screen?â
âWeâll tell him to test for it,â Horowitz said.
âYou think Ken was selling this stuff?â I asked.
He shrugged. âWhy else bring a big bag of it with him from Baltimore? One bottle would be enough to take care of his personal needs and that of a few friends for a weekend.â
âSo are you saying this ketamine is your motive for murder?â I asked.
âIâm saying no such thing,â said Horowitz. âWe already got a perfectly fine suspect with many good motives.â
âYou donât really think Sharon did this,â I said.
âSure I do,â he said. âSheâs the spouse.â
âNo, you donât.â I snapped my fingers. âShit. I meant to tell you. After I called you, when Sharon and I were waiting in the corridor for the troops to get here, this guy came around the corner, took one look at us standing there, and turned and started running. I went after him, but I couldnât catch him.â
âYou being old and out of shape.â
I nodded. âI thought the guy was acting guilty, turning and running like that.â
âNow you tell me.â
âSorry,â I said. âIt slipped my mind.â
âYeah,â Horowitz said. âIn all the excitement.â
âI said I was sorry.â
âOne of your animal doctorâs customers, maybe,â said Horowitz, âlooking to buy himself some Special K. That what you think?â
I shrugged. âCould be, huh?â
âCould you ID this guy?â
I shook my head. âHe was wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood over his head. His face was in shadow. I didnât get much of a look at it. I had the impression he was white, male, and young. Late teens, early twenties. A smallish guy, kind of skinny, five-eight or -nine, maybe one forty. Like I said, I didnât really get a look at his face. I could pick his sweatshirt out of a lineup, maybe, but not him. He could run fast, I can testify to that. Wearing baggy blue jeans and white sneakers.â
âHe ran fast,â Horowitz said, âand you ran slow.â
âIâve lost a step in the past few years.â
âI wish youâd mentioned this earlier.â
âI said I was sorry,â I said.
Horowitz went over and spoke to Marcia Benetti, who was conferring with the ME beside Kenâs body. When he finished, she nodded, said something to the medical examiner, and left the room.
Horowitz came back. âWeâll get some people looking,â he said, âbut Iâm not holding my breath. Iâd be shocked if your friend in the hoodie isnât long gone by now. Too bad.â He jerked his head toward the door. âYou got anything else I should know?â
âI told you I had a drink with Ken last night,â I said. âWhile I was there, he had an encounter with a guy.â
âWhat kind of encounter?â
âI didnât hear what they were saying,â I said. âI thought at the time that they mustâve been friends, but reading their body language, there mightâve been some anger going on between them. This other guy pointed his finger at Ken like his hand was a gun.â
âCould you identify this guy?â
I nodded. âSure. I got a good look at him. He was fiftyish, dark, neatly trimmed beard with some gray in it, big forehead, balding on top. Wearing a suit and tie. I assume he was another vet.â
âYou didnât get a name, did you?â
I thought for a minute, then said, âClem. Ken called him Clem.â
âClem what?â
âI donât know.â
âFirst name? Last name?â
I shrugged.
âWe can check the registration,â he said, âsee if thereâs a vet named Clem in attendance. Mr. Nichols didnât say what they were angry about, huh?â
âI didnât ask, he didnât say. Iâm not sure it was anger. He did
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