and they bleed to death."
A ship's siren sounded out in
the Forth. They peered into the swirling mist but saw nothing.
Jenny said, "I just don't see how the drug could have been
administered, can you?"
"Rats have to eat it, so maybe
it was mixed into the victims' food or drink. I can't see anyone
having an injection without knowing it."
"Unless the victim was a
patient who was having injections all the time, or a child who
trusted anyone in uniform."
"Susan wasn't a patient or a
child and she wasn't having injections," said Fenton.
"Are you sure?"
The question made Fenton think
before saying, "No, I suppose I'm not, come to think of it. All of
us in the lab get protective vaccines from time to time because we
handle so much contaminated material."
Jenny said, "Just suppose Susan
had been given a large dose of anti-coagulant instead of say, an
anti-typhoid injection. She wouldn't have known would she?"
"That would make our killer a
doctor or a nurse, someone with access to the wards and the
staff."
"Can you find out if Susan did
have any inoculations shortly before her death?" Jenny asked.
"It will be in the lab
personnel files."
"I could try to find out who
has been on duty in the staff treatment suite over the past few
weeks."
"I've just had another
thought," said Fenton, pausing for a moment to see if it made sense
before committing himself. "The staff treatment suite is next to
the Central Sterile Supply Department, where Neil was killed."
"And anti-coagulants are not on
the restricted drugs list; they're not kept under lock and
key..."
"So they would be readily
available and the killer would not have to account for them..."
"Let's suppose some more," said
Jenny, the adrenalin now flowing fast. "Suppose Neil went to the
Sterile Supply Department to see Sister Kincaid and found that she
wasn't there. We know she wasn't; she was at lunch. He went next
door to look for her and stumbled on the killer messing with
injection vials."
"So the killer murdered Neil to
keep him quiet? Makes sense."
"It also makes it a man," said
Jenny, "I can't see a woman overpowering Neil can you?"
"No, and there was no sign of a
weapon having been used. You are right; it had to be a man, and a
powerful man at that. Neil was no seven-stone weakling."
At seven fifteen next morning
Jenny left for the hospital, leaving Fenton still in bed. They had
arranged to meet at lunch time to discuss progress in what they had
agreed to find out. Fenton rose at eight, washed, dressed and sat
down at the kitchen table with orange juice and coffee to read 'The
Scotsman' which had popped noisily through the letter box while he
was shaving. He scanned the front page for mention of the hospital
and was relieved to find only a few lines near the bottom to the
effect that inquiries were still continuing into the sudden deaths
of two members of the biochemistry department.
Finding the silence oppressive
he turned on the radio. ‘1-9-4-Close to you...' droned the jingle
as Fenton took his glass and cup to the sink. The sound of the
'current number four in the charts' filled the kitchen briefly
before he changed the waveband and found Vivaldi instead. He tidied
away the dishes and wiped the work surface where he had spilled
orange juice.
The minute hand on the kitchen
clock moved jerkily on to eight thirty as Fenton switched off the
radio and checked that he had his keys in his pocket before
leaving. He tried to keep the noise of his feet on the stone steps
down to a minimum as he descended but they still echoed around the
stair well; the noise reverberated off the high ceramic walls.
Fenton waited until ten
o'clock, when he knew that Liz Scott, the lab secretary, would be
at her busiest then went downstairs to the office. "Good morning
Liz, I just want to check when my next T.A.B is due...Don't worry,
I can find it myself."
"Thanks, I'm snowed under at
the moment."
Fenton took the keys that were
handed to him and approached the filing cabinet by
A ship's siren sounded out in
the Forth. They peered into the swirling mist but saw nothing.
Jenny said, "I just don't see how the drug could have been
administered, can you?"
"Rats have to eat it, so maybe
it was mixed into the victims' food or drink. I can't see anyone
having an injection without knowing it."
"Unless the victim was a
patient who was having injections all the time, or a child who
trusted anyone in uniform."
"Susan wasn't a patient or a
child and she wasn't having injections," said Fenton.
"Are you sure?"
The question made Fenton think
before saying, "No, I suppose I'm not, come to think of it. All of
us in the lab get protective vaccines from time to time because we
handle so much contaminated material."
Jenny said, "Just suppose Susan
had been given a large dose of anti-coagulant instead of say, an
anti-typhoid injection. She wouldn't have known would she?"
"That would make our killer a
doctor or a nurse, someone with access to the wards and the
staff."
"Can you find out if Susan did
have any inoculations shortly before her death?" Jenny asked.
"It will be in the lab
personnel files."
"I could try to find out who
has been on duty in the staff treatment suite over the past few
weeks."
"I've just had another
thought," said Fenton, pausing for a moment to see if it made sense
before committing himself. "The staff treatment suite is next to
the Central Sterile Supply Department, where Neil was killed."
"And anti-coagulants are not on
the restricted drugs list; they're not kept under lock and
key..."
"So they would be readily
available and the killer would not have to account for them..."
"Let's suppose some more," said
Jenny, the adrenalin now flowing fast. "Suppose Neil went to the
Sterile Supply Department to see Sister Kincaid and found that she
wasn't there. We know she wasn't; she was at lunch. He went next
door to look for her and stumbled on the killer messing with
injection vials."
"So the killer murdered Neil to
keep him quiet? Makes sense."
"It also makes it a man," said
Jenny, "I can't see a woman overpowering Neil can you?"
"No, and there was no sign of a
weapon having been used. You are right; it had to be a man, and a
powerful man at that. Neil was no seven-stone weakling."
At seven fifteen next morning
Jenny left for the hospital, leaving Fenton still in bed. They had
arranged to meet at lunch time to discuss progress in what they had
agreed to find out. Fenton rose at eight, washed, dressed and sat
down at the kitchen table with orange juice and coffee to read 'The
Scotsman' which had popped noisily through the letter box while he
was shaving. He scanned the front page for mention of the hospital
and was relieved to find only a few lines near the bottom to the
effect that inquiries were still continuing into the sudden deaths
of two members of the biochemistry department.
Finding the silence oppressive
he turned on the radio. ‘1-9-4-Close to you...' droned the jingle
as Fenton took his glass and cup to the sink. The sound of the
'current number four in the charts' filled the kitchen briefly
before he changed the waveband and found Vivaldi instead. He tidied
away the dishes and wiped the work surface where he had spilled
orange juice.
The minute hand on the kitchen
clock moved jerkily on to eight thirty as Fenton switched off the
radio and checked that he had his keys in his pocket before
leaving. He tried to keep the noise of his feet on the stone steps
down to a minimum as he descended but they still echoed around the
stair well; the noise reverberated off the high ceramic walls.
Fenton waited until ten
o'clock, when he knew that Liz Scott, the lab secretary, would be
at her busiest then went downstairs to the office. "Good morning
Liz, I just want to check when my next T.A.B is due...Don't worry,
I can find it myself."
"Thanks, I'm snowed under at
the moment."
Fenton took the keys that were
handed to him and approached the filing cabinet by
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