Patricia Cornwell - Cause Of Death

Her words had the effect of a fired gun. She had our complete attention, both of us startled.

"He came in, I guess it was around five, cause it was still early," she said. "You know, there were some in here drinking beer just like always. But not too many in for dinner yet. He sat right over there."

She pointed at an empty table beneath a hanging spider plant all the way in back, where there was a painting of a rooster on the white brick wall. As I stared at the table where Danny had eaten last while in this city because of me, I saw him in my mind. He was alive and helpful with his clean features and shiny long hair, then bloody and muddy on a dark hillside strewn with garbage. My chest hurt, and for a moment, I had to look away. I had to do something else with my eyes.

When I was more composed, I turned to Daigo and said, "He worked for me at the medical examiner's office. His name was Danny Webster."

She looked at me a long time, my meaning very clear.

"Uh-oh," she said in a low voice. "That's him. Oh sweet Jesus, I can't believe it. It's been all over the news, people in here talking about it all night 'cause it's just down the street."

"Yes," I said.

She looked at Marino as if pleading with him. "He was just a boy. Come in here not minding no one, and all he did was eat his sailor sandwich and then someone kills him!

I tell you"-she angrily wiped down the counter-there's too much meanness. Too damn much! I'm sick of it. You understand me? People just kill like it's nothing."

Several diners nearby overheard our conversation, but they continued their own without stares or asides. Marino was in uniform. He clearly was the brass, and that tended to inspire people to mind their own affairs. We waited until Daigo had sufficiently vented her spleen, and we found a table in the quietest corner of the bar. Then she nodded for a waitress to stop by.

"What you want, sugar?" Daigo asked me.

I did not think I could ever eat again, and ordered herbal tea, but she would not hear of that.

"I tell you what, you bring the Chief here a bowl of my bread pudding with Jack Daniel's sauce, don't worry, the wiskey's cooked off," she said, and she was the doctor now. "And a cup of strong coffee. Captain?" She looked at Marino. "You want your usual, honey? Uh-huh," she said before he could respond. "That will be one steak sandwich medium rare, grilled onions, extra fries. And he likes A. I., ketchup, mustard, mayo. No dessert. We want to keep this man alive."

"You mind?" Marino got out his cigarettes, as if he needed one more thing that might kill him this day.

Daigo lit up a cigarette, too, and told us more about what she remembered, which was everything because the Hill Cafe was the sort of bar where people noticed strangers.

Danny, she said, had stayed less than an hour. He had come and gone alone, and it had not appeared that he was expecting anyone to join him. He had seemed mindful of the time because he frequently checked his watch, and he had ordered a sailor sandwich with fries and a Pepsi. Danny Webster's last meal had cost him five dollars and twenty. cents. His waitress was named Cissy, and he had tipped her a dollar.

"And you didn't see anybody in the area that made your antenna go up? Not at any point today?" Marino asked.

Daigo shook her head. "No sir. Now that doesn't mean there wasn't some son of a bitch hanging out somewhere on the street… "Cause they're out there. You don't have to go far to find 'em. But if there was somebody, I didn't see him. Nobody who came in here complained about anybody out there like that, either."

"Well, we need to check with your customers, as many as we can," Marino said. "Maybe a car was noticed around the time Danny went out."

"We got charge receipts." She plucked at her hair and by now it was looking wild. "Most people who been in here we know anyhow."

We were about to leave, but there was one more detail I needed to know. "Daigo," I asked, "did he take anything with him to go?"

She looked perplexed and got up from the table. "Let me ask."

Marino crushed out another cigarette, and his face was deep red.

"Are you all right?" I said.

He mopped his face with a napkin. "It's hot as shit in here."

"He took his fries," Daigo announced when she got back. "Cissy says he ate his sandwich and slaw but she wrapped almost all of his fries. Plus when he got to the register, he bought a jumbo pack of gum."

"What kind'?" I asked.

"She's pretty sure it was Dentyne. As Marino and I stepped outside, he loosened the neck of his white uniform shirt and yanked off his tie. "Damn, some days I wish I'd never left A Squad," he said, for when he had commanded detectives it had been in street clothes. "I don't care who's watching," he muttered. "I'm about to die."

"Please tell me if you're serious," I said.

"Don't worry, I'm not ready for one of your tables yet.

I just ate too much."

"Yes, you did," I said. "And you smoked too much, too. And that's what prepares people for my tables, goddamn it. Don't you even think about dying, I'm tired of people dying."

We had reached my station wagon and he was staring at me, searching for anything I might not want him to see.

"Are you okay?"

"What do you think? Danny worked for me." My hand shook as I fumbled with the key. "He seemed nice and decent. It seemed he always tried to do what was right. He was driving my car here from Virginia Beach because I asked him to and now he's missing the back of his head.

How the hell do you think I feel?"

"I think you feel like this is somehow your fault."

"And maybe it is."

We stood in the dark, looking at each other.

"No, it's not," he said. "It's the fault of the asshole who pulled the trigger. You had nothing in the world to do with that. But if it was me, I'd feel the same way."

"My God," I suddenly said.

"What?" He was alarmed, and he looked around as if I had spotted something.

"His doggie bag. What happened to it? It wasn't inside my Mercedes. There was nothing in there that I could see.

Not even a gum wrapper," I said.

"Damn, you're right. And I didn't see nothing on the where your ride was parked. Nothing with the body street or anywhere at the scene, either."

the place no one had looked, and it was right There was o where we were, on this street by the restaurant. So Marino and I got out flashlights again and prowled. We looked along Broad Street, but it was on 28th near the curb where we found the small white bag as a large dog began barking from a yard. The bag's location suggested that Danny had parked my car as close to the cafe as possible in an area where buildings and trees cast dense shadows and lights were few.

"You got a couple pencils or pens inside your purse?"

Marino squatted by what we suspected might be the remains of Danny's dinner.

I found one pen and a long-handled comb, which I gave to him. Using these simple instruments, he opened the bag without touching it as he probed. Inside were cold French fries wrapped in foil and a jumbo pack of Dentyne gum.

The sight of them was jolting and told a terrible story.

Danny had been confronted as he had walked out of the cafe to my car. Perhaps someone emerged from shadows and pulled a gun as Danny was unlocking the door. We did not know, but it seemed likely he was forced to drive a street away, where he was walked to a remote wooded hillside to die.

"I wish that damn dog would shut up," Marino said as he stood. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

He crossed the street to his car and opened the trunk.

When he returned, he was carrying the usual large brown paper bag police used for evidence. While I held it open, he maneuvered the comb and pencils to drop Danny's leftovers inside.