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professional again. ‘It was in the food, then, you think?’
    Sylvia stood up. Bernard Ryan had drifted offagain, but was about to be loaded up and taken away by a paramedic. She flexed her knees and leant against a table. ‘I’m getting a bit old for this lark,’ she said, smiling at Jacquie. ‘Yes, we’ve pinned it down to the prawn cocktail, we think.’
    ‘That explains that, then,’ Jacquie said. Too many loose ends at this stage could be a disaster.
    ‘Explains what?’
    ‘A woman in the foyer was saying she had eaten one. Oh, but that means it can’t be the prawn cocktail …’
    Maxwell dismissed Freda with a wave. ‘She’s been eating council leftovers for years. She’s probably immune to any poison yet invented. Anyway, the buffet was a general free-for-all, but the cocktails were only for SLT and candidates. There were a few spare and Mel from Business took one for herself and one for her TA. However, the teaching assistant is allergic, so Mel polished them both off, rather than put the spare one back.’
    ‘How do you know all this?’
    Maxwell coughed discreetly. ‘Just asked a few questions, used my eyes, Heart of Midlothian,’ he said. ‘It did people good to chat while we were sorting out the walking wounded from the … well, the others. Mel had laughed about her cocktails, because Diamond had made a big thing about the PE department being greedy, but apparently she said there was no one like a Business Studies teacher when it came to gettinga deal.’ He looked more sombre than the story seemed to warrant.
    ‘Is it Mel who died?’ she asked him, hand on his arm.
    ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She died really quickly. She collapsed so fast that no one really had a moment to get to her. Diamond and the rest were throwing up and sort of drooling and behaving oddly before they went down, but she just fell over and died. Sylv realised straight away it was poison – it was all too quick just to be a bad prawn.’
    Davies had moved to the door and was taking names as people were either wheeled or walked away. Now only Jacquie, Maxwell and Sylvia were left and he joined them. Jacquie introduced him to the nurse and he brightened.
    ‘A professional. Brilliant. Can I ask you to give me a statement straight away, Mrs Matthews, while the memory is clear?’
    ‘Wait, Bob,’ Jacquie said. ‘I think it would be best if you interview Mr Maxwell and I will interview Sylvia. Just to keep it a bit more professional, do you get my drift? But before that, we need samples. Are SOCO on their way?’
    ‘I’ve called it in,’ Davies said, ‘and they’re on their way.’ He looked at Maxwell. ‘All we have to do is swab Mr Maxwell, and I think that would more or less do it.’
    Maxwell looked down at himself ruefully. ‘I do feel a bit … grubby,’ he said. ‘Do you mind if I findsomething else to wear, have a shower perhaps?’
    ‘Well …’ Davies had no mind to help Maxwell feel more comfortable.
    ‘What if the poison can seep in, through his pores,’ Sylvia put in her four-pennyworth. ‘After all, we don’t know what it is and you don’t want that on your conscience, surely, Mr Davies.’
    ‘Could it?’ he asked her, as the nearest thing to an expert he had handy.
    She shrugged. ‘Who knows? And I must say, I could do with a change of clothing myself. It’s easy for me, I have my home clothes in my office.’ She turned to Maxwell. ‘What are you going to wear, Max?’
    ‘I’ll see if the PE Department can kit me out in a little Lycra number, or failing that, there’s always the Drama Club costume collection. I’ll find something. I’ve always fancied that glitzy concoction they made for Herod in Superstar a few years back.’ He raised an eyebrow at Davies. ‘May I?’
    Davies sighed. ‘Knock yourself out,’ he said, hopefully. ‘I’ll find us a couple of offices,’ he said to Jacquie. ‘I’ll see you when you’ve finished scrubbing Mr Maxwell’s back,’ and he turned on