybe. \u00a0But I’m no good in a storm.”<\/p>\n

“Tony guesses three hours,” she told Marc. \u00a0“When did Agnes start to get sick?”<\/p>\n

“She had eaten\u00a0huevos rancheros\u00a0for breakfast. \u00a0And some special jalape\u00f1o bread. We ate before 8 a.m. and left to keep an appointment with the lawyer. \u00a0But right away, the breakfast didn’t sit well with her. \u00a0She chewed a few antacid tablets in the car, but in the lawyer’s office she started to get some serious heartburn, so we stopped at the drugstore on the way back\u2013-I don’t understand this! \u00a0We all ate the identical breakfast. \u00a0Nobody else got sick.”<\/p>\n

“All right,” she said, “take her to the hospital. Take any medication you gave her with you and give the doctor as complete a history as you can. If he has questions, call me from the hospital.”<\/p>\n

Karen changed her clothes and gave them enough time to get to the hospital before she called again. \u00a0Marc said that his wife had finally fallen asleep and he did not want to disturb her.<\/p>\n

“You didn’t take her to the hospital?” Karen asked, alarmed. \u00a0“Take her pulse!”<\/p>\n

“Why should I disturb her? \u00a0I’m not medically trained.”<\/p>\n

“Any human being can take a person’s pulse. You have a watch with a second hand sweep. \u00a0Lightly touch her wrist… just above the heel of her hand and when you feel the beat start counting for fifteen seconds and then multiply that by four. \u00a0Do it and I’ll call back in five minutes.”<\/p>\n

Five minutes later when she tried to reach him, her call went to voice mail. It was 3:45 p.m. She looked at Tony. \u00a0“This makes no sense. She was sick all morning but his first voicemail didn’t come in until 1:46.”<\/p>\n

“He no doubt didn’t want to mess up our date. \u00a0He knew how I felt about you.” \u00a0He held the wheel with one hand and pulled Karen to him with the other. \u00a0He kissed the top of her head. \u00a0“Don’t worry. \u00a0Everything will be fine. Marc tends to be dramatic.”<\/p>\n

The winds were mostly favorable and they returned to the marina just after 6 p.m.. They tied down the ship and ran to the house. Karen, taking the stairs two at a time, rushed to Agnes’s bedroom. \u00a0The chambermaid came into the foyer and shouted as she followed Karen upstairs, “He already took her to the hospital!” \u00a0Karen, startled by the similarity that the maid’s voice had to Clara’s, looked back as she opened the door to the master bedroom, a room she had not seen before.<\/p>\n

“Did Don Marco take her pulse?” she asked, pulling up the mosquito netting. \u00a0She examined the pillows and sheets.<\/p>\n

“He tried but couldn’t find it, he said. \u00a0So he put her in the Lincoln and Jos\u00e9 drove them to the hospital. I didn’t notice the time.”<\/p>\n

Tony stood at the top of the staircase. \u00a0“Come on. \u00a0I’ve got keys to Marc’s Buick. \u00a0We can go to the hospital.”<\/p>\n

“Try to get them on the phone. \u00a0She needs a cardiologist. \u00a0She may also need atropine in case there’s nobody qualified on duty.” \u00a0She circled the bed to look at a bottle of pills that were on Agnes’s side of the bed. \u00a0It was an old prescription of Marc’s for codeine that a doctor in Phoenix had ordered. \u00a0As Karen returned it to the bedside table, the maid saw the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from under the disturbed bed cover. \u00a0She\u00a0\u00a0picked it up and looked at it quizzically. \u00a0She read “Cerb-e or a,” and handed the paper to Karen.<\/p>\n

“Do you understand the word?” Karen asked.<\/p>\n

“No,” the maid shook her head and quickly turned away.<\/p>\n

“We’ll figure it out later,” Karen said, stuffing the paper in her pocket as she ran after Tony who was barking orders in Spanish to someone on the phone.<\/p>\n

At the hospital reception desk Tony asked for Agnes Celine and was directed to the morgue. \u00a0Karen gasped and slumped against Tony. “This is insane,” she said.<\/p>\n

Tony supported her as he received directions to the morgue that was located at the rear of the hospital’s ground floor. \u00a0There was no body on the laboratory table. Marc was not there; but the medical examiner, an elderly doctor named Cardenas, was sitting at a desk filling out papers.<\/p>\n

“We’re here about Agnes Celine. Her doctor is here.”<\/p>\n

“I’m Se\u00f1ora Celine’s cardiologist.”<\/p>\n

The doctor looked up at her and assumed a dismissive attitude. “Have you talked to the police?”<\/p>\n

