Everyone Lies (8 page)

Authors: A. Garrett D.

BOOK: Everyone Lies

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He drove those thoughts from his mind, or at least squeezed them into a corner where they would stay quiet for a while. After years of trying, he had learned that he could keep them at bay working fourteen-hour days dealing with statistics of a more endurable nature.

He reached into his laptop bag and fished out a sheet of A4 paper and some whiteboard markers; Fennimore disliked linear note-taking, preferring instead to work through complex ideas using mindmaps, a visual tool that used a tree branch format combining key words, symbols and colour. He wrote ‘EXCESS DRUGS DEATHS’ in block capitals in black ink at the centre of the sheet, and with an artistic flourish he drew a rough gravestone around it. Swapping from black to orange, he added a side branch to the right of the gravestone and wrote ‘CHARACTERISTICS’ along the line.

‘We have twenty ODs in all,’ he said. ‘Thirteen extra deaths above what you would expect in the last eight months. If something in the deals is killing them, it’s likely to be in
all
the deals.’ Josh furrowed his brow ready to ask why, and Fennimore added, ‘It’s more efficient to make up the deals in bulk – think industry, production lines.’

‘If it’s in all of the deals, it can’t be very toxic, or we’d have more deaths,’ Simms said.

He wrote ‘LOW TOXICITY’ on a side branch.

‘Unless it’s only poisonous to some people,’ Josh said.

Simms said, ‘We’ve got fifteen female victims out of twenty.’

‘Interesting.’ Fennimore wrote ‘SELECTIVE?’ on the diagram, then added a sub-branch and wrote ‘GENDER BIAS?’

‘It’s not something we’d see on routine toxicology, or it would have turned up on normal post-mortem,’ Simms said.

Fennimore nodded. ‘It’s also fast acting, because a lot of these deaths happened within an hour of injection.’

‘How could they tell that?’ Josh asked.

‘The body treats heroin like any other toxin,’ Fennimore said. ‘As soon as it’s injected, the liver gets to work on breaking it down into something safer. At the post-mortem the pathologist will prepare tissue and fluid samples from different parts of the body. Urine is taken direct from the bladder, blood is usually syringed out of the femoral artery. You can estimate how long the heroin was in the body by comparing the drugs found in wraps or syringes recovered at the scene with the concentration of metabolites in the decedent’s blood and urine.’

‘Plus, there were witnesses to some of the deaths,’ Kate added, ‘and they all say the victims died fast.’

‘We need to re-interview those witnesses,’ Fennimore said.

‘I’m in the process of tracking them down,’ Simms said. ‘But addicts aren’t the easiest people to keep tabs on.’

Josh was frowning at his laptop screen. ‘Heroin’s usually cut with all kinds of crap to bulk it up, isn’t it?’

Fennimore nodded. ‘More heroin, bigger profits.’

‘So, if they injected purer stuff than they were used to, they’d overdose and die before the heroin is metabolized, so you’d get low metabolites – like we’ve got here.’

‘Good reasoning,’ Fennimore said. ‘But we would also expect to see high morphine levels in the blood, and that’s not showing in the lab results we have so far.’ He looked pointedly at Kate. ‘On the other hand, we haven’t seen all of the reports yet.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘These weren’t suspicious deaths, Nick – they were routine drugs overdoses, done as standard hospital post-mortems by hospital pathologists. It’s not like a nice tidy Forensic Post Mortem – I can’t just go to one Home Office pathologist and come back with a bundle of files under my arm. I’m dealing with four pathologists on different shifts in two different hospitals.’

‘I understand that,’ he said, ‘but I do hate to theorize with so little data.’

‘You’ll have the rest by tomorrow,’ she said. ‘But if we can narrow the field today, I can direct my efforts, waste less energy and stay within budget.’

He nodded. Since the government squeeze on public finances, budgets had been slashed. Politicians called it ‘making difficult choices’ and urged ‘prioritization’ – an ugly word for abandoning the disenfranchised. Simms was telling him that she had to justify and cost every investigative decision she made, because management priorities said these were only addicts and not regular human beings. It was number two on his list of reasons for quitting police work.

