by Malcolm Rose
Peter smiled. “Good question. It sounds impossible, doesn’t it? But it isn’t. We’ve invented a mimic needle. You put a sheath on the patient’s skin and feed the needle down it so they think it’s real, but it isn’t. It’s too blunt to pierce skin, but it feels like it does. Very realistic. It’s all in the design of the tip. Because of the sheath, patients can’t see it hasn’t gone in.”
That, thought Luke, explained why Romilly believed Julian had had acupuncture but the pathologist didn’t find any sign of it.
Later, when Luke was sitting in the tiny spare bedroom on his own with the lamp off, the door began to open silently. Before anyone could enter, Malc flung himself in front of Luke, his laser primed.
Framed in light from the hall, Elisa appeared in the doorway, holding a box in both hands as if it were precious. “Luke?”
“Yes?” Talking to his mobile, Luke said, “Relax, Malc.”
“Your father’s drunk himself to sleep. Again. Still punishing himself, punishing us both. Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Elisa switched on the lamp. “I want to share something with you.” She placed the container on the bed and carefully removed the lid. “It’s a memory box.”
Luke blinked repeatedly in the sudden brightness. “A what?”
“Kerryanne’s memory box. Look.” She removed a soft woollen toy in the shape of a dolphin. “Her favourite. She used to sleep with it.” Elisa lifted the toy to her nose and breathed in. “Sometimes, I think I can still smell her.” She put the dolphin on the blanket. “I don’t suppose you remember.” She took a clear plastic envelope between her forefinger and thumb. “A lock of her hair. Part of what fell out.”
It was like an evidence bag. Of course, it was an evidence bag in a way. It was evidence that Kerryanne had lived.
There was a hairbrush, a magnifying glass and her favourite dress. Elisa held up the green garment and whispered, “So small.”
“Sorry, Mother.”
Lovingly, Elisa folded the dress and replaced it in the box. “And this.” She held up an old memory stick. “Photographs. Can your machine take a copy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want them?”
“I don’t know,” Luke replied. “Yes. I think so.” He turned to Malc and said, “Download them, please.”
“It is obsolete technology but I can connect remotely and convert the data to a modern format.”
“Okay,” Luke said. “Do it.”
Elisa put her hand on her son’s knee. “When I think of her, I think of a planet that used to orbit between Mars and Jupiter. A long time ago, gravity changes nudged it off course. No one knows exactly what happened to it. It could’ve flown out of the solar system or it might’ve hurtled into the sun. It’s either still out there, all alone on an infinite journey in empty space, or it’s burnt up.”
Sitting beside his mother, Luke felt like a child again, not a sixteen-year-old professional. He put an arm lightly around her shoulders. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
She ignored his comment. “You don’t get headaches, do you?”
She looked so fearful that Luke lied again. “No.” To distract his mother, he said, “Now I want to show you something.” He turned to his mobile. “Malc, project the usual image onto the ceiling, please.”
Luke watched his mother’s face as she looked up at the artificial night sky that always entranced him as he went to sleep. Her lips curved into a faint smile and she nodded. But his tactic failed to distract her from Kerryanne.
“That’s something else I think about,” she said, still surveying the ceiling. “The sun’s got a sibling. Did you know? It’s called HD98618 – not the prettiest name, is it? Twenty-six thousand light years away from the centre of the Milky Way and just like our sun. It’s got the same elements and it’s only one per cent hotter, making it five hundred million years younger than our sun. That’s almost nothing in astronomy. It’s so similar, it could have planets like the Earth. Our sun – sun with a ‘u’, I mean – keeps us alive but its sister’s so far away we can’t even find out if it supports life.” She twisted her neck to look into Luke’s face. “Don’t mind me. I’m just a silly emotional astronomer.”
“What was Kerryanne like?”
