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“I didn’t think Batman went anywhere without Robin,” said the FBI agent sarcastically.
Before Michelle could fire back a response, Williams said, “Well, can’t you call him? He’ll want to know about this.”
“His cell phone was broken during the chase with Roger Canney. He hasn’t replaced it yet.”
“I’m sure he’ll hear about this soon enough,” said Sylvia. “Bad news always travels faster than good.”
“Where’s the husband?”
Williams answered, “With the kids. He was on the road when it happened. He’s a salesman with a high-tech outfit. He said he got a call from his wife’s cell phone a little before one o’clock this morning. The voice said his wife was dead. He tried calling her cell phone back but there was no answer. Then he tried calling the house but the line wasn’t working. We later found the wires had been cut. So he called 911.”
“When did Robinson arrive here?”
“About an hour after my men. He was on his way to Washington for a sales conference.”
“He likes to travel pretty late at night.”
“He said he wanted to put his kids to bed and spend time with his wife before he left,” answered Bailey.
“Any reason to suspect him?” asked Michelle.
“Other than that there was no forced entry, none that we can see,” replied Williams.
“And no one saw anything?” she asked.
“There were only the three kids here. The infant of course can’t help us. The oldest boy—”
A female deputy rushed into the room. “Chief, I just finished interviewing Tommy, the middle child. He said his father was in the house last night when he woke up. He doesn’t know what time it was. He said his father told him he forgot something, to go back to bed.”
At this instant another deputy burst in. “We found something in the plumb pipe in the basement.”
They placed the Baggie taken from the plumb pipe on the dining room table and observed its contents through the clear material.
“St. Christopher’s medal, belly ring, gold anklet, belt buckle and an amethyst ring,” inventoried Williams.
“All the things taken from each of the first five victims,” said Bailey.
Williams immediately turned to one of his deputies. “I want Harold Robinson taken into custody right now.”
CHAPTER
83
KING’S FIRST STOP HAD
been a physician friend of his in Lynchburg who was also a well-respected pathologist. They’d gone over Battle’s autopsy results very carefully. A more detailed report had been prepared by Sylvia, which included the toxicology results and microscopic examination of Battle’s brain tissue.
“From the gross finding of the unusual wrinkling on the thoracic aorta and the microscopic lesions on the brain, I certainly can’t discount it, Sean,” said his learned friend. “Those certainly are telltale signs of the disease.”
“One more question,” said King. “Can it affect the fetus?”
“Do you mean can it cross the placenta? Absolutely.”
King’s next stop was UVAHospital, where he met with a professor in the pharmacology department. This was really what had started it all going in his mind.
He quickly received confirmation of his suspicions.
The professor informed him that “a person who abuses strong narcotics builds up a tolerance to them. Over time the desired effect is diminished, and higher doses of the drugs are required to achieve the desired result.”
