Read The Cradle Will Fall for Free Online

two
    Homicide Squad detectives assigned to the Lewis suicide.

     
    Katie arrived first. As she eased herself into a chair, Scott looked
    at her with a hint of a smile. He was a small man with a surprisingly
    deep voice. Large-rimmed glasses, a dark, neat mustache
    and meticulously tailored conservative suit made him look more
    like a banker than a law enforcer. Now he observed Katie's bandaged
    arm and the bruise under her eye.

     
    "Thanks for coming in, Katie," he said. "If you start feeling
    rotten, you'd better go home." Then he became businesshke. "The
    Lewis case. What have we got on it?"

     
    While she was talking, Richard came in with Charley Nugent and
    Phil Cunningham. Silently they settled in the remaining chairs.
    Scott listened to Katie, then turned to the detectives. "What did
    you come up with?"

     
    Phil Cunningham pulled out his notebook. "That place was no
    honeymoon cottage. The neighbors liked Chris Lewis, but they
    thought Vangie was a pain in the neck. At parties she was always
    hanging on him; got upset if he talked more than five minutes to
    another woman. Then when she got pregnant she was really insufferable.
    Talked baby all the time."

     
    Charley opened his notebook. "Her obstetrician's office called
    to make an appointment. I said we'd talk to her doctor tomorrow."
    Richard spoke quietly. "There are a few questions I'd like to
    ask that doctor about Vangie Lewis' condition."

     
    Scott looked at Richard. "You've finished the autopsy?"

     
    "Yes. It was definitely cyanide. She died instantly. Which leads
    to the crucial point."

     
    There were some paper cups and a water pitcher on top of the
    file cabinet. Walking over to the file, Richard poured a generous
    amount of water into a cup. "Suppose this is filled with dis

     

     
     
    solved cyanide," he said. "I take a large gulp." Quickly he swallowed.
    He held up the paper cup. It was still nearly half full. "In
    my judgment, Vangie Lewis must have drunk at least the approximately
    three ounces I just swallowed in order to have the amount
    of cyanide we found in her system. But here's the problem. The
    outside of her lips and chin and even her neck were burned. The
    only way that could have happened would have been if she spit a
    lot of the stuff out. But would she then take another mouthful? No
    way. The reaction is instantaneous."

     
    Richard went on to explain his belief that Vangie Lewis could
    not have walked comfortably in the shoes that had been laced on
    her feet. While Katie listened, she visualized Vangie's face. The
    face she had seen in the dream and the face she'd seen on the bed
    slid back and forth in her mind. She forced her attention back to
    the room. Charley was saying, "Richard and I feel the husband
    noticed something about the body that he didn't tell us."

     
    "I think it was the shoes," Richard said.
    Katie turned to Scott. "I told you about the phone call Chris
    Lewis made."

     
    "You did." Scott Myerson leaned back in his chair. "All right.
    You two"—he pointed to Charley and Phil—"find out everything
    you can about Lewis. See who this Joan is. Find out what time
    his plane came in this morning. Check on phone calls Vangie Lewis
    made the last few days. Katie, try to see Mrs. Lewis' doctor and get
    his opinion of her mental and physical condition."

     
    "I can tell you about her physical condition," Richard said.
    "If she hadn't delivered that baby soon, she could have saved
    her cyanide."

     
    "There's another thing. Where did she get the cyanide?"

     
    "No trace of it in the house," Charley reported. "Not a drop."

     
    "Anything else?" Scott asked.

     
    "There may be," Richard said. "But it's so far out. Give me
    another twenty-four hours. Then I may have something."

     
    Scott stood up. "I believe we all agree. We're not closing this
    as a suicide." He looked at Richard. "Is there any chance that she
    died somewhere else and was put back on her bed?"

     
    Richard frowned. "It's