Chapter 117

Sgt. Digby called Valley Fresh Co-op and asked for the plant manager.
Francis Edward was a young import from the States somewhere. He was working late.
Digby knew him vaguely from various community events that Valley Fresh supported financially, like building the indoor soccer arena in Kentville.
He came on the line and seemed cooperative.
He told her the plant indeed stocked commercial-grade rat poison. “We don’t have a problem or anything. It’s just standard. Goes with the territory.”
“Can you tell me what kind it is?”
“I think I can pull it up on the computer,” Edward said. The line went quiet for a minute. “Here we go. It’s called… Havoc.”
“Havoc. That must be the brand name. Is there a way to tell what chemical is in it? What kind of poison?”
“Uhhhh, I think it’s barium or something,” Edward mumbled along for a few seconds, apparently reading some product information. “Okay. Here we go… it’s called brodi-facoum. B-R-O-D-I-F-A-C-O-U-M.”
Digby closed her eyes, thankfully. She started to feel an excited, tingling in her mid-chest. Brodifacoum. The same rodenticide that was in Jack Lee’s tissues.
Edward explained that the chemical was stored at the plant in five-gallon pails, which were housed in a locked chemicals cage in the basement shipping-and-receiving area.
“Do you keep track of how much you have in stock?” Digby asked.
“Yup,” Edward said. Another pause. “It’s a regulated pest control product. We track it pretty good, actually. I can tell you, just from my computer, we received an order of five pails of Havoc, delivered September 7, which made a total of seven in stock and probably one more on the go.”
Digby was still excited. “When you say it’s kept in a locked chemical’s cage, does that mean an average employee would not be able to get their hands on any, hypothetically?”
“I really do not like the sound of this. You know how it is. I mean. I imagine- in fact, I know the cage is left open sometimes- I’ve gone down there before and seen the cage sitting wide open, during the day. But you have to be an employee with an access card to get down to the basement. If an employee was stealing the stuff in dribs and drabs, we’d never know it. As long as they didn’t steal a whole pail at a time.”
“I’m going to need to come down there, Francis. I need to take a sample of the stuff from the open pail. I probably need a whole pail. Is that okay?”
“Will you tell me what it’s for? What do I need to prepare for? Is this like a-”
Digby cut him off. “Do you have any video surveillance at the plant? Do you have any video surveillance?”
The manager sighed. “I wish. We tried to install a couple cameras, but there was a union issue. They don’t want to be spied on while they work, or don’t work, as the case may be. They got a point, I guess. We’re allowed to have a camera on the shipping belt, to track orders going out, but no cameras on any workers.”
“Shit.”
“You’re right.”
“Okay. Hold on a sec, Edward.”
Digby had her cellphone going in her other hand. She was calling Agarwal, who was working his armed robbery and aggravated assault case at the Price Chopper in Berwick. She caught him in the middle of eating lunch.
“Ross Aga-wal,” he said with a full mouth.
“Hey. Any luck down there?”
He blew a blast of staticy air out over the phone. “I’m going to have to follow this idiot around, all night. His girlfriend works here and says he did it, but he had a mask on. He made off with 35 carton of smokes. I got to keep tailing him until he visits his stash.”
“Bummer.”
“What’s up with you?”
Digby could barely suppress her excitement. “I need a hard tail up here, too, I guess, but I’ll do it myself. I may have a suspect. Another suspect.”
“Woah! In the reporter shooting?”
Digby was unofficially working the shooting of Rawle Powder, although Cpl. Agarwal had been assigned the file. Agarwal had not even spoken to the reporter yet, but they both figured the shooting was part and parcel of the Jack and Tee double homicide.
“The Lee case,” Digby said. “Another suspect, besides the M family, I mean.”
“No shit? I didn’t know you were looking for anybody else,” Agarwal said. “Can you say over the cell phone?”
“I’ll tell you later. I don’t wanna say, but his name rhymes with Child Bearin’.” She hung up and continued her phone conversation with Francis Edwards, on the land line. “Francis?”
“I’m still here.”
“Sorry about that. I can’t tell you exactly what’s going on, but I promise that if something happens, you’ll know about it before anyone else does, and your company will be protected.”
“Oh boy. I’m getting really nervous, now.”
“Just trust me. If the public has to hear your name, it will be about how well you cooperated and how diligent and careful you were.”
“Okay. I’m trusting you. I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Digby caught herself almost hanging up. “Wait. One more thing. Hello?”
“Still here,” he said.
“I don’t want you repeating this name to anyone, is that clear? You have no idea why I’m asking…”
“What name?”
“I haven’t told you the name yet. It’s Kyle Verryn. He’s a casual employee of yours, on second shift.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. He’s probably new, if he’s casual.”
She got up from her desk and got ready to go home, pulling the phone off the desk with her as she grabbed her coat. “I need you to speak with his immediate supervisor. I need to know if he’s had any disciplinary problems, any problems with co-workers. Stuff like that. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course. I’ll do it right now.”
“When you’re done you can reach me on my cell. 670-3443. Okay?”
He said okay.