Alethiology: The Elephant's Hand

Chapter 2

Blake Haynes continued, "This is Inspector Samson Thorndike." He pointed towards a younger man who now emerged by his side. This was a sharp-looking man with frizzled black hair. The man inclined his head in greeting.

Haynes stretched out his hand towards Clements. Clements took it and gave it a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you," Clements said.

"And who is that young lady?" Haynes asked, pointing towards Aletheia. "Your little sister?"

"He certainly treats me like one," Aletheia quipped. "Not sure if that's a good thing."

"This is our consultant," Clement clarified. "Aletheia Arkwright." He gestured towards her.

Aletheia smiled calmly. But in truth, she hated being referred to. It was too...referential. It made her exist too much.

Haynes then stretched his hand out to Aletheia. She started, paused, looked at the lines of his palm for a moment, looked up at him, and then raised the backscratcher so that the wooden hand at the end of the stick pointed towards him. Haynes was visibly confused, but took the stick and gave it a handshake anyway.

"Consultant?" Haynes mouthed. "Well, you certainly dressed for the occasion. The whole frock coat thing going on here. Reminds me of Sherlock Holmes."

"Believe me," she said, "that reference has been made innumerable times."

"Arkwright, huh?" Haynes pronounced. "Sounds like some knight's name. Do you descend from some noble family? It sounds so grand."

"It takes an etymologist to realise it just means 'one who makes boxes'," Aletheia said satirically. "Also, are you hitting on me? You are old enough to be my dad. Or my dad's dad."

"I—What?" Haynes stuttered. "No, I wasn't. And I must say, it is highly inappropriate on your part to make such a suggestion."

"Yes, highly," Aletheia repeated.

Haynes turned to Clements. "Could you please keep your consultant under control?"

"Sir, I apologise," Clements said. "She is somewhat eccentric—"

Before he could finish, Aletheia redirected everyone's attention by turning the backscratcher towards Thorndike. "And that is?" she asked, emulating Haynes' bearing when he had referred to herself.

Thorndike glanced at his chief for approval. Haynes nodded. He took the stick and shook the stick as well.

"Uh," Aletheia muttered, turning to Haynes. "Inspector...Heinrich...was it? Himmler?"

"Haynes. Blake Haynes," he corrected her with a decided tone of unamusement. "And it's Chief Inspector."

"Who's dead again?" she blurted out. "Remind me. I forgot."

Haynes gave Clements a look. "The deceased," Haynes began, "is district attorney Anne Sherman. She was found with intracranial haemorrhage. No sign of a break-in."

"Her husband, Tim Sherman," Thorndike said, "had found her like this when he woke up in the morning. He contacted the hospital first and told them that his wife was not breathing and had no pulse."

A third voice chimed in, explaining, "The paramedics did not attempt to resuscitate her as they found that she had been dead for more than eight hours. As the rigor mortis indicates."

Aletheia turned to look at the man who had uttered these words.

It was a tall and lanky man with dark hair, dressed in a white coat, walking over from the group of technicians crowded around the body. He wore blue nitrile gloves over his hands. The tag hanging around his neck indicated that he was a forensic pathologist, Dr Curtis Marek. Aletheia recognised that name. He was the State Medical Examiner.

Dr Marek said, "The manner of death of Anne Sherman appears to be homicide rather than a natural death. There was a complete lack of prior medical conditions."

"What was the cause?" Clements asked. "Blunt force trauma to the head?"

"The cause of death is pending," Dr Marek said. "It appears that she struck her head on the floor when she fell, which accounts for the haemorrhage. Whether or not that was the cause of death must await an autopsy."

"So it could be natural," Aletheia said.

"Of course," Dr Marek replied. "But I think she might have been poisoned. You know, knowing the high status of the DA. And the spotlight. And how she must have had many enemies. Murdered in revenge, I say. Right? You tell me."

Clements frowned, and asked, "Could cardiac arrest be possible? There's a lack of external injuries except for the head impact."

"Are you a doctor, Agent Clements?" Dr Marek asked. "She had no prior history of cardiac conditions. With all due respect, it is not your place to be speculating about the cause of death. A confirmation will have to await an autopsy."

"I understand. As for you, Dr Marek," Clements retorted, "with all due respect, it is not your place to be speculating about motive. There could have been none. Confirmation will have to await our investigation." He continued, "It could have been natural, as you said. Which raises the question—" He stopped himself.

Aletheia had the same question in mind. She approached Thorndike, with whom she surmised a conversation would be much less thorny than with Haynes.

"Why are we here?" she asked. "Plenty of people die suddenly without earlier warning signs. So why did the state police have to be called? Why the NSSP?"