“No.”<\/p>\n

“Then why are you here?”<\/p>\n

“I can give you some patient history. \u00a0I have no files with me but I can easily have them faxed to you, if you require them. Se\u00f1ora Celine had an old history of arrhythmia… specifically, bradycardia. It was under control.”<\/p>\n

Dr. Cardenas sneered. \u00a0“Then why would you prescribe flecainide acetate\u00a0for a patient with bradycardia? And at a lethal dosage? There’s no mistake. \u00a0She had your prescription filled at a pharmacy in Chetumal this morning.” \u00a0He continued to mumble in Spanish.<\/p>\n

Karen looked at Tony. “What is he talking about?”<\/p>\n

“The prescription of yours that was filled at the pharmacy here.”<\/p>\n

“What? The antibiotics for Paolo?”<\/p>\n

“No… the one you wrote for Agnes.” Anthony Celine put his hand up, indicating that Karen should not say another word. \u00a0He then spoke almost apologetically to the Medical Examiner\u00a0as Karen listened with open-mouthed incredulity. Finally he turned to Karen. “He says you prescribed a medicine for slowing the heart rate of a heart patient who has a history of bradycardia, that is to say, a dangerously slow heart rate condition. \u00a0This, in his opinion, constitutes gross negligence or some kind of ‘medical misadventure.'”<\/p>\n

“What is he talking about?” Still confused, Karen again insisted, “I never prescribed such a drug for Agnes! I ordered antibiotics and a syringe for an injured man.”<\/p>\n

Anthony tried to explain. “Not him.<\/em>.. not the Indian man. He says you wrote a prescription in Phoenix which Agnes had filled here in Chetumal on her way back from the lawyer’s office this morning. \u00a0The pharmacist gave the prescription paper to the detective – the cop you met last night. Marc gave the detective the actual bottle of pills, too. She clearly took the pills. \u00a0They sent an attendant back to The Beagle to pick up the basin she vomited in. \u00a0A few of the pills evidently were still intact in the vomit.”<\/p>\n

“This is insane!” Karen groaned. \u00a0“I haven’t written Agnes a prescription in months.”<\/em><\/p>\n

Anthony spoke to the doctor again in Spanish. \u00a0This time, Karen tried to listen closely to what he said. She didn’t get the question but Anthony answered,\u00a0“The doctor and I went sailing.”<\/p>\n

The doctor asked at what time they had left the hacienda. Anthony looked at Karen. \u00a0“When did we leave the house this morning?”<\/p>\n

“Around 9:30.”<\/p>\n

Anthony repeated this in Spanish. \u00a0Then he added, “I don’t know. \u00a0That’s when I saw her. My opinion is that since she was up so late last night, she slept late and the others were all gone before she got up. \u00a0I had gone to the pharmacy early to buy some baby formula. I was there when it opened at 8 a.m. and was home before 9.”<\/p>\n

“What did you have for breakfast?”<\/p>\n

“Typica<\/em>,” Anthony said. \u00a0“Steak, eggs, salsa, tortillas, coffee. \u00a0I ate in the hacienda’s kitchen.”<\/p>\n

While they spoke, Detective Inspector Juan Ruiz-Montoya entered the room. \u00a0The prescription bottle was inside a police-taped evidence envelope. \u00a0“We meet again,” he nodded to Karen. \u00a0“I heard the last part of your conversation.”<\/p>\n

“Agnes never talked to me about eating chile,” Anthony said in Spanish to the doctor. “My brother said that she had spoken to Karen about eating spicy food before she came down here. \u00a0She had longed to eat huevos rancheros and some spicy entrees but she was extremely afraid of heartburn. \u00a0She told him she had consulted Karen before they left Phoenix. \u00a0That’s all I know.”<\/p>\n

Karen understood enough Spanish to object. “She never spoke to me about food! \u00a0Not in Phoenix. Not in Mexico. \u00a0And heartburn comes from an abundance of stomach acid. \u00a0Chile would have been good for it. She never complained of heartburn. \u00a0If she had a gastric problem she’d have seen another specialist.”<\/p>\n

The detective took Karen by the arm and led her into the hall. \u00a0He spoke softly to her. “This is what they claim: the prescription which bore your signature and was written on your prescription pad was dated on September 30th and filled this morning at 9:30 a.m. here in Chetumal. \u00a0She had eaten chile salsa for breakfast and had some stomach distress which she called heartburn. \u00a0In the morning you were asleep and she didn’t want to awaken you because you had been up so late… as I personally can attest to. \u00a0About an hour after eating she felt worse – they were in the lawyer’s office\u00a0at the time – and so they stopped at the pharmacy to get your prescription filled. \u00a0Dan and Ramona Duran substantiated this. \u00a0The druggist asked them if they knew you as a physician and Marc spoke glowingly about your ability and said that you were Agnes’ physician for many years.” \u00a0He let Karen look at the prescription bottle through the clear plastic evidence bag.<\/p>\n

