Flu
Chapter 94
Kate extends her hand when L.T. brings Bob Skillis up to the bullpen. "Mr. Skillis, thank you for coming in. I really appreciate it."
"Not a problem," the salesman insists. "After a week with the grandkids at Disneyworld, talking with adults will be like a vacation for me." He turns to Rick. "And Mr. Castle, my wife enjoys your books very much. I always know what to get her as a stocking stuffer for Christmas." He pats his briefcase. "Actually, if you don't mind, I brought one for you to autograph. I stopped by home to get it on my way here."
Rick sets his face in his book-signing smile. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Skillis."
Kate gestures toward the lounge. "We can talk in there."
Rick winks at Bob. "Comfortable chairs. I've chased my daughter around the mouse's abode. I know how it feels."
As Bob settles in, Kate flips to a blank page on a legal pad. "Mr. Skillis."
"Bob, please," Skillis interrupts.
"Bob, then, as I told you on the phone, Mr. Castle and I are working on a cold case involving a little girl who died after inhaling strychnine."
Skillis shakes his head. "Yes, terrible thing. You said it happened in 1995. After all these years, how can I help?"
"Windom Wheatley told us that you were dealing in rodenticides at the time and that you have an excellent memory for your clients," Rick jumps in.
"Never forget a name or an order," Skillis confirms.
"Our working theory is that the child encountered a large quantity of a strychnine-containing pesticide stored at a home with extensive grounds," Kate continues. "Does that ring a bell with you?"
Bob runs his hand over slightly thinning salt and pepper hair. "Back in 1995, I made sales to several places in this area that would fit that description. The closest one is in Flushing. It isn't entirely a private home anymore. But they still have to prevent invasions by wildlife. It's a wedding venue now, Libation Hill."
"I've been at the Hill," Rick responds. "One of the lights of the Poe Society got married there. As I recall, the grounds are surrounded by woods where forest creatures could hang out, but there's also an area of much lower-cost housing, probably originally intended for the help, on the other side of a fence."
"That's it," Skillis confirms. "And I can give you a list of a few others, but Libation Hill is the only one within city limits. Is there anything else I can tell you?"
"Do you remember the name of the person who would have been using the strychnine?" Kate asks.
"The order came through what I guess you would call the majordomo of the estate. His name is," Skillis closes his eyes, "John Hillerman. He's still there. I get orders from him for more modern solutions to pest problems. But other than my first cold call, when someone opened the gate for me and retreated, I never had a face to face with any of his staff. Hillerman's contact information is on my phone if you need it."
"Thank you, Bob, that would be very helpful," Kate acknowledges.
Skillis grins. "My pleasure. After I come home with Mr. Castle's autograph, my wife will suspend my 'honey-do' list for a month."
Rick grins back. "Glad to be of service."
John Hillerman reminds Rick of Batman's butler Alfred Pennyworth, the Alan Napier version from the camp Adam West series that aired in the '60s. He's endlessly polite but a centering force. Kate was surprised when Hillerman agreed to come to the 12th, but the man declared that he is always ready to do his civic duty. Too bad most of the citizenry doesn't feel that way.
"A five-year-old girl in 1995," Hillerman considers, stroking a face clean-shaven except for a well-kept white mustache. "We had no young children living in the house at that time. Terrence was 16, and he was away at boarding school."
"How about any who lived on the periphery of the estate, children of staff perhaps?" Castle inquires.
Hillerman nods. "Yes, very possible. A number of the staff had children. We invited them in for a party at Christmas and an egg roll around Easter. Sometimes they were curious and wiggled through the fence, but their parents generally found them and took them home. I can't recall a child being hurt or damaging anything, at least not seriously."
"But they were on the grounds occasionally," Kate presses.
"Yes, they were," Hillerman admits.
"Mr. Hillerman, where were the groundskeeping materials stored?" Castle queries.
"In what we used as a maintenance shed. It's larger than a shed, actually. It was originally built as a carriage house. The building's been converted to an alternate, very charming, small venue now. But in 1995, seed, fertilizer, tools, were all in there."
"How about pesticides?" Kate questions.
"They were in the carriage house as well."
Castle springs up and paces around the small lounge. "A five-year-old girl in her prettiest dress and shiny Mary Janes stares through the fence. Libation Hill seems like a king and queen's palace, with a prince waiting to meet his princess. She dreams of going to a ball, like Cinderella. Mr. Hillerman, to that little girl, would that carriage house have looked like the place where a fairy godmother would turn a pumpkin into a coach?"
"I never thought about it before, but it might," Hillerman admits. "But even if she climbed the fence or slipped through it, the carriage house was kept locked."
"No one on the staff ever left it open to come back and get something?" Kate asks.
Hillerman sighs, sinking in his chair. "I honestly don't know."
Castle continues to circle the room. "One more thing, Mr. Hillerman. How well was the staff vetted? Would anyone who worked for Libation Hill be afraid of the police for some reason?"
"Mr. Castle, my standing orders were to hire workers as cheaply as I could," Hillerman admits. "I monitored them to make sure the work was getting done, and nothing was disappearing, but if any of them had a problem with law enforcement, I didn't know about it."
"Do you still have records of your employees from that far back?" Kate asks.
"Detective Beckett, I have records of everything and everyone under my supervision since I took my position at the Hill in 1975. Sometimes being able to reach a former contact can be invaluable. Anything over seven years old, however, is stored offsite. If you believe it is necessary, I can arrange for you to have access."
"Mr. Hillerman," Kate replies, "I believe it is essential."
"You've been stirring that coffee for five minutes now," Kate notes, downing a bottle of water in the break room.
"What? Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about Mary Jane, Felicia, and Courtney and how easy it was for them to disappear. In a flash, kids can be gone, maybe forever."
"We don't know that Felicia and Courtney are gone, Babe," Kate reminds him. "I haven't even received any data on Jeffrey G, yet. And someone knew that Mary Jane was gone, or she would never have ended up in the park."
"Still, Kate, it's terrifying. I lost Alexis in a mall once. She was fine, but I still have nightmares about it. And now we'll have another little one to protect. How would you feel about hiring a commando, or maybe implanting the girls with chips? I read that Prince Charles has one."
"I happen to know that you already track the GPS on Alexis' phone when she's out late. Unless she's in line for a throne somewhere, that's probably more than enough. She could be mad as hell if she finds out. And right now, we know exactly where the baby is. One thing at a time, OK? Drink your coffee."
Rick takes a sip and grimaces, "It's cold."
