The 13th Juror Read Online Free PDF

change.  Terrell found out she was dating a dentist when Ned — that was husband number one — bought it.  Dating this dentist while they were still married?  Bad form.  Anyway, when Ned died it looked like an overdose — so the coroner ran the A scan, found coke and alcohol and ruled it an accidental overdose."
    Hardy knew the medical examiner ran three levels of tests to scan for poisons in dead people.  Level C  included a lot more controlled substances — barbiturates, methamphetamines — then the check for volatiles — essentially alcohols — that turned up on a Level A scan, but it also cost a lot more to run, and when the apparent cause of death was found at the A level, unless there was an investigator's report indicating foul play, the coroner most often stopped there.
    Hardy knew all this but he had to ask:  "He didn't check for anything else?"
    "Why would he?  They found what they were looking for, coke and booze in an overdose situation… hell, you know.  And Ned had 'em both, so the book got closed.  But guess what?"
    "I can't imagine."  Hardy was feeling numb.
    "Atropine."
    "What?"
    "Atropine.  Jimson weed.  Deadly nightshade."
    "What about it?"
    "Atropine is what killed him.  We exhumed him on Terrell's hunch and there it was."
    "So he OD'd on atropine."
    Powell shook his head.  "You don't just OD on atropine.  Atropine doesn't make you high.  It's not a recreational drug, but Ned was loaded with the stuff."
    "That's not necessarily murder—"
    "I think in connection with these latest two it is."
    "She didn't do these either."
    Powell favored Hardy with one of his world-weary looks, which said okay, that's a defense attorney's answer about his client, but between us two professionals we know the truth.  What he said was:  "Your Mrs. Witt's a black widow, Hardy.  We're going for Murder One on these.  A death sentence.  This is a capital case."

3

    "You can't be serious…"
    The color was gone from Jennifer's face.  She simply hung her head, then after a beat shook herself, stood and walked over to the window in the visitor's room, through which she stared out into the guard's office.  "Ned killed himself, maybe by mistake… But somebody else killed Larry and Matt.  I swear to God… I couldn't have killed my little boy ."
    Hardy noticed she didn't say the same about her husband.  He sat with his shoulders hunched over, fingers locked together on the table in front of him.  "Tell me about Anthony Alvarez," he said.
    She combed her bangs back with her fingers, twice, still facing the window.  "I don't know any Anthony Alvarez…"
    Hardy kept his voice low.  "The police report identifies him as your neighbor, lives across the street."
    Now she turned.  "Mr. Alvarez?  Oh, that's Anthony Alvarez?  I never knew his first name.  What about him?"
    "What about him is that he's a lot of the reason you're here."  Hardy told her the gist of his testimony.  While he talked she returned to the end of the table and sat again, kitty-corner to Hardy.
    "But I didn't do that.  I always start out by walking a couple of blocks to warm up.  I wouldn't have just shut the gate and started out running.  Not only wouldn't have, I didn't ."
    Hardy nodded.  "Why do you think he says it was you?  You have any words with him, anything like that?"
    "I don't believe this."  Jennifer inhaled, shook herself, let it out in a sigh.  "Maybe in four years I've said a hundred words to the man.  I don't think I'd recognize him if he wasn't standing near his house.  Why is he doing this to me?"
    "I don't know," Hardy said, "but for now I think we'd better concentrate on something that could help you.  Was there anybody that might have seen you walking?  Another neighbor?"
    Jennifer shut her eyes, leaning back in her chair, revealing the curve of her body, the plane of her cheek.  Hardy suddenly realized how attractive she was, even in the jail garb.  Pouty lips, a strong nose.  Bones