“I never wrote this prescription! \u00a0It is so contra-indicated! \u00a0Never! \u00a0Never would I have written it.”<\/p>\n

“I have to ask you not to leave town,” the detective said. \u00a0“But I’ll drive out to the hacienda this afternoon. \u00a0We can talk then.”<\/p>\n

Near collapse, Karen whined, “What is happening?” She had during the course of her training made many mistakes… mostly omissions… that caused embarrassment for her and discomfort or inconvenience for the patient. \u00a0 But nothing like this. \u00a0She had heard horror stories about Mexican corruption, the bribery that was necessary to get an American out of their legal system. \u00a0“Oh, God,” she said, “this is a nightmare. \u00a0I need to wake up.”<\/p>\n

“We’ll talk later,” Ruiz-Montoya said, trying to calm her. \u00a0He guided her back into the laboratory.<\/p>\n

“Where is my brother?” Tony asked him.<\/p>\n

“He’s upstairs with the hospital administrator and then he’ll probably go to police headquarters. \u00a0If you want to be with him, don’t worry about Dr. Breiton. \u00a0I’ll see that she gets home.”<\/p>\n

“I brought her and I can take her home.”<\/p>\n

“I’d like to see my patient,” Karen said, taking a step toward Tony.<\/p>\n

Ruiz shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. They won’t let you touch the body; and if Marc Celine comes in and in his grief and confusion starts to shout insults at you, you will reap no benefit. I saw her. \u00a0There’s not a mark on her… nothing to see.”<\/p>\n

“I still want to see her.”<\/p>\n

“Then I’ll take you back inside. After that I have a few official questions to ask. I can conduct at least part of my interview in the car, driving back to The Beagle.” \u00a0He turned to Tony. “Your chivalry aside, this is a police matter. I can interview you there or at police headquarters, whatever you wish.”<\/p>\n

“Karen has my number. When you’re ready for me just call.” He pulled Karen to him and whispered in her ear, “Do you want me to get a lawyer for you? \u00a0I don’t like where any of this is going.”<\/p>\n

“No, I’ll be fine, although I may change my mind about that lawyer.”<\/p>\n

Tony tightened his grip around her waist and kissed her on the cheek.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Part 4: \u00a0The Interrogation<\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

Agnes Celine lay on a metal slab that the attendant pulled from a refrigerated compartment.\u00a0The medical examiner pulled back the sheet that covered her naked body and indicated that Karen was not to touch the body. \u00a0Traces of eye makeup that Agnes had put on in the morning were still present.<\/p>\n

“She looks asleep,” Ruiz-Montoya said.<\/p>\n

Karen tugged at his arm. \u00a0“There’s nothing we can do here. \u00a0I assume she’ll be given a full autopsy?”<\/p>\n

The medical examiner said, “Ruiz, por favor.” \u00a0He detained the detective and dismissed Karen, pointing to the door and telling her to wait outside in the corridor. \u00a0Angry and uncomprehending, she left the lab, pushing the lab’s swinging doors so hard that as she walked down the hall, they continued to sweep back and forth.<\/p>\n

Before the doors had stopped swinging, Ruiz came into the hall. \u00a0“Doctor!” he called.<\/p>\n

Karen raised her hands and gestured wildly. \u00a0“What is going on?”<\/em><\/p>\n

“Calm. \u00a0Stay calm. \u00a0There will not be an autopsy. After they left the lawyer’s office, Agnes got the medicine and by the time they arrived home, she had started to experience nausea as well as the heartburn that Marc had said she had earlier. They didn’t want to disturb your day out with Tony. \u00a0Agnes lay on her bed and asked the maid Louisa to bring a basin so that if she needed to vomit she wouldn’t have to get up. \u00a0The maid put the basin beside her bed on the floor and left the room. \u00a0At some later time Agnes did vomit into the basin and continued to retch. \u00a0Louisa didn’t want to remove the basin to empty and clean it for fear that while she was doing that, Agnes might throw up again. \u00a0So she just left it there.” \u00a0He shrugged and grinnned. “Technically, she had been given the day off.<\/p>\n