Elisa tapped the magnifying glass and said, “Just like you. Curious about everything. Another little star.” She paused before adding, “She was this dazzling creature, trapped inside a broken body. It hid the real Kerryanne. She was brave and cheerful and tough. You know, she refused to wear the wig we thought would look nice. She wanted to face the world exactly as she was. She was right. Thinking back, we probably pushed the wig at her to make us feel more comfortable when we looked at her. It wasn’t really for her benefit, even though we told her it was.” Elisa took a deep breath. “I watched a lot of sport – sprinters, weight-lifters, rowers, the lot – and not one of them could match Kerryanne’s strength.”
Elisa looked up again as if she were trying to pick out the star named HD98618.
Chapter Seven
Sharing a cab to York Hospital in the morning, Luke and Peter talked about music, sport, news, computers, telescreen programmes, even the weather. Anything as long as it wasn’t murder. Nearing York, the corridor ran alongside the busy canal. The waterway was choked with auto-barges bringing goods to the heart of the city. Narrow boats going in the other direction would be carrying shipments of York’s renowned chocolate, glass and sophisticated fireworks.
About to go their separate ways at the hospital terminus, Luke and Peter both knew they couldn’t put it off any longer. Peter gazed into his son’s face and asked, “Am I a murder suspect?”
Feeling embarrassed, Luke said, “Malc. You answer that, please.”
The mobile replied, “You have not yet proved that any of the excess fatalities at York Hospital were the result of murder. However, if there are cases of unlawful killing, Dr Sachs has the medical knowledge and opportunity required to commit such crimes because he works at the hospital. Also, he has a motive because casualties among his control group appear to improve the results of his unconventional treatments.”
Knowing that he would fail, Luke tried to defend his father against Malc’s ruthless reasoning. “It’s totally against the doctors’ code of conduct. ‘Do no harm’ is their first rule. So, is it likely that a doctor would kill?”
“Unknown. However, you should consider the possibility that the death of the suspect’s daughter disturbed the balance of his mind. In addition, there are several precedents. In Manchester...”
“All right,” Luke said to silence his mobile. Then he turned to his father. “Sorry.”
Peter smiled wryly and scratched his itchy scalp. “I can’t fault the logic.”
Luke tried to lighten the mood. “You’re not the only one to get on his wrong side. He told me I was the main suspect in my first case. Came close to asking me to arrest myself. He’s good at logic, hopeless at common sense.”
Resigned to being a suspect, Peter nodded. “I guess you might need to talk to me again as an FI. But you’ll come back and see us socially, won’t you? We won’t have to wait till one of us goes on another crime spree, will we?”
Luke glanced at Malc and said, “That was sarcasm, not a confession.” Turning back to his father, Luke shook his head. “Can’t be too careful with Malc. But, no. I’d like that. Maybe I could bring Jade...”
“Good idea. It’d be nice to get to know her.”
Peter shook Luke’s hand awkwardly and then headed for the Department of Alternative Medicine. Luke was called to Accidents and Emergency.
****
A lifeless four-year-old girl had just been brought into the hospital and she had failed to respond to resuscitation. She’d been pronounced dead only minutes before Luke reached her room.
Outside it, two nurses were holding back the girl’s distraught mother. She was sobbing and shouting in turns. “She’s my daughter! I’ve got to see her. You can’t...�
��
The ward supervisor tried to talk calmly to her. “I’m sorry but we’ve got an emergency procedure...”
“Procedure!”
Luke hesitated by the door, touched by the woman’s distress.
“Why’s he going in?” she shouted accusingly, yanking her arms in an attempt to break free of the nurses. “He doesn’t even know Alexia.”
“That’s the procedure I was telling you about,” the harassed supervisor said, trying to reason with her. “At the moment, an investigator’s got to be first to see any patients who’ve passed away.”
The girl’s mother stared at Luke and swore at the top of her voice.
For a moment, Luke imagined his own mother, distraught at Kerryanne’s death. “It’s all right,” he said to the ward supervisor. “She can go in. I’ll wait.”
