Patricia Cornwell - Red Mist

“She bought this since she’s been down here, since she’s been interviewing people at the prison. Maybe she had allergies,” he says. “You have an idea when she first came to Savannah and rented this place?”

“She indicated to me that it was several months ago.”

“Maybe April or May. The pollen was really bad this spring. It was like everything had been spray-painted yellowish green. For a while I couldn’t run or bike outside. I’d breathe in all this pollen and my eyes would swell, my throat would close up.” He is making conversation, being amicable, the good cop chatting with me.

Sammy Chang is being collegial, and I know the game. Loosen up, open up, I’m your friend, and I intend to treat him as my friend because I’m not the enemy. I have nothing to hide. I’ll take a polygraph. I’ll swear to the facts under oath. I don’t care that he hasn’t read me my rights, and I don’t care what he asks. I will admit freely that I feel guilty, because I do. But I’m not guilty of causing Jaime Berger’s death. I’m guilty of not preventing it.

“I’m going to guess she took Benadryl last night based on the torn-open box and the packet on the floor,” I say to him. “If she took two tablets, she must have been suffering significant symptoms, possibly was having trouble breathing. But we won’t know until her tox is back whether she has diphenhydramine on board.”

“Maybe she had a severe allergic reaction to something she ate. Maybe the sushi. Was she allergic to shellfish?”

“Or she thought she was having a severe allergic reaction because she was having difficulty breathing or swallowing or keeping her eyes open,” I tell him, as I pick up other toiletries to see where she bought them. “It’s been reported, as you know from being at the prison a few hours ago, that Kathleen Lawler was having difficulty breathing after she came in from the exercise cage. Supposedly she had trouble speaking and keeping her eyes open. Symptoms one might associate with flaccid paralysis.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“Nerves are no longer stimulating muscles, usually starting with the head. Drooping eyelids, blurred or double vision, difficulty speaking and swallowing. As paralysis progresses downward, breathing becomes labored, and this is followed by respiratory failure and death.”

“Caused by what? What might she have been exposed to that could do what you describe?”

“Some type of neurotoxin is what comes to mind.”

I bring up Dawn Kincaid. I tell him that Kathleen Lawler’s biological daughter, who is charged with multiple violent crimes in Massachusetts, including the attempted murder of me, experienced difficulty breathing inside her cell at Butler this morning and went into respiratory arrest. She appears to be brain-dead, and I explain that officials there are concerned she was poisoned.

“I’m not aware of Jaime being allergic to shellfish, unless she developed a sensitivity recently,” I continue. “Although an anaphylactic reaction to shellfish could cause flaccid paralysis and death. As could other types of poisoning. It appears Jaime did a lot of her shopping at the same pharmacy, Monck’s. It would be good to pay close attention to anything she might have purchased there, anything from there that’s in the apartment. Any product or over-the-counter meds or prescriptions, including anything she might have gotten in the past that we’re not seeing now. Just to rule out she didn’t do this to herself or that something she bought there wasn’t tampered with.”

“You mean if someone tampered with something on the shelves inside the store.”

“We need to consider every possibility we can think of, and we need a careful inventory of everything in this apartment,” I reiterate. “The last thing we want to do is overlook a potential poison that gets left behind and hurts or kills someone else.”

“You’re thinking suicide’s a possibility.”

“I’m not thinking that.”

“Or that maybe she accidentally got hold of something.”

“I have a feeling you know what I’m thinking,” I answer him. “Someone poisoned her, and it’s deliberate and premeditated. My overriding question is poisoned her with what?”

“Well, if something was put in her food,” he then says. “Any ideas what could cause the symptoms you described? What might you put in someone’s food that within hours would kill them from flaccid paralysis?”

“There’s nothing I would put in any person’s food.”

“I didn’t mean you personally.” He continues to photograph every item in the bathroom, every toiletry and bath product, every beauty aide, even the bars of soap, and he is jotting notes in his notebook, and I know what he’s doing.

Buying time and gathering information, methodically, painstakingly, patiently. Because the more time we spend, the more I talk. I’m not naïve, and he knows I’m not, and the game plays on because I choose not to stop it.

“And a neurotoxin would be what? Give me some examples.” He probes for information that might tell him I murdered Jaime Berger or the others or know who did.

“Any toxin that destroys nerve tissue,” I answer. “The list is long. Benzene, acetone, ethylene glycol, codeine phosphate, arsenic.”

But I’m not worried about any such thing. I don’t believe Jaime was exposed to benzene or antifreeze, or that some household product like nail polish remover or a pesticide was laced in her sushi or mixed with her Scotch or that she got into the cough syrup. Those types of poisonings are usually accidental or irrational acts. They aren’t the stuff of my nightmares. There are far worse things I fear. Chemical and biological agents of terror. Weapons of mass destruction made of water, powder, and gas, killing us with what we drink, touch, and breathe. Or poisoning our food. I mention saxitoxin, ricin, fugu, ciguatera. I suggest to Sammy Chang we should be thinking about botulinum toxin, the most potent poison on earth.

“People can get botulism from sushi, right?” He opens the door of the shower stall.

“Clostridium botulinum, the anaerobic organism that produces the poison or nerve toxin, is ubiquitous. The bacterium is in the soil and the sediment of lakes and ponds. Virtually any food or liquid could be at risk for contamination. If that’s what she was exposed to, the onset was unusually fast. Usually it takes at least six hours for symptoms, and more commonly twelve or thirty-six.”

“Like when you have a can of vegetables that’s bulging because of gas and you’re always told not to eat something that looks that way,” he says. “That’s botulism.”

“Food-borne botulism is commonly associated with improper canning and poor hygienic procedures or oils infused with garlic or herbs and then not refrigerated. Poorly washed raw vegetables, potatoes baked in aluminum foil and allowed to cool before they’re served. You can get it from a lot of things.”

“Shit, well, that just ruined a lot of foods for me. So if you’re the bad guy …”

“I’m not a bad guy.”

“Saying you were, you’d cultivate this bacteria somehow and then put it in someone’s food so they die of botulism?” Chang asks.

“I don’t know how it was done. Assuming we’re talking about botulinum toxin.”

“And you’re worried we are.”

“It’s something we need to consider very seriously. Extremely seriously.”

“Is it common to use in homicidal poisonings?”

“It wouldn’t be common at all,” I answer. “I’m not aware of any cases. But botulinum toxin would be very difficult to detect if you didn’t have a history and a reason to suspect it.”

“Okay, if she couldn’t breathe, was having all these awful symptoms you’ve described? Why wouldn’t she call nine-one-one?” He photographs bath salts and candles on the side of the tub. Lavender and vanilla. Eucalyptus and balsam.