“Later, as Marc began to lift Agnes to take her to the hospital, his foot pushed the basin under her bed. \u00a0The medical examiner sent an attendant to pick it up, and there were the tablets you supposedly prescribed in the vomit. \u00a0Apparently she had taken at least four tablets. \u00a0The prescription called for one tablet, twice a day. \u00a0Agnes, therefore, had a certain degree of culpability. \u00a0Anyway, the druggist identified the medication. \u00a0Marc said that her pulse had been nearly undetectable. He had to hold a mirror up to her nose to determine that she was still breathing. \u00a0That’s when he picked her up and took her to the hospital. She was moribund. They did everything they could. But the officially listed time of death was 4:32 p.m.”<\/p>\n

“He should have acted much earlier. I told him to take her to the hospital\u00a0while we were leaving Ambergris Caye. He didn’t want to disturb her because he said she was finally sleeping. \u00a0I insisted. \u00a0Marc had said that she threw up earlier, but he assumed that this was just simple nausea. When I called again my call went to voice-mail.”<\/p>\n

“Did he ever mention the basin?”<\/p>\n

“No. \u00a0I knew nothing about a basin until two minutes ago.”<\/p>\n

“At this point, Marc doesn’t want an autopsy and there really is no reason to conduct one. \u00a0No one suspects foul play. Marc speaks well of the care you’ve given Agnes and you are her physician of record… the recent prescription proves that. \u00a0The stomach contents contained undigested tablets of flecainide.”<\/p>\n

“But I didn’t prescribe flecainide!” \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

“Doctor, I’ve heard you deny that. \u00a0Let’s say I believe you. Do yourself a favor and don’t continue to deny it.” \u00a0He led her outside and opened the pickup-up’s door. \u00a0“Buckle up.”<\/p>\n

He began to drive out of the hospital parking lot. “Now, I’m going to put my digital recorder on the dashboard. \u00a0When I turn it on, I’ll ask you questions and you won’t go into a rant about that prescription. \u00a0You’ll just be sad… concerned… humble.\u00a0Do you understand? \u00a0I’m not going to question you about the prescription.”<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Karen doubted that the detective’s solicitousness was intended to accrue to her benefit. \u00a0“Maybe we should wait until Tony Celine is here.”<\/p>\n

“This is a police interview not a public relation’s social. The interview will be conducted in private. \u00a0Now do as I tell you.”<\/p>\n

“At least I ought to have a lawyer representing me when I’m officially interviewed – in a truck or in an office.”<\/p>\n

“I’m not asking you to trust me. \u00a0I’m telling you to trust me. \u00a0I want your statement and I want it now and in just the way I described… sad… concerned… humble. \u00a0Don’t give me a hard time. \u00a0Decisions are being made now. \u00a0Help to make them in your favor!” \u00a0He slowed the car, removed a digital recorder from his jacket pocket, turned it on and announced the name of the \u00a0deceased, the date, time, place, his name and the name of the person he was questioning.<\/p>\n

By answering his questions without benefit of counsel Karen felt that she would one day be the old, wrinkled victim of one of those “wrong conviction” cases that were often reviewed on television shows. \u00a0Twenty years later someone would discover that she had been set up all because she was naive enough to speak to the police and simply give a truthful but easily twisted account of her part in the event being investigated. \u00a0She clamped her teeth together and glared at him, wagging her head negatively.<\/p>\n

Ruiz-Montoya began, asking the question first in Spanish and repeating it in English. \u00a0“Your place and date of birth, Doctor.”<\/p>\n

She refused to answer. \u00a0He pulled over onto the road’s shoulder and reached across to pinch her nose shut. “It’s all right, Doctor,” he said gently. “The microphone is very sensitive. \u00a0You can answer in your normal voice.” He released her nose.<\/p>\n

Wide-eyed and furious, Karen tried to be sad, concerned, and humble. \u00a0“I was born in Phoenix, Arizona on October 28, 1967.”<\/p>\n

He repeated her answer in Spanish.\u00a0“I require a few more personal details. Are you married?”<\/p>\n

“I’m a widow. \u00a0My husband was Henri Breiton. \u00a0We were married in l987. \u00a0He was, by nationality, French. \u00a0We married when I was a freshman in medical school. \u00a0We have one child, a daughter, Amalie who lives in France. \u00a0She’s married.”<\/p>\n

“What is your relationship with Anthony Celine?”<\/p>\n

“I have none. \u00a0He’s from Phoenix. \u00a0Years ago I met him and his late wife once at a hospital fund-raising party. \u00a0Agnes and Marc also attended, but we were not friends.”<\/p>\n