‘So far, we know that they didn’t die of a genuine overdose,’ Simms said. ‘What else could have killed them?’

‘What about the death threats against StayC?’ Josh said. ‘You said whatever killed them must be in all the deals – maybe it was poison.’

Fennimore thought about it. ‘Strychnine is out – that would show up on a regular PM tox screen. Arsenic and antimony would be the obvious choice. But they’re too slow-acting – you’re talking hours, weeks, even months, depending on the quantities in the deals. Cyanide must be a possibility,’ he said, half to himself, adding it to the list.

‘Come
on
,’ Kate said, breaking into his reverie. ‘Addicts are desperate, not suicidal – cyanide smells of bitter almonds, and one of the top ten rules of safe injection is if it smells funny, don’t inject it.’

‘You’re right,’ he agreed. ‘And although most men can’t smell it, all women
can
– so you would expect more men than women among your victims.’ He placed a cross next to cyanide.

‘What about an interaction?’ Josh asked, pausing briefly from his typing. ‘You know – there’s not enough morphine in the deals to kill them, but something they used to cut the deals increases the effect?’

Fennimore added ‘CUTTING AGENTS’ to the diagram.

‘Other opiates like papaverine and codeine would be the usual suspects,’ Fennimore said, ‘but they’re both on the regular PM tox screen, and they don’t show up in our deaths.’ He tapped the pen on the tabletop, feeling mildly intoxicated by the whiff of solvent from the tip. ‘It
might
be a side effect, of course …’

‘Well, whatever it is, it must be cheap,’ Simms said.

Fennimore looked at her in question.

‘Like you said, it’s all about profit margins.’

‘Everything’s cheap if you nick it,’ Josh said without looking up.

Fennimore stopped writing, and Kate peered at the student through the webcam. He continued scrolling through his notes, but sensing the scrutiny, he looked up. ‘What?’ he said. ‘I’m just saying maybe whatever it was could’ve come from a pharmacy break-in or a factory or something.’

Fennimore shrugged, added ‘CHEAP/STOLEN?’ on a new branch, and leaned back from his creation.

‘So, some form of contaminant.’ Kate looked into the distance. ‘Wasn’t there an anthrax scare up in Scotland a few years back?’

‘Yes,’ Fennimore said. ‘But anthrax victims get very sick – At post-mortem, you would see swelling of the lymph glands, abscesses, ulcers at the site of injection – I can’t see all of that being missed, even on a regular PM, even across two hospitals and four pathologists. These victims looked like drugs overdoses, Kate. They injected, blissed out, didn’t wake up.’

Kate pushed her fingers through her hair again. In their Crime Faculty days, when she wore her hair long, Kate would lift it from the nape of her neck to cool it, and more than once, as they worked through evidence, it had taken heroic self-control not to lean across and kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck.

‘The fact is, until we know what really killed them, we won’t even be able to separate the normal deaths from the excess ones,’ Fennimore said.

Kate stood abruptly. ‘Keep thinking,’ she said. ‘I’m going to make myself a coffee that would blow the lid off a pressure cooker.’ She walked away, leaving a blurry image of a kitchen table, cupboards beyond. A few moments later, they heard the rumble of a kettle boiling, like a distant rock fall. Fennimore rubbed the centre of his forehead, trying to massage his frontal cortex into action. The sound of Josh’s typing continued, like the soft patter of rain against a window.

‘We know the deaths are real.’ Fennimore raised his voice to carry over the sound of coffee-making, wishing he’d thought to make up a flask. ‘I mean, that they’re not a random blip in the stats – so there must be a common thread.’

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Simms reappeared, a steaming mug in her hand.

