Free Beneath the Bleeding by Val McDermid

microgramdose of ricin would be about the size of the head of a pin. Not hard to slip into a drink or into some food. In those quantities, it would be tasteless.’
    ‘So we’re looking for someone who had access to his food or drink?’
    Denby nodded. ‘That’s the most likely route.’ He fiddled with his pen. ‘It might also be infiltrated into a recreational drug such as cocaine or amphetamine, something snorted. Again, one would not notice any taste or smell.’
    ‘Do you have blood and urine samples that you can test for recreational drugs?’
    Denby nodded. ‘I’ll see that it’s done.’
    ‘How did you figure it out?’
    ‘My SHO, Dr Blessing. I think you or one of your colleagues spoke to her in the first instance?’
    ‘Yes, I know Dr Blessing contacted us. But what alerted her?’
    Denby gave a little smirk. Carol liked him even less. ‘I don’t want to sound vain, but Dr Blessing reckoned that if I couldn’t work out what was wrong with Mr Bishop, then it must be something quite a long way out of the ordinary. She checked out the symptoms in our online database and ricin poisoning was the single thing that fit the bill. She brought her conclusions to me, and I ordered the standard test. It came back strongly positive. There really is no room for doubt, Chief Inspector.’
    Carol closed her notebook. ‘Thanks for explaining this so clearly,’ she said. ‘You said you’d been reading up on ricin-is there any chance you could put some sort of briefing together for me and my officers?’
    ‘I’ll get Dr Blessing on to it right away.’ He stood, indicating that the interview was over as far as he was concerned.
    ‘Can I see him?’ Carol said.
    Denby rubbed his thumb against his jaw. ‘Nothing much to see,’ he said. ‘But yes, I’ll take you through. His parents may have come back–they were in the relatives’ room. I had to break the news to them, and they were understandably shocked and upset. I asked them to stay put until they were feeling a little calmer. It doesn’t help the ICU team if people are in an emotional state around the patients.’ He spoke dismissively, as if the smooth running of a hospital ward were infinitely more important than the anguish of parents about to lose a son.
    Carol followed him to Robbie Bishop’s bedside. The two chairs by the bed were empty. Carol stood at the foot of the bed, taking in the various monitors, the tubes and machines that were keeping Robbie Bishop as stable as possible on what was going to be a short journey to death. His skin was waxy, a sheen of sweat visible on his cheeks and forehead. She wanted to hold this image in her head. This was going to be a nightmare investigation for all sorts of reasons, and she wanted to make sure she didn’t lose sight of the human being at the heart of it. The media would be clamouring for answers, the fans would be demanding someone’s head on a platter and her bosses would be eager to cover themselves in whatever glory she could drag out of the situation.
    Carol was determined to find out who had destroyed Robbie Bishop, and why. But for her own sake, she needed to be sure she was pursuing hiskiller for the right reasons. Now she’d seen him, she could be a lot more sure of that.
     
    Detective Constable Paula McIntyre knew all about shock and grief. She’d seen countless examples and she was still recovering from experiencing the extremes of both at first hand. So she didn’t read anything into Martin Flanagan’s behaviour other than the obvious fact that he had been shattered to the core by the news Dr Blessing had delivered.
    His was the active, agitated response. He couldn’t keep still. It didn’t surprise Paula; she’d seen it before, particularly with men whose livelihoods centred round physical activity, whether on a building site or a sports field. Flanagan paced restlessly, then threw himself into a chair where he fidgeted with fingers and feet till he could stand the confinement no