A Twisted Web - Benoit Blanc

Thirteen - The Truth

Now all eyes were on Ransom, who repeated the question, "Why did I  hire you?"

"Yes. Let's back it up, to the night of the party... Your argument with Harlan. What were the overheard words by the Nazi child masturbating in the bathroom? Ms. Drysdale-" He pointed to her again, once again catching her off guard.

"Um, 'My Will', and 'I'm warning you'."

"Exactly. You and Harlan were drama mamas, you shared a love of twisting the knife into one another. And you see, I don't believe he would have slipped it in halfway, no. I submit Harlan told you everything. Marta, remind me what Ransom said his conversation with Harlan ended with?"

"Harlan told him that  I could beat him at Go."

"And I asked myself, 'How did the topic of conversation get steered to Marta?' There's only one obvious explanation - he told you everything."

"That's some heavy-duty conjecture," cut-in Ransom. 

"Granted.  But it is the only way what comes next makes sense: you storm out, driving off into the night. You tell Marta later that, what was it? Feeling an overwhelming sense of-"

"Clarity," finished Marta. "That he had to make do for himself from here on out."

"Exactly. Harlan. Marta. The will. And a plan forms. A truly wicked plan..."

Blanc continued, launching into how Ransom returned that night, being sure to avoid the security cameras. How he snuck up the trellis to the top where Harlan's study was, all while the family were still partying downstairs - "What you need to do will take moments, but it is essential that you are alone and undetected" - how Ransom proceeded to switch the medication bottles, taking the antidote just to be sure. 

"You know that if Marta is held responsible for Harlan's death - even unintentionally - the slayer rule would nullify the changed will and you would get your share back."

"No, no, no, that's impossible," cried Marta, voicing Flora's very thoughts. Casting a glance at her brother she found his expression unreadable, as usual. 

"But it is the truth," Blanc insisted. 

"If the meds were switched, then when I got them mixed up, I - I accidentally switched them back. So that means I gave Harlan-" 

 "The correct doses," Blanc finished with a nod. "Yes. But not accidentally. The vials are the same, but the liquids inside are different. How did you know it was morphine?"

"I just knew."

"You knew because there is the slightest, almost imperceptible differences of tincture and viscosity between the two liquids. You knew because you've done it a hundred times before. You gave him the correct medication because you are a good nurse."

"Then Harlan was-"

"I'm sorry Marta, but yes.  Harlan was perfectly fine. His blood was normal. The cause of death was truly, solely suicide, and you are guilty of nothing but some damage to the trellis and a few amateur theatrics. If Harlan had listened to you and called the ambulance, he would be alive today."

"Oh my God..." Flora choked. 

"Damn," muttered Elliot. 

"A twisted web... And we are not finished untangling it. Not yet." 

"There's more?" sighed Flora.

"Oh yes indeed there is, Ms. Drysdale. There is." Blanc turned back to Marta  and launched in again. "Marta, when Greatnana saw you climbing down the trellis, she said, 'back again already?' Back agian..."