Silenced by the Yams - By Karen Cantwell Page 0,44

just need to come clean. It’s time to tell the truth.”

“Randy—”

“It was syrup of ipecac to make Kurt vomit. That’s all. Part of silly prank. Kurt loved practical jokes and played them on Jorge more than once. It was our turn. Jorge slipped the ipecac into the yams. He was just supposed to vomit, that’s all. Not die. We had no idea. And we absolutely do not know how they became poisoned. Right Jorge? I don’t want to go to jail! I don’t know why I went along with it, but Jorge asked me and I do what he asks because he takes care of me. Hair plugs aren’t cheap, you know. Vomit! He was just supposed to vomit!” Randolph was on the verge of tears.

My phone rang, startling everyone. My first thought was to ignore it, but I’d been away from the house so many hours, I was worried something might be wrong. A quick peek told me it was Howard. Still concerned about the home front, I took several steps backward and took the call. “Hi, honey, what’s up?”

Colt was rolling his eyes. Meanwhile, Susan stood and started talking to Randolph. I wanted to hear what she was saying, but I had to concentrate on Howard.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m in DC—the American Cinema League.”

“What are you doing there?” I sensed concern in his voice.

What was I doing there? Learning that Randolph Rutter was in the closet and that he and Jorge had played a practical joke that went deadly wrong. Interesting information, but none of it helped Frankie’s case. “Nothing really, it seems,” I said.

“Listen, I can’t talk long, but I just called the house and my mother said you’ve been gone all morning. Would you please leave that place right now and get home to check on her?”

“Sure. I’m done here anyway.”

“You’re leaving right now, right? Do I have your word?”

“Yes, Howard, I just told you,” I sighed. “I’ll leave for home now.”

I ended the call lickety split, just in time to catch Susan leaving in a huff and Randolph following her in tears. That arrogant confidence was just a façade after all.

“Where are they going?” I asked Colt.

“Golightly is heading to her other meeting and Randolph is going to take a breather in Jorge’s office. Jorge claims he can provide the bottle of ipecac with both of their fingerprints on it. He readily admits that he stirred it into the yams before Frankie scooped them out.”

I asked Jorge why he didn’t tell the police this sooner. He explained that he knew he should have told the emergency technicians about the ipecac, but everything happened so fast, and he was protecting his own reputation as the president of the DC ACL chapter. Presidents didn’t pull such publicly disgusting pranks, much less the kind that went horribly wrong. He’d lose his job. He fully admitted to personal misconduct and poor judgment, but murder was never intended. The police didn’t approach him again until the lab report indicated the presence of the three poisons. The first thing they asked Jorge was who prepared the yams—he told them the truth, that it was Frankie and then boom, they had their man.

“I mean, really, Mrs. Marr, I know you consider the man your friend, but from what I understand, they have the poison in their possession and Romano’s fingerprints all over the bottle. You need to consider the possibility that Randolph pissed him off and Frankie poisoned those yams himself.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it.”

“Well, we’re not it, either.”

The intercom on the wall phone buzzed. The receptionist’s voice told Jorge that Senator Juarez was on line one for him. Jorge said he’d call back later. The intercom light blinked off. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “Excuse me, I need to check on Randolph now.”

Colt was right. We eventually came up empty handed. This road was closed. And I wasn’t sure there were any other routes open for helping Frankie.

“Sorry for the upset we caused here,” Colt said.

“Right,” Clarence said, hanging his head like a hound dog. “Sorry, Mr. Borrego.”

Jorge shot Clarence a hateful look and pointed at him. “You—whatever your name is. Get your things and go. You’re fired.”

The intercom buzzed again. “Mr. Borrego,” Leslie said. “The Senator insists you take his call. He says it’s important.”

Jorge stiffened visibly. “Fine, Leslie. I’ll take it in my office.” He tipped his head to Guy. “Think you could keep this out of tonight’s newscast, Mertz?