“You didn’t get along?”<\/p>\n

“No! I’m Agnes’ physician. \u00a0I make it a rule not to socialize with my patients. \u00a0And next you’ll ask, ‘Why then are you here?’ \u00a0Anthony suggested that Agnes invite me to attend a seminar or to make an even number of men to women at the dinner table.\u00a0I don’t know why<\/em>. It was strictly a casual arrangement. \u00a0The seminar was about coffee. That’s all I know.”<\/p>\n

“Would you give me your academic background, including medical school and residency and any professional organizations of which you are a member?”<\/p>\n

Again, she answered, trying to sound rational. \u00a0He asked, “Have you ever been sued for malpractice or been subjected to censure of any kind… reprimand… fine… probationary term… in association with the exercise of your profession?”<\/p>\n

“No! Never!” She had forgotten to be humble.<\/p>\n

“That will all be checked. \u00a0What did you talk about the last time you spoke to Agnes?”<\/p>\n

“We were all at dinner. \u00a0We talked about her father’s exploits, mostly. \u00a0And a dog they used to have they called ‘Culebra.’ \u00a0A great dane.” \u00a0Karen suddenly remembered the note that the maid had found. \u00a0“Wait!” she said. \u00a0“Karen may have left a note. \u00a0It was under a blanket on her bed. \u00a0The maid saw it and gave it to me.” \u00a0She pulled the note from her pocket.<\/p>\n

The detective began to curse in Spanish and shut off the recorder. \u00a0“Now we have to do this again!” he said, rewinding and erasing their brief interview. \u00a0“Why didn’t you mention this sooner? What does it say?”<\/p>\n

“Excuse me! \u00a0I’m being charged with writing a prescription that killed a woman… a prescription that I know nothing about! \u00a0I had a few things on my mind!” \u00a0She took a deep breath and looked at the paper. \u00a0“I don’t know… Cerba or Cerbe. \u00a0Capital C, lower case e, lower case r, lower case b, and then lower case either a or e. \u00a0That’s all. The maid didn’t know what it meant.” She showed Ruiz the note. He looked at it and put it in an evidence envelope.<\/p>\n

“Tell me more about the dog.”<\/p>\n

“It was a dane and very friendly. \u00a0It wagged its tail so hard that it would cut its tail on the door jambs. \u00a0So every room’s doorway had these bloody stripes. \u00a0The English frown on cropping a dog’s ears and tail, but while they didn’t crop the ears, the tail had to go. So they had it surgically removed. \u00a0What? \u00a0Were you thinking of Cerberus?”<\/p>\n

“Yes.. as a matter of fact. A three headed dog that guards the gods of the underworld.”<\/p>\n

“That’s the sort of thing her father would have known about. \u00a0He had all these exotic plants \u00a0and native artworks.”<\/p>\n

“Did you see any unusual oil paintings?”<\/p>\n

“Unusual? No. \u00a0Awful, Yes. Marc said they were his. \u00a0In the dining room there were half a dozen oil paintings that illustrated the bland meals I prescribed for Agnes. Frankly, I thought he was mocking them. But maybe that’s just a coincidence. \u00a0I didn’t see anything that had to do with a three headed dog.” \u00a0She hesitated a moment. \u00a0“I don’t mean to be nosy, but how is it that you seem to be the only detective on the force. \u00a0This town must have a large police force… being a border town and all. \u00a0Your exclusive involvement in this case seems a bit strange.”<\/p>\n

“There’s a problem. We can’t take vacations in the summer when all the tourists are here and the crime rate, and missing persons, and arguments over room rates, and stolen items, and the ‘I just got stung by a \u00a0jellyfish will I die?’ folks drive us crazy. \u00a0It’s 24\/7. \u00a0But after your Labor Day, things get quiet. \u00a0The kids go back to school and we have several four day holiday weekends that the younger officers who have families take as holidays. \u00a0The old timers have to wait until we can take a week or two off.”<\/p>\n

“Are you on duty now?”<\/p>\n

“Oh, yes. And you’ve got a serious problem. \u00a0But let’s get back to Cerba or Cerbe.. \u00a0 Could it mean Cerbatana?”<\/p>\n

“Isn’t that a blowgun? Paolo had one in his house. It was used to prop up the mosquito netting around his bed.”<\/p>\n

“All the Indian men have them. But they never use them as props for anything. \u00a0Straightness is indispensable. \u00a0The wood is hard but often brittle. \u00a0He probably didn’t use it for shooting game. Nevertheless…” \u00a0He took out his phone. “Excuse me one moment.” \u00a0 Ruiz-Montoya called the morgue. He asked the Medical Examiner to double-check Agnes’ body for any kind of puncture wound… everything from a snake bite to a poisoned dart or needle injection site.<\/p>\n