At once, Malc objected. “That is against The Authorities’ instructions. You are required to attend each scene at the earliest opportunity, before it is contaminated.”
“I am also required to be human, Malc. I’m letting her go in. End of argument.” He looked at the mother and said, “I’m sorry. You go and do what you have to. But my mobile will come in with you. He’ll stay well back, out of your way. He won’t say anything. Okay?”
Her face seemed to be dissolving in grief. “Just let me in!” she cried.
Luke nodded towards the nurses.
As soon as the door closed behind the grieving mother and Malc, the ward supervisor said, “That was a nice gesture but...”
“What?” asked Luke.
“It might’ve been a mistake. We know all about Wendy Ridge. This time it looks like she’s gone too far.”
Luke frowned. “How do you mean?”
Lowering her voice, the ward supervisor said, “Have you heard of Munchausen’s Syndrome by Proxy? We’re not sure, but Wendy’s doctor reckons she’s got it. It started when she brought Alexia in for no reason. Over and over again. She made symptoms up just to get the girl hospital attention. Then it got more... sinister. Alexia did get ill, but her mother was probably causing it.”
“Why?”
The ward supervisor shrugged. “It’s typical of MSBP.”
Luke took a guess. “Was she making Alexia too sick to send to school? She’s nearly five, isn’t she?”
The ward supervisor looked surprised and impressed by Luke’s quick-witted suggestion. “That fits the Munchausen’s profile: possessive, wanting to look after the girl for ever. Making her ill would be a way of doing it, I suppose.”
“Any idea what killed her?”
She shook her head. “A heart attack. It’ll be up to the pathologist to find out what brought it on. She was unconscious and dehydrated when she came in, and her blood pressure was sky-high.”
Luke sighed and glanced at the door to the treatment room. “I’m still not intruding. Even if it’s Wendy’s fault – especially if it’s her fault – she’s going to be devastated. She needs some time alone.”
“Almost alone,” the ward supervisor replied.
Luke nodded. “Yes. Just a precaution. My mobile will record everything.” He paused and then asked, “Could you make a note in your records of everyone who went in to try and save Alexia? While it’s fresh in your mind.”
“No problem. I’ll do it now.”
“Thanks. I’ll wait for a bit before I disturb her mother.”
“It’s up to you, but I’m not sure it’s the best time to question her.”
“I’m not going to. Not now. I just need to check the room out – and the body.” Making sure that he was covering all angles, Luke added, “Can I use your computer? I want to request an agent to take Wendy home when she’s ready.”
“Another nice gesture?”
Luke smiled. “Not that nice. More a way of making sure a suspect doesn’t run away.”
****
It was tragic. Alexia Ridge was lying in a hospital bed and her feet reached only half way down its length. She was too thin for her height, probably a sign of ill health. Yet her long hair was beautifully groomed and arranged. Malc had told Luke that Wendy had spent a lot of time talking in private to her unhearing daughter and, at the same time, brushing her hair obsessively. Luke could not help recalling that his own mother had kept Kerryanne’s hairbrush.
“The staff think Wendy made her ill because she’s got Munchausen’s Syndrome by Proxy. Did she say anything incriminating?”
Malc ran through his recording at maximum speed and then replied, “She did not make an unambiguous confession, but she said sorry nineteen times.”
“Mmm. If Wendy made her ill,” Luke said softly, “the question is, did her illness kill her or was that down to something that happened here? Compare the names of the staff who looked after Julian Bent with the ones who tried to revive Alexia. Does anyone crop up on both lists?”
A few seconds later, Malc answered, “There are no matching personnel.”
Luke stopped at the end of the bed and shook his head at the sad sight of Alexia. “Can you take a blood sample?”
“Yes. However, the pathologist will complete a full post-mortem in due course.”
“If her mother fed her something, I want to see if you can spot it straightaway.”
