by DS Butler
On the screen, a magnified image of the note appeared so everyone in the room could read it, even if they were at the back.
“So far, we know John Weston has had altercations with animal rights groups in the past and this will form an important part of our enquiry, but it is not our only focus.
“Currently, both Sally Turner and John Weston are in a serious, but stable condition. They have been sedated so they can be treated effectively. At the present time, we do not know what toxin they have been exposed to. Medics treating Weston and Turner are investigating and running extensive tests, as are our own police laboratories. Samples have also been submitted to the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew, at the toxicologist’s request.”
Charlotte raised her hand.
Brookbank frowned. “DC Brown has been liaising with the hospital and the HPA, and she can give us an update shortly. That is item four on the agenda.”
Charlotte lowered her hand.
DCI Brookbank rubbed his hands together. “Okay, now we can review findings so far. DC Leonard, you’ve been looking into Weston’s family background. Can you update us please?”
Leonard shifted around slightly in his chair so that he faced the assembled group. He unfolded a printed sheet and held it some distance from his eyes to read from it, which made Mackinnon suspect he needed glasses.
“I don’t have much yet. So far, I have managed to track down Weston’s ex-wife, who lives in New Zealand and has not returned to the UK at anytime in the last five years. They have been divorced for seven years, and their only child, Josh Weston, died eighteen months ago, in an RTA.”
“No other surviving relations? Parents still alive? Siblings?”
“No, sir. Both parents are dead and he has no brothers or sisters.”
“Okay, we need to dig deeper. Check out his friends, neighbours, anyone who knew this man well.”
DC Leonard nodded, folded his sheet of paper in half and stuffed into a pocket in the inside of his suit jacket.
Brookbank consulted his agenda again. “DC Webb, you’ve been working with the HOLMES analyst?”
DC Webb sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Yes sir, we’re just getting started with entering the events and details so far. I’ve also been speaking to the team running Project Griffin. They have information on various terrorist groups, including known animal rights extremists.”
DCI Brookbank nodded. “Good, but I don’t want us missing any potential leads by following this at the expense of others. We need every angle thoroughly investigated. This case will be solved with methodical police work. At this stage, it looks very likely that an animal rights group could be involved, but we can’t jump ahead of ourselves.”
“Now, DC Brown, you have been liaising with the medical staff and the Health Protection Agency?”
Charlotte glanced up. “Yes, I have. As you mentioned, sir, both Weston and Turner are currently stable, but the doctors tell me Weston’s condition is very serious. The poison’s affected his heart. The toxicologist believes he may have seen a similar poisoning case a year ago, with a poison known as...” Charlotte looked down at her notes. “...known as aconite. He says he can’t be positive yet, but it is high on his list of potential poisons.”
“The HPA are aware of this possibility?”
“Yes, sir, they are, and their recommendation at the moment is that Mason House remains closed, at least for today. Once they have ruled out poisonous gases, or other toxins like cyanide, the building can reopen.”
Charlotte glanced down at her notes. “Blood’s been taken from John Weston and Sally Turner for toxicology screens. We might get lucky and get a hit from that by tomorrow morning. Samples of everything, edible or not, have been taken from Weston’s office. The Health Protection Agency representatives are attending the gold meeting today with the superintendent. They will advise if there is a risk to the general public, but so far, it looks to be contained.”
DCI Brookbank rubbed his hands together again and smiled at Charlotte. “Thank you, DC Brown. I’d like you to find out what you can about potential sources of aconite. Let’s move on to resourcing next. As you all may have gathered, we have a couple of new additions to the team, to help us with this case.” He nodded to Mackinnon. “DS Jack Mackinnon.” The DCI scoured the room for a moment before his gaze fell on a young man sitting near the front. “And DS White.”
“DS Mackinnon, I’d like you to assist DC Brown and follow up on the toxin identification, and please keep in touch with the toxicologists and the HPA on this. And, DC Brown, as you know DC Collins is stationed at the hospital. If Sally Turner should regain consciousness, I’ve asked Collins to call you. I’d like you to be present at her interview.”
Before Mackinnon or Charlotte could agree, DCI Brookbank turned back to the front of the room. “DS White, if you could work with DC Leonard and supervise the officers sorting through the CCTV. We need to find out who entered that building before Weston and Turner fell ill.”
For the rest of the briefing, Brookbank assigned further tasks to the rest of the team. He allocated officers to question the car park attendant, to research Weston’s background and business dealings and to organize a search of Weston’s properties as soon as they were given the all clear by the Fire Service.
Mackinnon was glad he wouldn’t be one of the officers knocking on doors and questioning all the people that worked in Mason House. And he was very glad he didn’t get lumbered with the CCTV job.
Essential it might be, but it was bloody boring.
14
Ruby Wei groaned at the incessant ringing of her mobile. She was in no state to meet the day yet, but whoever was calling, wasn’t giving up.
She stumbled out of bed with a dangerous lurching feeling in her stomach and looked for the source of the head-splitting ringing.