Before they reached the hacienda, the doctor called back to say that there were absolutely no wounds on Agnes Celine’s body. \u00a0He began an anti-American diatribe. “Agnes Celine died from heart failure. She was known in the medical community here. \u00a0She always had an abnormally sluggish heart. The condition was certainly worsened by the ingestion of the flecainide tablets the American genius-doctor prescribed for her. We examined her stomach contents in the basin. There was no question about her having taken the pills. \u00a0Since there is no criminal intent but just plain American stupidity, there will be no autopsy. Se\u00f1or Celine doesn’t want his wife subjected to the procedure. Incidentally, he is being very Christian, very civilized, about this mistake. He says that before his wife ever saw Dr. Breiton she had been advised by several physicians that she would not live another year without a pacemaker. \u00a0Then he took her to Dr. Breiton who managed his wife’s care so perfectly that he got fifteen more years of life and love from her. \u00a0He speaks highly of Breiton and insists this is merely an accident… negligence perhaps, but without any intent to harm, there’s no crime.”<\/p>\n

Ruiz thanked him and disconnected the call. \u00a0“Could you hear what he said?”<\/p>\n

“Yes, I picked up most of it.”<\/p>\n

He looked at her. \u00a0“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”<\/p>\n

“Yes,” she sighed. “Don’t make things worse by blaming someone else for writing the prescription since that would indicate intent and therefore constitute a crime. \u00a0I get it.”<\/p>\n

Ruiz shook his head. \u00a0“Marc the Good Christian. That’ll be the day. He’s a womanizer, a gambler, a swindler, and he’s known to use heroin. \u00a0Do you remember the story from the Bible about the rich man who wants to follow Jesus?”<\/p>\n

“Yes. \u00a0I remember. \u00a0He’ll do anything that Jesus asks, except give his money to the poor.”<\/p>\n

“That’s Marc. Money is the motive. This was not an accident.”<\/p>\n

“Is this the normal police protocol used whenever a detective has a vulnerable female suspect at his mercy? \u00a0Making rash assumptions that she just might be innocent?”<\/p>\n

“None of us is completely innocent.” \u00a0He could have said this in a playful, flirtatious way. \u00a0But he said it seriously and his tone put her on edge. \u00a0It seemed cynical, the concluding apologetic utterance of a criminal lawyer’s summation.<\/p>\n

Karen protested. “I’m the person who’s asked when someone dies. \u00a0You’re the person who’s asked when someone’s killed. I can tell you in great detail why Agnes Celine died. \u00a0It took me years of study and practice to be able to do that. \u00a0Along with all our other assumptions, I’ll assume you know what you’re doing. \u00a0He couldn’t have done this alone. So who at the hacienda is his ally?”<\/p>\n

Ruiz sighed as he picked up the recorder to reset it. \u00a0“Even if the prescription is deemed an act of negligence, one that is not criminal in nature, you’ll be liable for the error in civil court back in the U.S. \u00a0Torts… you know that story. They also kept her vomit. It’s frozen, but in evidence.<\/p>\n

“At this stage of the investigation I have no suspects; and you know that I cannot discuss the case with you, so don’t ask. \u00a0Just go through the interview with me again and this time don’t sound like you’re giving a sermon!”<\/p>\n

Before he clicked on the recorder, he said, “Don’t volunteer anything. \u00a0Just answer my questions… in a humble tone of voice.”<\/p>\n

They were only a few miles from the hacienda when he finished the brief interview. \u00a0He shut off the recorder. \u00a0Softly, but with definite urgency, he said, “You are not to leave Quintana Roo until you receive official permission. \u00a0But when you\u00a0are\u00a0<\/em>given permission to go, run – don’t walk – run across the border to Belize and fly home from there. \u00a0Get the hell out of Mexico. \u00a0We can continue our conversation in Phoenix. \u00a0Incidentally, my father had acid-reflux or heartburn or whatever you call it. \u00a0The local curandero told him to take cayenne peppers, put a\u00a0dedada.<\/em>.. a pinch… inside a little ball of tortilla dough… like a pill. \u00a0He took them several times a day. \u00a0I guess Marc didn’t know that. My father lived to be 84. He drowned while fishing at sea. So I get it. \u00a0Chile is alkaline. \u00a0It will neutralize acid. I want you to tell me anything else that happened that might have seemed odd to you… from the beginning.”<\/p>\n