Malc manoeuvred himself over the small body. “Processing.” He perched lightly on the girl’s arm and directed a fine needle into the soft skin by her elbow. “Sample taken. Analysis in progress.”
Luke walked round to the top of the bed. “There are tiny droplets on her forehead and neck.”
“It is likely to be sweat, brought on by stress.”
“Analyse that as well, please.”
“Task logged. However, you should note that water will have been evaporating from the droplets for an unknown amount of time. Therefore, the concentration of substances will now be artificially high. Any such measurement will be unreliable and inadmissible.”
“I want you to scan the whole room as well,” said Luke, “and compare the results with what you found in Julian Bent’s.”
“I conducted a scan earlier, while the deceased’s mother was here. I will now compare the two sets of findings.”
“Is there any sign of heather in here? I haven’t seen any.”
“Your observation is correct.” Malc was silent for a minute and then announced, “There are no clear matches between traces detected in Julian Bent’s room and those found in here. For example, there are no common hairs or fingerprints. Comparison of other biological samples – mainly flakes of skin – is not possible without DNA analysis.”
“It might come to that.”
“Performing DNA tests on all individual fragments would occupy my systems for a minimum of three continuous days.”
“It’s a job for the central lab, then.”
Malc asked, “Do you wish me to request the resources?”
Luke nodded. “Mmm. Why not?”
“Because you have not yet established any crime, because the analysis will be very time-consuming, and because it will require an unwarranted number of technicians and instruments.”
Suppressing a groan, Luke replied, “Put the request in anyway. It might turn something up – and it might help me to find out if there’s a serial killer around here. That’s worth the effort.”
“Transmitting,” Malc said. “I am continuing tests on Alexia Ridge’s blood but I already have one significant result. It contains an excessive and lethal amount of sodium. Its concentration is nine point four times greater than the naturally occurring level.”
“How could that have happened?” asked Luke.
“Sodium is essential for life and by far the main source is salt: sodium chloride. The kidneys regulate its concentration in the body. In healthy individuals, salt cannot rise naturally to such dangerous concentrations. It is ejected in sweat and urine. Therefore, poisoning is the probable cause.”
“What’s the effect of too much salt?”
“Hypernatremia causes dizziness, vomiting, diarr
hoea and high blood pressure. Very high doses can trigger unconsciousness, stroke, heart attack and death.”
“Are there any medical conditions that set it off?”
“There is a very rare disease called salt diabetes. It has never been reported in a child.”
Luke took a breath and gazed down at Alexia. “So, she was poisoned with salt.”
“Unproven but likely.”
“What about these beads of sweat?”
“A person with hypernatremia would sweat profusely. These drops are very nearly saturated with sodium chloride. That is the result of evaporation but excretion of salt is consistent with the proposed cause of death.”
“Did Julian Bent show any sign of salt poisoning?”
“No.”
“Was the salt level in his saline drip normal?”
“Yes.”
Struck by a thought, Luke looked across at Malc. “You’d better find out if Wendy Ridge has got another child. If she has, the agent keeping her under surveillance needs to go in and check what’s going on. If she’s got Munchausen’s, I don’t want this to happen again.”
After thirty seconds, Malc said, “The suspect has a three-year-old son.”
“Well, if this is all about keeping her children instead of sending them to school, he’s safe for a year or so. But if she just wants her kids to rely on her all the time, he’s in danger.”
“What is your recommendation to The Authorities?”
“Send the agent in. And check if she’s making the boy sick with too much salt. If she is, he needs help – and so does she.”
Chapter Eight
The office where Tara Fortune worked was not like a doctor’s. In particular, there were no patients and no medical equipment. It was little more than a cupboard with a computer. When Luke held out his identity card towards her, Tara saved the data that she was handling, pushed aside a plate of biscuits and turned towards him with a quizzical expression. Barely older than Luke, she was very attractive with startlingly dark eyes. Her hair was so short that her head could have been shaved. “What can I do for you?” she asked with a wary smile.