Her bag and the clothes from the night before were scattered on the floor. She sat on the carpet and reached into her bag, fumbling for her phone, which stopped ringing as soon as her fingers closed around it. She groaned in frustration and tried to focus on the front of the flip phone. She selected the missed calls list so she could see which idiot kept calling.
It was the lab’s number. The phone began to ring again.
“Hello?”
“Where have you been, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages!”
Ruby thought it was too early for Alex’s voice to be so full of energy, but then she checked her watch and realised it was already mid-morning.
“Alex, I’m sick, I can’t come in. Can you tell Professor Clarkson?”
“Yeah, yeah sure, but did you know our lab got broken into on Friday night?”
“Our lab?”
“Yeah, apparently it happened late on Friday night. Didn’t you go into the lab over the weekend?”
“No, I told you I’ve not been well.” Ruby pulled a face, glad that Alex couldn’t see her.
She had been in an awful mood this weekend, after discovering the experiment had failed again, and decided to spend the whole weekend away from the lab and her work. She needed the break. She had spent Sunday in London with some of the other members of the Oxford University Chinese Society.
The trip took her mind off things for a while, but on Monday, she didn’t feel like facing work and stayed home, feeling sorry for herself, which led to a few glasses of red wine. One glass led to another, and before she knew it, the bottle was empty. That was the real reason she was still in bed at ten am on a Tuesday. Ruby did not handle alcohol well.
“Well, you better have a doctor’s note for today. Otherwise, everyone will think you’re just trying to get out of the presentations.”
Alex hung up before Ruby could reply. She couldn’t believe it. She had completely forgotten about the presentation she had to give this afternoon.
She glanced back at her scrunched up bed longingly, but decided she had better get up and go into the lab. She headed across the hall, hoping a soak in the bath would help.
/> After she poured a small amount of bubble bath into the tub and the fresh soapy smell began to wake her up, she started to worry about her work. How on earth could she have forgotten about her talk for the symposium? Today was the only chance they would get for a proper practice session. She needed to refocus and remember what was important. The experiments hadn’t worked out last week, but she could repeat them. She just needed to work harder, focus on the details, and then everything would be fine.
Easing her body slowly into the hot water, she felt the heat relax her muscles and sank down into the bath. She sat like that for a few minutes, hardly moving, before dunking her head under the water and smearing on a dollop of shampoo.
It was then that the phone rang again.
“Ugh,” she groaned, dunking her head again, trying to get rid of most of the shampoo suds, before wrapping herself in a towel and running for the phone.
This time the caller was Linda Gilmore from the administration section of the chemistry department.
“Hello, Ruby? How are you, dear?”
“I’m very well, thank you, Mrs. Gilmore,” Ruby lied, rubbing her aching head.
She knew Mrs Gilmore well, as she processed all the forms for new chemical orders in the chemistry department. Whenever any of the students or research assistants needed to order chemicals, they went to her; and she also acted as assistant to the chairman, Sir Jim, in an informal role.
Ruby had also visited the Gilmore’s house for dinner many times, when she was dating Mrs. Gilmore’s son, Gus, who was a student in the same lab as Ruby.
For the most part, Gus tended to avoid advertising the fact his mother worked in the department.
“A young man from the Daily News newspaper has been trying to get in touch with you. He mentioned a science writing competition?”
Linda paused, but Ruby couldn’t think of any competitions she’d entered recently.
“His name is Sean Barrett and he left a contact number. Do you have a pen handy, dear?”
Ruby looked around the room for her Filofax, spotted it on her dressing table and scooped it up with one hand.
Linda read her the number and Ruby scribbled it down on a blank page at the back of the diary section. She thanked Linda before hanging up. She would phone the journalist, but first she needed coffee and some paracetamol to get rid of this headache.
After pulling on jeans and a t-shirt, she towel-dried her hair and brushed it back from her face. She checked the time and knew she was too late to make a fresh pot of coffee if she wanted to catch the next bus. She would have to pick one up on the way to the bus stop.
Ruby loved living in Woodstock. All the pretty tearooms, art galleries and antique shops appealed to her, and she liked to be away from the bustle of Oxford. Plus, she had Blenheim Palace on her doorstep. She had never been inside the actual palace, but she loved walking around the grounds and the lake.
She got her much needed coffee from the small deli opposite the bus stop. No one else was waiting at the bus stop outside the Duke of Marlborough Inn, and she started to regret not drying her hair properly on this cold, spring morning.
She decided to phone the guy at the paper back while she was waiting, as the bus would probably be late as usual.
It was a mobile number and a man’s voice snapped, “Hello,” after the second ring.
“This is Ruby Wei. You called me a little while ago.”
“Ruby, good of you to phone me back. I tried to get in touch yesterday. I’m a science correspondent for the Daily News newspaper. You entered our science writers’ competition a few months ago, and I thought your story deserved a follow up. With your cooperation, I would like to write an article about your research.”
“Um, I’ll have to check with my boss first, to make sure it is okay by him,” Ruby said, as a double-decker number twenty Stagecoach bus rolled around the corner of the main high street.