“Ok… The first thing was the invitation. \u00a0Tony Celine is apparently well known in Phoenix. His wife died last year – I hadn’t known that. He casually suggested that Agnes invite me. \u00a0It all seemed so pat to me.”<\/p>\n

“Pat?”<\/p>\n

“You know… so conveniently arranged. Everybody knows that\u00a0I never see my patients socially… it’s an opportunity for mischief, if you know what I mean. \u00a0So that Agnes Celine should even invite me down here to sort of be handsome Tony’s date was odd. Why me, of all people?”<\/p>\n

“Then at dinner there was the business about Clara having come earlier and being told that the doctor was away from the hacienda but would be returning. Clara spoke perfect English. \u00a0I could even understand her Spanish. \u00a0She clearly said, ‘now that the doctor has returned’ which can only mean that she had come looking for me or another physician earlier. \u00a0But nobody mentioned it. And Marc shut-down the topic at that point.<\/p>\n

“Then there was Marc’s glacially slow dressing. \u00a0You could have dressed a room full of kids to go out to play in the snow before he changed from dinner clothes to his safari outfit. \u00a0Especially when he knew the woman had come earlier and that her husband was seriously injured, you’d think he’d have hurried and been down in five minutes. \u00a0It took more than half an hour.<\/p>\n

“And another thing… there was no reason that Miguel or Jos\u00e9 couldn’t have driven the Jeep. Even I can drive a stick shift. \u00a0I offered to drive Clara myself. \u00a0But he insisted on going.”<\/p>\n

“I’m beginning to understand why you arrived so late at the farmacia.”<\/p>\n

“That was nothing compared to the tire. \u00a0He had a tire that had an inner tube that had evidently been punctured. \u00a0When it had gotten flat, I don’t know, but I did notice the Jeep earlier in the evening and it had no flat. \u00a0The right front tire would have been the one that I saw most clearly when I saw the Jeep. \u00a0It was not flat. But it was a British Jeep and they do things opposite…like the driver sits on the right, and the overhead lights were dimmed by flying insects… so I wasn’t absolutely sure. \u00a0I mean…. this was life and death and he’s looking for a hole in an inner tube… having Miguel fill a tub with water so that he could submerge the tube to find the leak. \u00a0There were plenty of tires and inner tubes around. Some were new inner tubes – and they couldn’t have been used for their new cars… new tires are tubeless.”<\/p>\n

“Didn’t he have a spare?”<\/p>\n

“That’s what I asked! \u00a0He answered that if he had had a spare he would have used it.”<\/p>\n

“And when you got to the farmacia, how did he react?”<\/p>\n

“He didn’t pound on the door. \u00a0He just stood there. My purpose was to wake the owner up. Thank God the owner called the police. And another thing. \u00a0Clara insisted on coming with us. \u00a0She was so anxious about her husband and yet she left the old woman alone with him to apply the hot wet compresses I had ordered to be placed on the wound. \u00a0And how come Clara lives like a native but speaks English like a lady at the Court of Saint James?”<\/p>\n

“That old woman would have gotten help from a neighbor if she needed it. Clara and her sister Louisa – the chambermaid at the hacienda – were raised in an English lady’s house. \u00a0Chetumal is closer to English-speaking Belize than to any other Spanish city. \u00a0Cancun didn’t exist in those days. Anyway, their mother was the cook. \u00a0The English lady spoke Castilian Spanish. I used to get a kick out of speaking with someone who said ‘Thinco’ for five. \u00a0I myself was born in Madrid and came to Mexico when I was kid and had to learn to speak Spanish.” \u00a0He grinned at the little joke. \u00a0“So the two girls were educated with English text books. \u00a0The lady had two kids and the tutor she hired taught Clara and Luisa at the same time. \u00a0As teenagers, both went to work at the hacienda, at first just as chambermaids and, when needed, as tour guides for the garden. \u00a0Marc and Tony came down frequently on business… those investment opportunities… and pleasure, too, but Agnes was so rarely here that I guess the girls acquired a kind of proprietary attitude towards The Beagle. \u00a0They spoke English and would boss the other servants around.” \u00a0He looked at her slyly. \u00a0“You know how bossy English speaking females are.”<\/p>\n

Karen relaxed enough to smile. \u00a0“Ok. \u00a0Ok. That’s enough from you.”<\/p>\n

