Next day, Wojcik received the results from Victor. The fingerprints in the kitchen belonged to two people: Agnes and an unidentified man. The autopsy showed that Agnes had died from cyanide poisoning, between noon and six on Monday the 10th of June. The left-over rice and chicken were found to contain cyanide. Furthermore, Victor had discovered its traces on several kitchen surfaces. The autopsy of the cats revealed that the animals died of strychnine, however no traces of it were found in apartment 25.
Agnes suffered from hyperthyroidism: her thyroid gland was slightly swollen. The woman was also malnourished. There was a couple of hundred euros on her bank account, with no savings. She hadn't made a will, so her house went to her last living family member, with that relative being Karl Gott.
Karl Gott's fingerprints didn't match with the ones found in the victim's house, but that was no surprise to Wojcik and Farnicki. The video evidence Karl had provided proved that the pharmacist couldn't have left his house slash work to travel to Cracovia or anywhere else in the past thirty days, except for doing groceries with his wife on Saturdays. The surveillance camera had recorded him opening and closing the shop at fixed hours, with his car never leaving the premises. Farnicki and a few of his colleagues had studied the footage and didn't find anything suspicious.
"That footage only proves that Karl didn't leave through the front door of his house or the front entrance of the pharmacy. The pharmacist could've used the backdoor or a window to sneak out unnoticed. It's only a two-hour drive from Cracovia to here. He could've done that after work or at night when his wife was asleep, going by train or by a secretly rented car and return home that same night. I need to talk to his wife," Farnicki frustratingly folded a small piece of a shiny plastic wrapper of a chocolate he ate a moment ago.
"You're contradicting yourself, Farnicki. You said that Karl Gott likely isn't the kind of man to kill someone because he's too cautious. When I was taking his fingerprints this morning, I also got that impression. I'll tell you even more: I think the man is a coward. Killing someone in cold blood, especially a relative, takes courage and determination. Regardless of not being close with that relative and using poison as a non-violent way to get rid of him or her," Wojcik refuted.
"Yes, you're right. Poisoning is something rather a woman would do," muttered Farnicki.
"Not necessarily. The murderer, either a man or a woman, didn't care how to kill Agnes, as long as she died. The first time he, or she tried to kill Agnes with strychnine. That didn't work. The next time the poison was cyanide. The killer used everything he could get his hands on. A pharmacist, or any other chemist who had access to those toxins, would presumably prefer one of the two. However, you should talk to his wife. Make her come here. I've noticed Karl was vexed about having to travel all the way down from Cracovia for fingerprints. He even asked me if it wouldn't have been easier for the Cracovian Police Department to email the fingerprints to us. He said it would have saved him gas!"
"Oh, right! Karl is a tight ass, for sure!" Farnicki chuckled and dialled Karl's mobile number the latter sent him through email.
Nevertheless, Gott's wife hadn't anything important to share. Lydia didn't remember ever seeing her husband leave the house through the backdoor for longer than ten minutes. She also couldn't tell whether he had ever rented a car or had bought a new one. According to her, Karl always stayed at home and watched TV in the living room after work. Judging by how Lydia talked about her husband, she'd rather have him going out more often so that she could have the house to herself.
Farnicki believed in the sincerity of her ignorance of her husband's activities. She wasn't trying to cover up for him. On the contrary, if there was anything that could cast a shadow on Karl's alibi, Lydia would certainly mention it because living with that man was obviously a burden to her.
They came to a dead end. They had nothing that could show them in which direction to search for answers. Agnes had no social media, no mobile and no computer. Except for an old ring binder with the year's invoices, Agnes didn't keep any other documents that could shed a light on her mysterious life. She didn't leave a diary or any other personal notes behind. The calls from her landline were checked, however those were the regular numbers of handymen, plumbers, or electricians. Miss Kaminski couldn't remember the name of the college Agnes had graduated from and the places she had worked at. Karl Gott had no idea either and the few letters she had sent him didn't reveal anything specific about her past professional life or who could have held a grudge against her.
