The Demise of Mayor Frye

Chapter 6: The Monkshood

It was eight at night, and Detective Stone had just read the laboratory report for the jacket. The stain had been a deadly poison called monkshood or wolf's bane that if ingested, could make the heart stop and end one's life in a matter of minutes. After finding out about the poison on the jacket, Detective Stone had gone to the lab for the results for the bottle of poison in the mayor's pocket. It had been the same poison.

Now Detective Stone and two other officers were at the door of Freddie Norman's house. He rang the bell and waited for him to get down. "Mr. Norman, we've got a piece of powerful evidence that indicates you're related to the case of Mr. Frye. You're going to come with us to the precinct."

"I knew it would happen. I knew," Freddie said, walking toward the police car willingly. "I'll tell you everything."

Thirty minutes later, he was sitting on a chair in the second interrogation room, in front of Detective Stone, ready to speak. This room was somewhat darker than the first one. With its gray walls, only-slightly-lit lamps, and wooden chairs, it was a perfect choice for the first interrogation of someone new.

"He told me I should tell you the story the way he wanted. How do you want to hear?" Freddie asked.

"Mr. Norman, start from the absolute beginning and also define the pronouns that you use. I want to hear every kind of story that there is. Both his version and the correct one. And also, your voice is being recorded."

"It was a few days before Mr. Frye's death that I got an email about all my personal information: my credit card number, my car's license plate number, my social security number, the names of all my family members, etc.

"Then, some minutes later, I received another email. It was threatening me, that if I didn't do what it asked me to, it would destroy my life. I was afraid. I didn't know what to do. I decided not to do anything. And I thought of calling the police. But then, I got the third Email, telling me not to think of calling the police or ignoring the message. It was like he was monitoring me. He even knew what I was thinking."

"What did he ask you to do?" the detective asked.

"He told me that he'd already talked to Brent and that I had to cooperate with him —"

"Brent? You mean Brent Scott, the secretary?"

"Yes. Yes. He'd talked to Brent the same way he talked to me. And there was the plan. I had to loop the footage of the cameras, letting him get inside and do his job."

"He got inside?" the detective went closer to the table. "Weren't you the one to poison the mayor?"

"Poison? No. No. He didn't die by that poison. It was just a red herring. And no. I didn't go inside. I'll explain. First, when Brent went to the restroom, I looped the footage of both his and Mr. Frye's room. Then, the man who Emailed me, or someone on his behalf, I don't know, went into the room and put a thick piece of cloth in the pipe of the heater. After he got back, I set the cameras back to normal. Then, after Mr. Frye got to his room, he was drunk, and he was poisoned by carbon monoxide. He stood up from his desk, walked a bit, and fell on the ground, and died. Then, Brent went to the restroom again, I looped the footage again, and he went to the room again. He removed the cloth, opened the windows of the room, and poured some drops of the poison in his mouth to misdirect the investigations."

Detective Stone was shocked and curious at the same time. Some parts of his brain wanted to wait and let things digest, but other parts wanted to know the rest of the story immediately. "You're telling me that he didn't die by monkshood poison? You're saying that the results of his post-mortem examinations will match this story?"

"Yes. Yes. Pretty sure."

"So, continue. Where was the man when Mr. Frye was in his room?"

"I have no idea, but considering that he knew every other place was monitored by cameras, he must have gone to the restroom."