His fingers were drumming on his desk. “It’s not that simple.”
“You’ve got to…”
Inspector Burns raised a hand. “All right. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll talk to the district attorney’s office and see whether they think we have a case.”
Paige knew she had gone as far as she could. “Thank you, inspector.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
After Paige Taylor left, Inspector Burns sat there thinking about their conversation. There was no hard evidence against Dr. Mallory, only the suspicions of a persistent woman. He reviewed the few facts that he had. Dr. Mallory had been engaged to Kat Hunter. Two days after she died, he was engaged to Alex Harrison’s daughter. Interesting, but not against the law.
Mallory had said that he dropped Dr. Hunter off at her front door and did not go into the apartment. Semen was found in her body, but he had a plausible explanation for that.
Then there was the matter of the chloral hydrate. Mallory had written a prescription for a drug that could have killed his patient. Was he guilty of murder? Not guilty?
Burns buzzed his secretary on the intercom. “Barbara, get me an appointment with the district attorney this afternoon.”
There were four men in the office when Paige walked in: the district attorney, his assistant, a man named Warren, and Inspector Burns.
“Thank you for stopping by, Dr. Taylor,” the district attorney said. “Inspector Burns has been telling me of your interest in the death of Dr. Hunter. I can appreciate that. Dr. Hunter was your roommate, and you want to see justice done.”
So they’re going to arrest Ken Mallory after all!
“Yes,” Paige said. “There’s no doubt about it. Dr. Mallory killed her. When you arrest him, he—”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
Paige looked at him blankly. “What?”
“We can’t arrest Dr. Mallory.”
“But why?”
“We have no case.”
“Of course you have!” Paige exclaimed. “The trichloroethylene proves that—”
“Doctor, in a court of justice, ignorance of the law is no excuse. But ignorance in medicine is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple. It means that Dr. Mallory could claim he made a mistake, that he didn’t know what effect chloral hydrate would have on a patient with porphyria. No one could prove he was lying. It might prove that he’s a lousy doctor, but it wouldn’t prove that he’s guilty of murder.”
Paige looked at him in frustration. “You’re going to let him get away with this?”
He studied her a moment. “I’ll tell you what I’m prepared to do. I’ve discussed this with Inspector Burns. With your permission, we’re going to send someone to your apartment to pick up the glasses in the bar. If we find any traces of chloral hydrate, well take the next step.”
“What if he rinsed them out?”
Inspector Burns said dryly, “I don’t imagine he took the time to use a detergent. If he just rinsed out the glasses, we’ll find what we’re looking for.”
Two hours later, Inspector Burns was on the phone with Paige.
“We did a chemical analysis of all the glasses in the bar, doctor,” Burns said.
Paige steeled herself for disappointment.
“We found one with traces of chloral hydrate.”
Paige closed her eyes in a silent prayer of thanks.
“And there were fingerprints on that glass. We’re going to check them against Dr. Mallory’s prints.”
Paige felt a surge of excitement.
The inspector went on, “When he killed her—if he did kill her—he was wearing gloves, so his fingerprints wouldn’t be on the curette. But he couldn’t very well have served her a drink while he wore gloves, and he might not have worn them when he put the glass back on the shelf after rinsing it out.”
“No,” Paige said. “He couldn’t, could he?”
“I have to admit that in the beginning, I didn’t believe your theory was going anywhere. I think now maybe Dr. Mallory could be our man. But proving it is going to be another matter.” He continued, “The district attorney is right. It would be a tricky business to bring Mallory to trial. He can still say that the prescription was for his patient. There’s no law against making a medical mistake. I don’t see how we—”