Farnicki was getting impatient. Normally, he knew how to deal with work stress and complicated cases, be those homicides or thefts. Ivan patiently handled all the interrogations, complaints, and mental or physical challenges that came with such investigations. However, the cat lady case made him nervous. Farnicki was afraid that the murder of Agnes Gott would be wiped under the rug like so many other cases in the Resovian Police Department.
But Farnicki was wrong about Wojcik. The Inspector wouldn't let go this time, mostly because of feeling responsible for what had happened to Agnes. Edmond wouldn't rest until the murderer was found. He did not consider excluding Karl Gott from the list of suspects, despite there being no clear indication of his motive, aside from the potential inheritance of her apartment. Wojcik didn't trust Miss Kaminski either. Even an old woman could kill her neighbour. Anyhow, there was no progress in their investigation. Only by the end of the next week things started to pick up speed.
"Hello? Could I talk to someone in charge of the Agnes Gott case, please?" Farnicki heard a woman ask in a raspy but lively voice on the other end of the line.
"Good afternoon, Ma'am. And you are?"
"My name is Dominique Moran. I have known Agnes Gott. I've read about what had happened to her in the newspaper."
"Inspector Wojcik got called in and will return later today," Farnicki lied. The Inspector wasn't back from his daily afternoon nap in his car, "maybe I could help you? I'm Detective Sergeant Ivan Farnicki working on that case."
"Oh, good. I don't know if my information will be of any use to you, but since I have known Agnes, maybe I can tell you something that can help you find her murderer."
"Of course, Miss Moran. When can you come to the police station?"
"Is it possible for you to come to my house? I'm no longer able to walk well, and I don't have a car. The bus stop is also far away from my house," Miss Moran explained apologetically.
"No problem, Miss Moran. Where do you live?"
"I live outside of town, Greenwood 16, not far from the Greenwood Stadium."
"What's the most suitable moment for you?"
"The nurse will come to check up on me this afternoon. I think I'll be available at six."
"Okay, we'll be there at six, Miss Moran!"
A few moments later Wojcik walked in.
"Sir, someone has leaked information about Gott's death to the press."
"That was me, Farnicki. I have a friend who works for the local newspaper. I was hoping for someone to contact us or the editorial after reading the article."
"Your plan worked, Sir. Miss Dominique Moran just called and said that she might have interesting information about our Agnes. She expects us at six in Greenwood."
"That's great news, Farnicki!" Wojcik smiled and went to the coffee machine by the wall in the back of the office to make coffee.
At five minutes to six Wojcik pulled up in his Lada to Greenwood 16. Farnicki hadn't been to that part of the city yet, however that neighbourhood reminded him of the rural outskirts of Wroclaw, albeit with its own mountainous charm. The stadium served as a landmark of civilisation's end, for on the other side of the road started the dense forest of the Sub-Sarmatians. As Miss Moran said, her house was not far from the stadium, in the extension of Greenwood street.
Miss Moran's house was exactly what Farnicki pictured the country house of an old lady would be. It was a tidy, small wooden panel house painted blue, with lovely white open work window frames. A well laid out gravel path led from the main road to the house, hidden from view in the pine grove.
Wojcik parked his car on the side of the road. It had just stopped raining. As Farnicki got out of the vehicle, he noticed tire marks in the mud. He figured those were left by the nurse's car Miss Moran talked about. The house was seemingly quiet and behind one of the curtained windows they saw the light of a table lamp since the cloudy weather and densely growing trees shielded off the sunlight.
Wojcik knocked on the door and waited.
"I wonder what the old lady can tell us. She lives here so secluded," Farnicki remarked.
"Don't be deceived by outward appearance, Farnicki," Wojcik knocked again but still there was no answer.
"Excuse me? Gentlemen? What are you doing there?"
An elderly lady in a checkered sports suit walked up to them, carrying a periwinkle raincoat under her arm. She looked inquiringly from one to the other.
"Hello, Ma'am. We're from the police," Wojcik showed her his badge, "we're here to talk to Miss Moran but she doesn't open the door."
