Case of the Poison Powder Chapter 5
Margaret Mitchell Mysteries - The cozy cousin of Carson Crime Files
The Case of the Poison Powder
(Miss Chapter 4? Find it Here) Or start with the first chapter!
Chapter 5
Margaret had visited the Baltimore City Detention Center countless times, but it never got easier. Each visit was a reminder that the justice system ground people down before they ever got their day in court. She surrendered her phone and keys, and followed a corrections officer down a hallway that echoed with distant voices and the rhythmic clang of metal doors.
The officer led her to a small interview room with cinder block walls painted institutional beige, a metal table bolted to the floor, and two chairs that had seen better decades. Within minutes, Sade Jalloh entered, flanked by the officer.
Margaret’s heart clenched. In just a few days, Sade’s beautiful brown skin had been stripped of its natural radiance, taking on the lifeless cast of someone starved of sunlight and sleep. The yellow jumpsuit hung on her frame like she’d already started shrinking into herself. But even here, even now, Sade sat with a perfect posture that came from fifteen years of standing in a warehouse, clipboard in hand, running inventory with military precision. Her hands were folded on the table in a way that reminded Margaret of her father: the careful, deliberate positioning of someone who’d learned that controlling small things helped when big things spun out of control.
“Sade, hon.” Margaret stood, offering a warm smile. “Please, sit down.”
The officer positioned himself outside the door, giving them privacy through the reinforced window.
“I need to stand for a minute, if that’s okay.” Sade smiled apologetically. “I’ve been sitting all day and my back—” She paused, pressing her hand to her lower spine. “I used to walk ten miles a day at the facility. Inventory, safety checks, meeting with drivers. Now I barely move.” She finally sat, but kept shifting slightly, clearly uncomfortable with stillness.
“I brought the character reference letters from my coworkers,” Sade said immediately, sliding a thin manila envelope across the table with the efficiency of someone used to managing logistics. “Tanya, Ramon, and Dennis. I told them exactly what to include: specific incidents, dates, our working relationship. They said they’d be happy to testify if you need them.”
Margaret took the envelope, impressed. Most clients in Sade’s position were too shell-shocked to organize anything. “These are excellent. We’ll definitely use them.”
“They don’t believe I did this.” Sade’s voice caught. “Not for a second. They know me.”
“Of course they do.” Margaret set the letters aside and clicked her pen. “Now, I met with Marty Slye this afternoon. He confirmed the timeline we discussed, but he also said you paid him in cash on December 28th. The prosecution will make something of that. I need to understand why.”
“Olu has access to our joint checking account. I didn’t want him to see a check to a private investigator.” Sade met Margaret’s eyes directly. “The cash came from my personal savings account. The one he doesn’t know about.”
“You have a separate account?”
“After the second affair, yes.” Sade rubbed her bloodshot eyes. “I learned my lesson. I keep some of my own money separate. For emergencies.”
Margaret made a note. Someday she would have a client who didn’t hide something from her. “How much money are we talking about?”
“About $15,000.”
“The prosecution is going to argue Olu’s affair gave you motive. How you were angry about the divorce, wanted to hurt him, or needed money.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Sade’s voice rose. “I make eighty-five thousand a year, plus bonuses. Olu’s a high school history teacher. He makes maybe thirty-eight thousand. If anything, he needs my money.” She pressed her palms flat on the table. “Why would I steal eighteen hundred dollars worth of pesticides when I have fifteen thousand in savings?”
“Exactly.” Margaret leaned forward. “But here’s what concerns me, and what we need to address head-on. The prosecution isn’t just charging you with simple theft. Chlorpyrifos is a restricted-use pesticide. You need to be a certified applicator to even purchase it legally.”
“I know. That’s why we have such strict protocols at the facility. We have to report our inventory to the EPA regularly.”
“Right. It falls under federal reporting requirements as a dangerous chemical.” Margaret tapped her pen against her legal pad. “So the theft charge itself puts you in the range of up to five years in prison and a ten thousand dollar fine. But the ASA could argue for additional charges based on possession of a regulated dangerous substance with intent. They’ll want to know what the thief intended to do with twenty-five kilograms of restricted pesticide.”
“I didn’t take it!” Sade’s hands trembled. “I don’t even know what someone would do with that much chlorpyrifos.”
“That’s actually in our favor.” Margaret softened her tone. “You’re the storage manager. You work with this material every single day. The fact someone stole a relatively low-value, highly regulated substance that triggers federal reporting requirements? It doesn’t fit with someone who has your level of experience.”
