Everyone Lies (13 page)

Kate Simms spoke up, following Moran’s example, speaking softly, keeping any moral judgement a country mile away from her tone. ‘None of this is in your witness statement, Jordan.’

‘No?’ Jordan frowned in the effort of concentration. ‘I told them.’ She knuckled the centre of her forehead. ‘I
think
I did.’

Kate Simms glanced down at the signature on Jordan’s witness statement. DS Renwick, ex-Drugs Squad. He was on her team now.

Jordan was looking from Simms to DC Moran; suddenly her shoulders slumped. ‘What the fuck’s it matter – who’s gonna listen to a smackhead, hey?’ Her eyes were full of bleak acceptance and despair.

‘Me,’ Simms said. ‘I’m going to listen, Jordan.’

13

Over the Skype connection, Simms could see Fennimore and an untidy and overstuffed bookcase a few feet behind him; the building’s video conferencing facility was unavailable and they were Skyping laptop to laptop.

Fennimore wasn’t classically handsome, but his intelligence and confidence made up for any slight imperfections. He had an interesting face: straight, dark eyebrows and a narrow nose, grey-blue eyes that readily lit up with delight, or more commonly mischief. But she’d noticed in their Skype conversations that his features were less mobile than when she had known him well, and that when he wasn’t smiling – or teasing – a quiet seriousness settled in the lines around his eyes.

He was in his shirtsleeves, tie loosened, short hair ruffled; he always did run hot when he was doing fuzzy stats.

‘Josh is here,’ he said.

A blur, then the student appeared on her monitor, behind the professor. He jerked his chin as a form of greeting then disappeared off the screen.

‘I was about to call you when I got your text,’ Fennimore said.

‘What have you got?’

‘Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,’ he teased.

‘The local DI confirms there are no new clinics in the area, so that theory’s out,’ she said, humouring him – this wasn’t a power play, just Fennimore’s need to base his thinking on as much evidence as he could gather. ‘We’re still working on the dealer angle, but nothing so far.

‘I’ve re-interviewed several of witnesses to the drugs deaths. One of them gave a very clear account of her sister’s death.’ She summarized Jordan’s description of her sister’s breathing problems in the minutes before she died. ‘And Jade wasn’t the only one. I’ve got three more who say their friends were “breathing funny” when they died, another says the victim was snoring for a bit, then just stopped breathing.’

‘That is interesting.’

‘I thought so. I had a word with the Home Office Pathologist who did the post-mortem on StayC. He said he’d found a slight swelling in her larynx. I asked the hospital pathologists who performed post-mortems on the other victims to review their findings in the light of this – three have got back to me.’

Kate had started work at six that morning. It was now 4.30 p.m. Breakfast had been coffee and a banana. She’d skipped lunch entirely, but she felt turbo-charged with adrenaline as she continued:

‘Two victims showed signs of inflammation in the laryngeal passages. One had mucus secretions in his lungs, but he’d had a chest infection for a couple of weeks, so it wasn’t noted as unusual. In every case, the symptoms were minor.’

‘We need to look at the histology,’ Fennimore said. Tissue samples would have been taken at every post-mortem.

‘Already done that,’ Simms said. ‘StayC’s slides were held up in the system, but the Home Office Pathologist got them fast-tracked; he said the histology suggested a possible adverse drug reaction, so I asked the hospital pathologists to check their tissue samples—’

‘How come they hadn’t already checked?’ That was Josh.

‘Apart from anything else, it costs money,’ Fennimore said. ‘They had a cause of death – drugs overdose – so there wouldn’t be any reason to make any further investigations.’

‘And the more subtle symptoms were dismissed as insignificant,’ Simms added.

‘Tell me about the histological sections,’ Fennimore said, bringing them back to the evidence.

‘They showed signs of cell maceration,’ Simms said.

‘Uh … maceration?’ Josh again, sounding apologetic, but determined to understand everything.

‘It is what it sounds like,’ Fennimore said. ‘On microscopic examination, the cells look mashed up. They rupture and die. It can happen when the body becomes flooded with histamines.’

‘Histamines – so it’s an allergic reaction?’ Josh sounded excited now.