Ruby stuck her hand out to signal the driver. The brakes squealed under the effort of stopping. The doors clapped open and Ruby clambered on board, digging for pound coins in her purse.
“I’m actually on a bit of a deadline. I was hoping we might be able to meet today,” said Sean.
He was answered by silence as Ruby paid the bus driver.
A few moments later, Ruby replied. “Sorry. I was just getting on the bus. I’m not sure today’s a good idea, maybe tomorrow.”
“The thing is, if it is not today, we won’t be able to run it for months. What if we just meet up at lunchtime? We can be really quick?”
Ruby wasn’t sure if it was the hangover that lowered her resistance or the persuasive Irish lilt in the journalist’s voice.
They arranged to meet in an hour at the Turf Tavern. Ruby insisted they meet away from the lab. She didn’t want the hassle of having to answer his questions about the break-in.
After she hung up, Ruby sat looking out of the window, worrying about the damage she would find when she got to the lab.
15
Charlotte replaced the handset of the phone on her desk and sighed. She had just finished talking to an officer who worked on the aconite poisoning case last year. One person had died and the other eventually recovered after a long period in hospital. She wondered if John Weston and Sally Turner would recover.
In the previous case, a woman used aconite for revenge against her ex-lover and his new fiancée; but this case was different. If an animal rights extremist group were responsible, they could go on to target any number of scientists. Why would they stop at two victims?
She rubbed her eyes. All this research might be for nothing.They didn’t even know if the toxin was aconite yet.
Technically, she was not allowed to do overtime. Doctors orders after all that had happened, but she was anxious to find something in the piles of information she had accumulated on aconite. Something that might help the investigation.
Her mobile rang and vibrated, bouncing across her desk. She picked it up and looked at the caller ID on the screen. The caller had withheld their number. Again.
She answered the call.
No reply.
There was only a quiet hiss on the line and perhaps the faintest sound of breathing. She waited for a few seconds before hanging up and went back to her reading.
Charlotte focused on a paragraph detailing the symptoms caused by aconite poisoning. She read how the poison was quick to take effect. If ingested, the first symptoms would include tingling sensations in the mouth, followed by numbness and considerable pain.
The lucky few who recovered after ingesting the poison described how their skin felt like it was stripped to the bone.
For the others who weren’t so lucky, the pain and seizures continued until the poison targeted the cardiovascular and respiratory systems. Death followed quickly after that.
The Greeks called aconite the “queen of poisons.”
Most cases of reported poisonings by aconite arose in China and India because they used the plant in herbal remedies. Perhaps that was how this poisoner got hold of the aconite?
Charlotte had seen little shops around London selling herbal remedies. There was even a Chinese herbal medicine shop in the parade of stores near her block of flats.
Her mobile phone rang again.
“What?” she snapped, as she picked up the phone and held it to her ear.
She noticed a couple of other officers in the incident room turn towards her. After she hung up, she debated whether to get the calls traced, but there really wasn’t any point.
She knew exactly who was making these calls.
She would change her number. That would be the easiest thing to do.
Charlotte shuffled the papers on her desk and felt DS Mackinnon’s eyes on her, but she refused to look up and meet his gaze.
16
Ruby Wei left the bright spring day outside and entered the Turf Tavern. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, she looked around for someone who looked like a newspaper reporter, no
t really sure what she was looking for.
There were three groups of people who looked like tourists in the main bar, and one man standing on his own at the other end of the bar. He caught her eye and waved her over.
“Ruby?” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Sean. Thanks for agreeing to meet up. Can I get you a drink?”
Ruby nodded and felt her stomach turn over as she looked at the pint of beer he held. Perhaps arranging to meet in a pub had been a bad choice.
“I’ll have an orange juice. Thanks.”
Sean collected both drinks and took them to the nearest table. “Here okay?”
Ruby nodded and they sat down at the wooden table and each took a sip of their drinks. At this time of the afternoon, the pub was not too noisy, although one of the groups of tourists looked like they had been enjoying themselves in here since opening time. Ruby couldn’t quite place their accents, but she suspected they might be German.
The journalist seemed to be full of nervous energy. He twirled a beer mat around his fingers, and she noticed his leg bouncing up and down at the side of the table.
“Right then, shall we get down to it?” he asked with a wide smile.
“What exactly is this piece you’re writing?” Ruby asked, shrugging off her coat.
“It is a general follow-up piece about your research. There was a lot of interest in the original science writers’ competition.” Sean pulled a clunky dictaphone out of his jacket pocket. “You don’t mind if I use this, do you?”
Ruby shook her head.
“So, Ruby,” Sean smiled again and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “Tell me what you’re working on at the moment?”
“A couple of projects, actually. The one that is taking up most of my time is one on cancer vaccines.”
“Oh. Is that related to the aconite project?”
“No, that’s something different. They are completely unrelated projects.”
Sean pulled out a selection of scientific papers from a leather bag and moved his pint glass so he could spread them across the table. Ruby recognized the papers – her name was printed on most of them.