Sade nodded slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“Now, I talked to Chris Webb this morning and got copies of the security logs for January 8th.” Margaret flipped to a new page. “Your badge was scanned at 5:15 PM when you clocked out. Then nothing until 11:35 PM at the main entrance, and 11:47 PM at the storage room door.”
“But I was in Wilmington by then.”
“Right. Why were you there so late?”
“Nick Liu sent me. There was an urgent delivery of hydroponic seedlings that got delayed. He needed them by Friday morning.”
Margaret’s pen stilled. “Nick Liu. The R&D director. One of only three people with access to that storage room.”
“Yes, but—” Sade frowned. “You don’t think...”
“I don’t know what to think yet. But it’s an interesting coincidence.” Margaret made a note, circling it twice. “Okay. What about your badge? Who would have access to that?”
“No one, I always keep my badge on me. The police found it in my purse when they...“ Sade bit her lip.
“Okay.” Margaret studied her client. “What can you tell me about Nick Liu?”
“Brilliant. Intense. He works odd hours.” Sade paused. “He designs security systems, works on proprietary formulas, and oversees the experimental compounds. He’s the one who installed our current badge system three years ago. If anyone could bypass the cameras but leave the badge logs intact, it would be him.”
“And the experimental compounds you mentioned, those are more valuable than chlorpyrifos?”
“Much more. Some of them are worth thousands per kilogram. Proprietary pesticide formulas that haven’t been released to market yet.” Sade spread her hands. “That’s what doesn’t make sense about this whole thing. Why steal bulk chlorpyrifos when there are far more valuable targets in the same room?”
“Is there anyone at AgroSynthetics who might want to hurt you? Anyone you’ve had conflicts with?”
Sade thought for a long moment, her brow furrowed. “No. I get along with everyone. I don’t handle purchasing, so I’m not making decisions that affect budgets.” She paused, then shook her head. “I mean, I did mention to Chris Webb a few weeks ago that the cameras in the storage area seemed to be going offline more than usual. But it wasn’t a complaint—just letting him know in case there was a technical issue. He didn’t seem bothered by it.”
Margaret made a note. “When was this?”
“Mid-December, maybe? I noticed the cameras had been glitchy a couple of times when I was doing inventory checks.” Sade shrugged. “He thanked me for the heads-up. That’s it.”
“And there were no other tensions? With Chris or anyone else?”
“None. The only person I can think of who might want me gone is Olu. If I’m in prison, he gets everything in the divorce.”
“We’ll look into your husband very carefully, I promise.” Margaret continued making notes. “I need you to do something for me. Make me a detailed list of everyone who works in shipping and storage. Everyone in R&D who might have reason to access that storage room. Anyone who’s ever asked you questions about security procedures or badge access. Can you do that?”
“Yes. I’ll write everything down tonight and give it to you next visit.” Sade straightened in her chair, looking more focused now that she had a task.
“Good.” Margaret started packing up her briefcase, tucking the character reference letters carefully inside. “Katherine’s investigator is heading to Wilmington tomorrow. If he can find that construction worker and get a statement, we’ll have corroboration for of your timeline.”
“I hope he remembers me.” Sade looked worried. “I didn’t even get his name.”
“Don’t worry about it. Jake Mercer is very good at what he does.”
“Thank you,” Sade whispered. “For making me feel like this isn’t the end of everything.”
“It’s not the end. It’s just a hard chapter.” Margaret squeezed her shoulder. “But we’re going to write a better one. Together.”
She knocked on the door and the officer appeared to escort Sade back to her cell. Margaret watched her client walk away, shoulders a little straighter than when she’d arrived, and felt that familiar determination settle in her chest.
Someone had set up Sade Jalloh. Someone had stolen her badge, framed her for theft, and tried to take away everything she’d spent fifteen years building. Her career, her reputation, her sense of belonging in a place where she’d shown up faithfully every single day.
But Margaret wasn’t going to let that stand.
She signed out at the front desk, reclaimed her phone and keys, and stepped into the cold January afternoon. The detention center loomed behind her, gray and imposing, but she didn’t look back.
She had work to do.
Stay tuned for Chapter 6, next week!
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Margaret Mitchell, her white terrier Spotty, and her gang at the local nursing home tackle Baltimore mysteries with pluck, perception, and palaver.
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