‘It
could
be.’ Fennimore looked at Simms. ‘Josh has been comparing post-mortem reports. A lot of the victims had penicillin in their urine at the time of death.’

A sharp spike of excitement shot from the base of Simms’s spine to the crown of her head. ‘You’re kidding me! StayC was warned to stay away from penicillin two months ago – she was on a course of antibiotics and it brought her out in a rash. Also, the Home Office Pathologist noted a penicillin smell in her urine at postmortem.’ She fixed on Fennimore’s blue-grey eyes. ‘This could be our cause of death, Nick.’

He winced slightly, and she could see that she’d offended his scientific sensibilities.

‘We’re talking about drug addicts and prostitutes here, Kate – they’re not exactly choosy about what they stick in their bodies. These people are seething with nasties at one time or another – of
course
some of them will be taking penicillin.’

Kate wasn’t discouraged. She had expected a cautious response from Fennimore – he never let enthusiasm spoil his objectivity.

‘We’ve been doing a Bayesian analysis,’ he said. ‘Looking at two propositions: either the penicillin in the victims was from the drugs deals or it was legally prescribed by a doctor. Our results say there’s a strong likelihood that the penicillin in your addicts’ urine was from contaminated drugs deals.’

A strong likelihood
. The term was designed to help non-mathematicians understand the relevance of the numbers – and though it might sound unscientific, Simms knew that it was founded on careful calculations.

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘the penicillin was in the drugs deals. But what’s the likelihood that it actually killed them?’

He smiled. ‘You haven’t forgotten
everything
I taught you at the Crime Faculty, then?’

‘Only a few minor details, but, hey, they’re just facts – I can always look them up. Pity you seem to’ve forgotten all the subtle social skills I taught you.’

He dipped his head in mock apology. ‘It is an excellent question, though, because despite its bad press, penicillin isn’t all that deadly. Allergic reactions happen, but they’re relatively rare, and usually mild. Depending on which study you read, you’ll get full-blown anaphylaxis in fewer than one in a hundred people. And only one in eight
million
will actually die of it.’

She sighed impatiently. ‘You seem to be arguing against your own case, Nick.’

‘I’m not
making a case
, I’m looking at the evidence, Kate, and that means looking at it from every possible angle.’

‘All right.’ She understood his irritation, but her superintendent was screaming for answers and so far all Simms had was a fist full of maybes. ‘But if this is going to end with you saying we need to look elsewhere for what killed these people, can we get to the bad news – soon?’

‘The fact is,’ Fennimore said, ‘that despite all the arguments
against
penicillin being the culprit, the numbers say that your victims are
one thousand
times
more
likely to have died from penicillin than from anything else. Context is everything, Kate – you know that – so when we add in the new factors you’ve just given us: cell maceration, swelling of the victims’ airways, hyper-secretion of the bronchial mucosa—’

‘Penicillin is our cause of death.’

He looked into her face. ‘Almost certainly.’

She clenched her hand into a fist, her blood positively fizzing with a new flood of adrenaline. She had a case. Not just the sad what-a-waste deaths of a few hopeless addicts who didn’t know how to measure their dosage – a
real case
, with criminals to track down and bring to justice. She nodded, considering, thinking how she would present it to her boss, and her brief sense of triumph was rudely elbowed to one side by a whole new set of questions.

‘Problem?’ Fennimore said.

‘I’m wondering why so many deaths if penicillin isn’t particularly deadly,’ she said. ‘And why so many women?’

‘Hm … that is a facer, isn’t it?’ Fennimore rested his chin on his fist and stared at a point to the left of the screen. ‘Most cases of penicillin anaphylaxis happen with a sick person being cared for in a family situation,’ he said. ‘An anxious parent or spouse notices the signs and calls for an ambulance.’ He continued to look off to the left, and she could almost see him picturing the tableau: a mother wringing her hands as paramedics leaned over her stricken child. ‘But addicts shoot up with other addicts. If they’re high, they’re not watching out for anyone else – you only have to listen to Jordan’s story to know that.’

‘So they send for help too late, or not at all.’ Simms nodded. ‘Okay, that makes sense. But it still doesn’t account for the number of female victims.’