"From the police!" the woman repeated in awe.
"That's right! Dom told me you'd come today. She had something important to tell you. I tried to call her this afternoon, after her nurse left, but she didn't pick up the phone. That's why I'm here!"
"And you are, Ma'am?"
"My name is Alice Niebieski. I'm a friend of Dom's. You won't mind me staying and listening? I promise, I won't tell anyone!" she said in a conspiratorial tone.
"Dom must be in the back of the house; that's why she doesn't hear you. Wait, she gave me a key," Alice rustled in her raincoat's pocket and dug out the house key. She opened the door and walked inside first, calling her friend, followed by Wojcik and Farnicki.
"Dom! Dom? Where are you, dear?"
The two police men waited in the long, commodious hallway as Alice was looking for her friend. She walked to the back of the house, where Farnicki could see the double glass door behind which was something like a winter garden. However, Dominique wasn't there. Alice returned to the corridor and opened the door to the living room. She walked inside and the men heard her addressing her friend.
"Dom? There you are! Why aren't you answering? Were you asleep, you silly? Dom! Dom? My God, no!"
Wojcik and Farnicki heard Alice let out a chilling scream. They ran inside and saw her standing by a seat next to the fireplace. They couldn't see Dominique's face because the seat was turned with its back to them. They walked around and discovered that Miss Moran had been strangled with a black cable. The killer must have approached her from the back and put the noose around her neck. Dominique had tried to fight off the strangler, because the fingers of her right hand were clinging to the cable as her left hand was hanging beside her. Her blue-grey eyes bulged out.
Wojcik involuntarily shrugged his shoulders. The dead lady in the seat reminded him of his elementary school teacher. They looked like two drops of water. The bleached wavy hair tied in a high bun. A tailored navy-blue two-piece suit. There was even a physical resemblance between the two women. If Wojcik didn't know who the victim was, he would believe that it was indeed Miss Natalia Alexander. An angry bitch from hell who used to hate him, a little eight-year-old boy, without any reason, constantly calling him by his last name.
"Farnicki, call the coroner! Miss Niebieski, have you touched anything when you walked in?"
"No," Alice muttered as she continued to stare at her dead friend.
"Miss Niebieski, come here," Wojcik gently pulled the small woman away from the crime scene and led her to the kitchen in the left wing of the house. She sat by the window as the Inspector took out a long glass from the cupboard and poured in water from a filter jug. He gave the glass to the shocked woman and sat down in front of her. Edmond watched her drink the water in little sips, holding the glass with her both slightly deformed hands, as her body trembled from subdued sobs welling up in her chest.
"Miss Niebieski, when was the last time you talked to your friend?"
"This morning. I asked her how she was doing and when I could drop by. She said she couldn't receive me today and revealed that she planned to call the police to tell them something important about a woman she knew back in the day. There was something written about that woman in the newspaper, but I forgot her name."
"Her name was Agnes Gott. She was murdered."
"Yes, Agnes. I was so stupid! I should have stopped her!" Alice started to cry.
"Why do you say that, Miss Niebieski? You knew Miss Moran was in danger?"
"No, that's the point! I didn't know that! I thought it was so exciting to tell the police some important clues that could help them to trace down the killer! But the killer must have found out about her plans!"
"Do you have any idea who Miss Moran suspected of killing Agnes Gott?"
"No, she hadn't told me. That was why I tried to reach her in the afternoon. I was curious to find out if she had already talked to you. You see, we call each other every day, sometimes even multiple times a day whenever we have something exciting to share. When she didn't answer my calls, I figured she was on the phone with someone else because Dom knows a lot of people and she rings them regularly. So, I decided to come over," Alice drank her glass of water in one gulp.
"That's all for now, Ma'am. Don't leave yet. The coroner will take your fingerprints, and we will need your information."
"What do you need my fingerprints for? I haven't done anything!" Alice exclaimed in alarm.
"No one suspects you of anything, Ma'am. But we need them to identify all the people who have been inside this house. I suppose you were here before and touched the doorknobs or the remote control."