“The girls still lived with the English lady but when she died, I think the girls assumed they’d inherit some of her property. \u00a0Maybe she had told them they would leave them something – many landowners use the promise of some kind of inheritance to keep their servants in line. \u00a0Who knows? \u00a0When the lady’s relatives from London moved in, the girls were summarily evicted. \u00a0They continued to work at The Beagle, only now they lived there as well. \u00a0But two live-in chambermaids were one too many; and Clara was let go. \u00a0She was pregnant and finally married an indigenous… that’s a term for native Indian… ‘indito’ is the slang… fellow who was suspected of illegally dealing in antiquities.”<\/p>\n

“Was there ever any relationship between Clara and Marc?”<\/p>\n

“Ahhh. You get right to the point. \u00a0Well, we’re entering an area of gossip here. \u00a0There isn’t a wealthy home in the universe in which there aren’t suspected relationships between owners and servants.”<\/p>\n

“You didn’t answer the question.”<\/p>\n

“I’m the investigator. \u00a0I’m not supposed to answer your questions. \u00a0You’re supposed to answer mine!”<\/p>\n

“You have just confirmed that there was a sexual relationship.”<\/p>\n

“Marc Celine is a well-known ladies’ man. He gives the impression that he’s the owner of the place. He’s a good-looking man and women seem to want to be immortalized by him as though he were Picasso. You didn’t see any portraits?”<\/p>\n

“In the foyer I recall seeing a portrait of a fat old woman sitting in a chair. \u00a0It wasn’t Whistler’s mother, but it wasn’t as bad as those food paintings.”<\/p>\n

“That old woman was probably the grandmother who lived in the house around the time that Agnes and Marc married.”<\/p>\n

“Ah, the fat one they got the Lincoln for. Marc mentioned her. \u00a0What about Anthony? Agnes told me that he was a widower. I rather liked the guy. By the way, how is it that you speak English so well?”<\/p>\n

“Ai, yai, yai. Gringas! My father was with Spain’s foreign service. \u00a0As a kid, I went to a private school in Virginia for several years. \u00a0When he retired we settled here and became citizens. Incidentally, I’m married, but I live at a men’s club. \u00a0I’m sort of separated from my wife.”<\/p>\n

“Any children?”<\/p>\n

“I have four children but only the first two are mine – the two oldest ones are grown and live and work in Mexico City.”<\/p>\n

“Is this why you’re separated? \u00a0The younger children that aren’t yours?”<\/p>\n

“Are you planning to write my biography? \u00a0All right. \u00a0I’ll indulge you just to take a break from this messy prescription business.” \u00a0He sighed. “I knew the two youngest ones – they’ve just finished high school – weren’t mine, but her lover dumped her right after they were born and she cozied up to me again. \u00a0Then recently, he came back into her life, and I moved out. Despite this nasty history, I like women… not men. Blue is my favorite color and I’m an Aries. Mozart is my favorite composer and I’m a lousy tennis player.”<\/p>\n

“Before you tell me whether you vote liberal or conservative, could you tell me if Tony was also involved in the… let’s say, ‘nefarious’ activities? \u00a0And is Clara’s baby a Celine? \u00a0What kind of hornet’s nest did I just fall into?” She suppressed a desire to cry. “When we get back to The Beagle, I’ll call my secretary and ask her to cancel all my appointments for the next week, although it may require much longer than that for me to get my wits back sufficiently to treat someone.”<\/p>\n

“You’ll be fine. \u00a0You’re a woman of experience,” he grinned. \u00a0“So, near the end of the month will come your birthday. \u00a0I hope you spend it at home. \u00a0Will you please not discuss this case with anyone? \u00a0I’d like to see you turn 47. By the way, what sign is that?”<\/p>\n

“Scorpio.”<\/p>\n

“Ah! Alacr\u00e1n! \u00a0I should have guessed it.”<\/p>\n

Go to Issue #3<\/a><\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A day of enjoyable sailing ends with the bad news of Agnes Celine’s death and the worse news that Karen Breiton is suspected of having caused her death. Karen has stumbled into someone’s trap. But who or why or what the event will have on her professional reputation are questions only a Mexican police detective can answer. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":483,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"neve_meta_sidebar":"","neve_meta_container":"","neve_meta_enable_content_width":"","neve_meta_content_width":0,"neve_meta_title_alignment":"","neve_meta_author_avatar":"","neve_post_elements_order":"","neve_meta_disable_header":"","neve_meta_disable_footer":"","neve_meta_disable_title":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[10,21],"tags":[30,23],"class_list":["post-482","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-english","category-free-e-books","tag-a-prescription-for-murder","tag-tales-from-the-sangha"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/482","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=482"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/482\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":560,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/482\/revisions\/560"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/483"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=482"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=482"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zatma.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=482"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}