Dani leaned forward in her seat, eyes riveted to the screen. The director of the crime lab would not routinely provide an update on a murder case, even a high-profile one, and her comment that she’d never seen anything like this before had everyone on high alert.
The director’s timing had worked in Dani’s favor by distracting Wu, who was pressing for details about her proposal to turn Toro. She’d have to answer the SAC’s questions eventually, but she’d have more time to prepare.
“This is Dr. Letitia Gardner,” Johnson said, switching half of the main screen to a secure video link.
A woman in her fifties with salt-and-pepper braids skimming the shoulders of her crisp white lab coat appeared. The closed office door behind her indicated she had sensitive information to report.
“Can I speak freely, SAC Wu?” Dr. Gardner said into the camera.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Everyone here has clearance.”
Local law enforcement personnel detailed to the task force were deputized as JTTF officers and underwent a background check for a top-secret security clearance so they could share classified information with their federal counterparts. Detective Flint had been detailed to the task force in the past, and his clearance was still valid.
“Did you identify what substance killed Mr. Costner?” Wu asked.
“Tetrodotoxin,” Dr. Gardner said. When everyone exchanged glances, she elaborated. “There are several species of animals that make their own poison. The best known is the puffer fish, although the blue-ringed octopus and the rough-skinned newt also have it.” She adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses. “But none of those creatures created this particular dose.”
Dr. Gardner looked grim. “The toxin that killed this victim was synthesized from a rare species of poisonous frog native to the rain forests of Colombia in South America.”
Wu’s dark brows drew together. “A frog?”
“Commonly known as the golden poison frog,” Dr. Gardner said. “It’s also called the golden dart frog because tribal hunters used its secretions to tip their blow darts. Its scientific name is Phyllobates terribilis.”
Johnson’s fingers had been flashing over her keyboard while Dr. Gardner gave her initial statement. An image of a bright-yellow frog materialized on the screen beside the lab director.
“I found some info in one of our databases,” Johnson said when Dr. Gardner paused. “It says the golden poison frog may be the most toxic animal in the world.”
“It can kill a man?” Dani asked, still wrapping her mind around the incongruity of the deadly-but-cute little amphibian. “How?”
“It produces an alkaloid batrachotoxin in the glands of its skin that acts like a nerve agent,” Dr. Gardner explained. “Each frog carries roughly one milligram of toxin, which is enough to kill two full-grown rhinos.” She paused to let the information sink in. “Or up to twenty humans.”
Dani considered an umbrella with a concealed needle as a delivery mechanism. “Then an intramuscular injection could have transmitted a dose similar to a blow dart.”
Dr. Gardner nodded. “This poison was synthesized and carefully preserved. Whoever did it had access to lab equipment and knew what they were doing.”
“Who sells these frogs?” Wu asked. “Is there a local distributor here in the city?”
“I checked,” Dr. Gardner said. “They’re endangered. It’s illegal to import them.” She raised a finger. “But here’s the critical point. They won’t make the poison if they aren’t in their natural habitat.”
“Can you elaborate?” Wu said.
“If you take a golden poison frog and keep it in a terrarium, it will soon become harmless,” Dr. Gardner said. “From what biologists can determine, the animal’s internal system metabolizes the toxin from its diet, which consists of a wide variety of insect species native to the rain forest.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s something that can’t be replicated in a lab or mass produced.”
“So this toxin came directly from Colombia?” Wu said, then drew the next logical conclusion. “There’s a South American connection somewhere.”
“Without a doubt,” she responded. “This species is only found there, and the animal had to be in the rain forest to produce the poison.”
Wu tensed. “Who knows about this?”
“Just me and the forensic analyst who examined the victim’s blood sample,” Dr. Gardner said.
“Word is bound to leak,” Wu said. “But I’d like to delay the inevitable as long as possible. I’ll have to brief everyone up the chain all the way to the top. The case has gone international.”
Dani agreed. A staffer working for a high-ranking elected official had been assassinated with an exotic poison that could have come only from overseas. There had to be a lot more going on than anyone had bargained for.
She waited until the lab director signed off before addressing Johnson. “When you ran Gustavo Toro, did you find any connection with Colombia?”
The analyst was already bringing up the digital dossier she had prepared on Toro. An instant later, the file appeared on the main screen.
“His passport shows no travel to Colombia,” Johnson said. “At least, not under his real name.”
“We’re lacking key information,” Flint said. “We can’t tell who he’s been associated with.”
Wu turned to Johnson. “Do a deep dive on any police interactions in his background, even noncriminal ones.” He hesitated. “Don’t contact Interpol to request a worldwide criminal history report yet.” His gaze flicked to Dani. “I’m liking your idea about capturing Toro and turning him more than ever,” he said. “But I’ll have to call the US Attorney’s Office and run it through the Bureau’s hierarchy to get buy-in before we can offer him a deal.”
His comment spoke volumes about where the case now stood. The United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York would be directly involved in any federal prosecution and would therefore need to be in on the ground floor for any discussions of plea deals or conditional immunity. His last remark also meant that Wu was preparing to get in front of the NYPD. The implications of the new evidence made the move logical to her, but she didn’t know how Flint would take it.
The detective had opened his mouth to speak when Johnson cut in. “We have an urgent request from the security personnel at the front door,” she said. “I’m putting the supervisor on-screen.”
Without waiting for acknowledgment, she tapped the controls, and a section of the main screen showed a uniformed FBI police sergeant Dani recognized from the screening she had undergone entering 26 Fed earlier.
“We have a situation,” the sergeant said without preamble. “You need to send an agent down to the front desk area immediately.”
“What’s the nature of the problem?” Wu asked.
“Someone is here claiming to be a friend of the man who was killed this morning,” the sergeant responded. “You know, the senator’s chief of staff?”
Wu straightened in his chair. “What does this person want?”
“He’s got an envelope,” the sergeant said. “Told us his friend instructed him to bring it straight to the FBI if anything happened to him. We screened him and opened the envelope per protocol. There’s a note inside, but it looks like some sort of coded message. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”
Wu’s gaze shifted to her. “Agent Vega will be down immediately.”
CHAPTER 7
Dani’s foot tapped the elevator’s polished floor as she rode down to the building’s lobby. Finally in her element, she was anxious to make headway on a case that grew stranger at every turn.