‘Ah, yes, the gender bias …’ He picked up a pen. Although she couldn’t see it, she knew he would be doodling, mapping, writing down random words. ‘Women
are
more prone to allergy than men,’ he said, and then fell silent. For a full minute, he said nothing. It would have been easy to do a web search, but Fennimore had a phenomenal ability to dredge up obscure facts from his memory and, though he would never admit it, he did like to show off.

‘Allergies happen when a sensitive person is exposed to an allergen – obviously. Sometimes just once will do it, but often it’s after multiple exposures. Studies show that if people are given penicillin on many occasions
and
on an irregular basis, it increases the chances of developing an allergy even where none existed before. Those are exactly the circumstances these women would find themselves in – antibiotic treatment for chlamydia one month, gonorrhoea the next, maybe a course of antibiotics for a bronchial infection,’ he said, thinking it through as he spoke. ‘Add to that bad hygiene, dirty needles, dirty punters – their immune systems were severely challenged, which heightens the risk of sensitization and an allergic response further down the line.’

‘A perfect storm,’ Simms murmured, leaning back in her chair. But just as her mind turned to the machinery she would employ to accelerate into the next stage of the investigation, she had a realization that jammed a great iron spike into the works. ‘One problem with your logic, though – none of our victims showed obvious signs.’

Fennimore didn’t even break stride. ‘They wouldn’t have to go into full-blown anaphylactic shock for it to kill them,’ he said. ‘You know addicts sometimes die of positional asphyxia?’

Simms nodded. ‘Of course. The head slumps forward onto the chest, obstructs the airways.’

‘And since breathing is already suppressed by the heroin, they die,’ he said. ‘Add into the mix even a
mild
reaction to penicillin – like StayC’s – and you’d greatly increase the risk of death.’

Her mood lifted. ‘And the death could easily be mistaken for an overdose.’

Fennimore nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ‘Josh has discovered something else that might be relevant.’ He looked over to his right. ‘Tell the Chief Inspector about the clusters.’ He turned the laptop and the screen seemed to pitch. Kate Simms experienced a moment of unexpected vertigo, then the student appeared on the monitor.

Josh seemed unnerved, almost literally blinking in the spotlight, but after taking a second to steady himself, he said, ‘Seven of the penicillin deaths happened in the last five months – that’s statistically significant – and I was thinking maybe the suppliers are cutting the deals with more of the stuff than they did when this all kicked off eight months ago.’

‘Why cut it with penicillin at all?’ Simms said. ‘I mean, I know it’s about maximizing profit, but why not use bicarbonate or benzodiazepines or whatever else they generally use?’

Fennimore appeared, shoulder to shoulder with the student. ‘Penicillin is relatively easy to come by, it’s dispensed as a nice white powder, making it a good lookalike if you want to bulk up a heroin consignment; it’s water soluble, so it wouldn’t do anything in the cooking to put an addict off using it. It’s a bit smelly, maybe, but in a medicinal sort of way, and maybe Josh’s theory was right – it cost them nothing because they nicked it.’

Simms tapped her desk, thinking. ‘So either they got greedy, decided to bulk the deals up just to make more money, or they lost a delivery.’

‘It’d have to be a big one to disrupt their supply for over half a year,’ Fennimore said, off camera.

‘Operation Snowstorm.’ The room seemed suddenly brighter, her brain cells zinging from a fresh flood of adrenaline. ‘Gifford mentioned it at the press conference – 4.5 million pounds’ worth of heroin was seized. That was eight months ago – exactly the time when the first death happened.’ She grinned. ‘Cause of death
and
the trigger for the whole mess in one night – good work, guys.’ She flicked her laptop mousepad with her fingertip, eager to get her team working on the new information.

‘Whoa, wait.’ Fennimore’s hand blurred as he raised it to stop her. ‘We do still have to confirm by analysis that it
is
actually penicillin in the urine.’

‘Yes, right, sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve had the okay to use your university for the analysis. If I sent you some samples from the OD victims, how quickly could you turn them around?’

‘Are these urine samples, or did you find some nice easy-to-process deals?’ Fennimore asked.

‘Actual deals found with the bodies. Eight from Evidence, so far. Some of the wraps got flushed or nicked by other users before Emergency Services arrived on the scene, but I do have three untouched wraps from StayC’s bedroom.’