"Yes, I was here for tea yesterday. We had a good time in Dom's winter garden."
Wojcik held the old, wrinkled hand and gently squeezed it as the woman silently wept. Farnicki appeared in the kitchen door frame.
"Sir? The coroner is on his way. Could you come to the living room for a second? I need to show you something."
Ivan led Wojcik to a round table by the parlour window. The table served as Dominique's workplace. All kinds of postcards, leaflets, and hobby magazines were arranged in neat piles on its surface. Farnicki pointed to a periodical, opened on the page that covered the murder of Agnes Gott.
"This is yesterday's newspaper. Look at this. She had circled this part of the text with a blue marker."
One of the neighbours had seen a mysterious man visiting Agnes Gott a month before she was killed. The neighbour described the man's appearance as that of a movie star.
"Well, to be precise, Miss Kaminski said he looked like an older version of a famous actor back in the day. In any case, Miss Moran recognised the man from that faulty description. That was what she wanted to tell us, but the killer got here first. What else did you find?"
"Two things. First, this phonebook," Farnicki returned to the fireplace. That spot was something like a telephone corner. Next to Dominique's seat stood a long vintage telephone table, divided into two sections. One side of the oaken table was covered with heavy cotton fabric with concentric circles in cyan, white, and purple, serving as a cushion to sit on. The other half was an open shelf with three levels; all filled with magazines and other paperwork. On top rested a modern telephone with a colour display, showing time, date, and number that was dialled or called.
Dominique didn't use the cushion, as she had a comfortable seat to sit on. Instead, she kept her phonebook on it. Wojcik leafed through the directory and noted how extensive Dominique's circle of friends and acquaintances was. Every page was filled with names and addresses, written in careful handwriting.
"Alice said that Miss Moran contacted her friends daily. We'll have to track her phone calls and carefully study this address book. Something tells me Miss Moran has talked to her killer on the phone. He found out or suspected from the conversation that the old lady was planning to report him, so he silenced her," Wojcik pensively reasoned. At that moment Victor Frank walked in. He looked at his colleagues with his eyes wide open.
"Guys, this is getting too grisly! I can't believe there is a serial killer in Resovia murdering old ladies!"
"Agnes wasn't old. She was the same age as me," Wojcik snapped, "and it's not a serial killer. Initially, the killer was only after Agnes. He killed Miss Moran because she knew something. What's that other thing you wanted to show me, Farnicki?"
The Sergeant beckoned to follow him outside, leaving Victor with the body in the living room.
"When you were parking the car, I noticed tire marks in the mud. I assumed those were of the car the nurse came with. But then I saw this," Ivan walked to a couple of birch trees standing a little off from Wojcik's car. He pointed to two narrow parallel strips in the mud.
"Those are bike tracks, left here recently," said Farnicki. Wojcik nodded in response and returned to the house. Victor was working in the living room. Edmond walked into the kitchen and found Alice sitting immovable at the same place he had left her when Farnicki came to get him. She looked out the window absently.
"Miss Niebieski?"
She turned her head to him, her eyes red rimmed from crying.
"Miss Niebieski, do you know when the nurse came to visit Miss Moran?"
"She came every week on Friday. Usually at two. She never stayed longer than twenty minutes. Dominique had diabetes. The nurse checked her blood and asked about her health."
"How does the nurse get here?"
"She drives a car."
"Do you perhaps know her name?"
"I don't know, but I think you can find her name and number in the black telephone book in the living room."
"Yes, we have found the book. We will look it up. Does Miss Moran have any family members?"
"Yes, she has one sister, Veronique Moran, but she is in Gaul right now. I know her number by heart," Wojcik gave her his notebook to write the telephone number down.
"Inspector, could I make myself some tea while I'm waiting for the coroner? It's so cold here," Alice uttered as she gave him back his pen.
"But of course, Ma'am!"
Wojcik informed Victor of the tire and bike marks outside. Before he and Farnicki returned to the office, they called Miss Moran's nurse and asked to talk to her that same day.