Fennimore ignored the jibe. ‘If the deaths
are
caused by a contaminant,’ he said, thinking aloud, not sure where this stream-of-consciousness was taking him, ‘it was probably added locally, because if it got into the drugs earlier in the supply chain we’d be seeing a lot more deaths across a much wider area – maybe even nationally—’

Kate stopped, the coffee mug halfway to her lips. ‘Say that first bit again.’

‘I said whatever-it-was, it was probably added locally.’

She set her cup down and glanced at the notes beside her. ‘I’m looking at a list of names and locations.’ She pulled out a map and snatched up a pen. ‘If I mark where the victims were found …’ Her eyes darted left and right as she studied the list, found the locations on the map and marked each one off. After a few minutes, she held up the map.

‘Most of them are in Cheetham Hill, pushing out as far as Waterloo Road to the west, and Queens Park to the east – it’s a
tiny
area, Nick.’ Her gaze shifted from the map to the list. ‘Only one vic was found out of area – in Piccadilly Gardens, right in the city centre, two miles away. That’s practically the far side of the moon for some of these girls, but I happen to know there’s a drop-in centre for addicts in Piccadilly, so maybe it’s not so strange …’ She set down the list and studied the city-centre map again. ‘Okay …’

‘Talk to me, Kate.’

‘What if a new drugs refuge or rehab unit opened in Cheetham Hill,’ she said. ‘That would screw the numbers, wouldn’t it? I mean, more druggies in the area, a greater probability of drug-related deaths?’

‘Yes.’ Fennimore’s head began to buzz with excitement. ‘Yes, it would. But you would expect a corresponding decrease elsewhere.’

‘I’ll talk to the inspector at Cheetham Hill,’ she said. ‘He would know if there’s a new drop-in centre or refuge in the area. And I’ll ask the Crime Pattern Analysts to look for any unexpected drop-off of deaths anywhere else in Manchester.’ Her eyes were bright and eager, and she fidgeted on her chair as if tiny sparks jolted through her muscles.

He felt charged with her energy. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘While you’re doing that, Josh and I can look at the paperwork. But Kate—’

‘I know, I know,’ she said. ‘You need the rest of the coroners’ reports.’

‘That’s only the start of it. I’ll also need the toxicology results on all the cases, so we can assess the methods used, to see what may have fallen through the cracks. If you can find any remaining drug deals taken from the victims’ possessions, get them analyzed. If you’re lucky, the blood and urine samples will have been stored at the mortuary or hospital path lab; ask for a wider tox screen on those – that’s if the coroner will pay for it.’

‘I think I’ve got enough here to convince him,’ she said.

‘Excellent.’

‘But, Nick – it’d take three or four months for a regional toxicology unit to get around to it …’

Fennimore felt the dangerous tug of the undertow again. She hadn’t asked him outright, and she could send the samples elsewhere, but if he wanted to help Kate – and he did – he would have to get involved in a way he swore he never would do again.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘If you can get permission, I’ll screen them in the labs here.’ He glanced at Josh, but the student was focused on summarizing his notes on his laptop. ‘You don’t need to mention my name.’

‘Okay.’

‘And you’ll need to talk to the pathologists about other possibilities.’

‘Like what, for instance?’ Kate asked.

‘Inflammation of the brain, cardiac myopathy in case it’s bacterial, signs of anaphylaxis in case they’ve all been stung by a curiously persistent bee – ask them to be creative.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Any further details about the sequence of events: who was with them, anything out of the ordinary in the social set-up.’

‘I’ll talk to the witnesses, see if I can get help to canvass the families, too.’ She came to a halt, her face troubled.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘I’m thinking about that
Mirror
headline tomorrow. They want to know what Greater Manchester Police is doing to show we care. “More tests” is going to sound a bit lame.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Josh, could you send a copy of your notes through to Kate?’

Josh nodded. ‘It should be in your inbox—’ he hit ‘send’ ‘—now.’

Fennimore scanned the bullet-pointed outcomes of their discussion and nodded his approval.

13 EXCESS DRUGS DEATHS

CHARACTERISTICS