Free Malicious Intent by Kathryn Fox Page B

here behind anyone’s back,’ Anya said, stepping forward to meet his eye.
    ‘I didn’t see a written request for you to access any of our material.’
    ‘I told her not to bother with formalities,’ Jeff interjected.
    ‘Well, you don’t have the authority.’ Carney stabbed his index finger in Sales’s direction. ‘I am the one who grants or denies access to information protected by this office.’
    Anya felt her face flush. ‘The Royal College of Pathologists of Australasia has a policy relating to second opinions. A request to review material in a case by a bona fide expert in the area must not be refused.’
    ‘I’m familiar with the policy. That access is only granted as long as it won’t interfere with the functioning of the coroner in the case of a homicide, or confidential aspects of a police inquiry.’
    ‘In practice, we’ve never refused a request,’ Jeff offered.
    ‘Besides, the coroner has already ruled this case a drug overdose.’
    ‘This case is marked as a possible homicide,’ Carney said before turning to Anya. ‘I want you to leave now. You may send a written request and I’ll review it as I see fit.’
    Anya had heard that Alf Carney could be difficult. Rumor had it, he was even more so after a current affairs television program questioned his findings in relation to a number of cases.

    KATHRYN FOX
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    She decided that an argument right now would be futile. Carney was still acting head of Western Forensics for another six months, until the permanent director returned from a sabbati-cal working with the International War Crimes Tribunal.
    Besides, she had the information she needed. She did, though, wonder why he’d become so defensive about another pathologist looking at the case.
    She picked up her briefcase, thanked Jeff for his courtesy and left.
    Back in the car, along the M2 tollway, Anya’s mobile rang. She slowed and pulled over.
    ‘Anya, Jeff Sales. Sorry about the trouble earlier. Alf ’s under a bit of pressure with two of his cases being reopened. I tried to keep you away from him.’ Anya heard crackling; the line was breaking up.
    ‘I’m about to board the plane but I thought you should know. I finished going through those slides and it’s probably nothing, but the lung tissue wasn’t entirely normal.’
    ‘In what way?’
    ‘Fibers. Masses of fibers were embedded in the lung tissue.’
    The signal was interrupted. ‘Don’t know what the chances are, but –’
    ‘Can you describe them?’
    ‘They’re unlike anything I’ve seen before. Looked like –’
    His voice dropped out. The phone crackled before it cut in again.
    ‘. . . small hourglass shapes.’
    The line went dead.

    10
    Anya studied the computer screen. On the desk lay the remainder of a half-eaten Lean Cuisine, forgotten when she downloaded the files. Jeff Sales had scanned the slides before he’d left for the airport and sent them attached to an e-mail.
    What a gem. She owed him one.
    In the quiet of her office, she stared at the fibers. Why had there been two cases with similar findings in such a short space of time? The postmortems on Clare Matthews and Fatima Deab had been conducted at different centers, so the specimens couldn’t have been from the same person, and merely mis-labeled. The odds of two young women inhaling the same fibers would have to be low, but how low? If it was a new fiber used in buildings, was this the start of an epidemic? She searched the Web and failed to find a match for the hourglass fibers. Histopathology sites showed the usual asbestos, but no variants. A Medline search didn’t help either. There were no journal articles of lung disease caused by anything resembling what Jeff had found.
    The Central Sydney Public Health Unit and the Western Area branch Web sites didn’t contain any warnings or press releases apart from the usual advice about Legionnella infection.
    She clicked on her discussion groups and sent a question to KATHRYN FOX
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    the forensic