Read Online Old Poison by Joan Francis - Free Book Online

television or radio
without hearing something about Mars or environmental issues.
Pictures from JPL showed what scientists believed was evidence of
water on Mars, and an international conference was predicting a
disastrous rise in global warming. I started avoiding the papers,
and turned to reading historical novels and watching old movies. My
avoidance therapy was beginning to work. Then the call came.
    “May I speak to Diana Hunter, please?”
    “Speaking.”
    “Ms. Hunter, this is Neal Camas. I am a
Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation in
Flagstaff, Arizona. Are you a licensed private investigator in the
state of California?”
    “Yes, ah, could you hold just a moment,
Agent Camas.” I try never to answer questions over the phone unless
I’m sure who is on the other end of the line. “Agent Camas, I have
an urgent call on the other line. Could I call you back in about
five minutes?”
    Most professionals understand the need to
verify a caller’s ID, and after a pause he supplied me with a
number and extension. After verifying that the number was, in fact,
the FBI office, I dialed him back and waited while the receptionist
put me through to his line.
    “Agent Camas, this is Diana Hunter. How may
I help you?”
    “Ms. Hunter, we need your assistance in
identifying a woman found dead on the Navajo Reservation.”
    Stunned by this request, I took a moment
before answering. “Is there some reason I should know her? I don’t
believe I’m acquainted with any Navajo women.”
    “She’s not Navajo, and your business card
was found in her bra. It was the only ID on the body.”
    To myself, I mouthed the name “High
Pockets.”
    Hearing my whisper, he asked, “What was
that?”
    I needed think time. Why did they need me?
With Evelyn’s arrest record from her protest days, her prints must
be in the system. “I really don’t know how someone in Arizona could
get my card. Did her fingerprints give you any possible ID?”
    There was a long pause, then he said, “With
the condition of the body, there were no prints.”
    The vision of a totally decayed body I had
once found came to mind unbidden. Memory of the sight and its
unforgettable stench made my stomach turn. “Will there be anything
recognizable for me to ID?”
    “Oh, yes. Her face is undamaged.”
    “Then what happened to her prints?”
    Another pause. “We won’t speculate about
that now, Ms. Hunter. The bureau is requesting that you fly down
here. I can authorize something toward your expenses.”
    His tone made the request sound a bit more
compelling than a simple invitation, so naturally, I agreed. I
didn’t need to piss off the FBI. Finishing my call with Agent
Camas, I turned on the computer and was about to search for airline
tickets when a message appeared on my blank screen:
    IT’S TOO LATE FOR EVELYN, BUT YOU CAN STILL
BE OF HELP. THE FBI HAS WASTED TIME IN NOTIFYING YOU. MORE MONEY
HAS BEEN DEPOSITED TO YOUR CLIENT TRUST FUND. PLEASE INVESTIGATE
HER MURDER AND FIND THE MARTIAN DIARY . THE BUREAU DOES NOT
HAVE IT. B
    This was not an email. It was just waiting
to come up on the screen the minute I booted up. How the hell did
he do that? The computer hadn’t even been on. How did he know about
my client fund? Scared and mystified, I reached for the phone and
dialed Sam.

    * * * * *

TWELVE

    As I looked down at her lifeless body, I
couldn’t help pondering the big question. Where had the life gone?
Was the real Professor Evelyn Lilac out there? Was her spirit
floating somewhere around this room, glaring down at me for my
failure, or was this inanimate organic form all there was? I like
to believe that life is an energy and that, as Einstein said,
energy can be neither created nor destroyed, only transformed. I
like to believe birth and death are only transformations of that
energy form, and that it remains a unique soul. I like to believe
it, but I know it could be wishful thinking.
    Agent Camas was watching my face