Robert Ludlum – The Sigma Protocol

“Uh, up north.”

He gave a short nasal snort of amusement at her secrecy. “I see. Well,

what can you tell me about the victims?”

“Old. How do you kill someone undetectably?”

A throaty chuckle. “Just break up with him, Anna. You don’t have to

kill him.” This was his way of flirting.

“What about the old bolus of potassium chloride?” she said, politely

ignoring his joke. “Stops the heart, right? Barely changes the body’s

overall potassium level, so it’s undetectable?”

“Was he on an IV?” Higgins asked.

“I don’t think so. We didn’t find any of the usual puncture marks.”

“Then I doubt it. It’s far too messy. If he wasn’t on an IV, you’d

have to inject it right into a vein, and you’d find blood spewed all

over the place. Not to mention signs of a struggle.”

She took notes in her tiny leather-bound notebook.

“It was sudden, right? So we can rule out long-term heavy metal

poisoning. Too gradual. Do you mind if I go get a cup of coffee?”

“Go ahead.” She smiled to herself. He knew this stuff cold.

He returned in less than a minute. “Speaking of coffee,” he said. “It’s

either something in their drink or their food, or else an injection.”

“But we didn’t find any puncture marks. And believe me, we went over

that body carefully.”

“If they used a 25-gauge needle you won’t see it, probably. And there’s

always sux.”

She knew he meant succinylcholine chloride, synthetic curare. “Think

so?”

“Famous case back in ’67 or ’68 a doctor in Florida was convicted of

murdering his wife with sux, which I’m sure you know is a skeletal

muscle relaxant. You can’t move, can’t breathe. Looks like cardiac

arrest. Famous trial, baffled forensic experts around the world.”

She jotted a note.

“There’s a long list of skeletal muscle relaxants, all with different

properties. Of course, you know, with old folks, anything can tip ’em

over the edge. A little too much nitroglycerin will do it.”

“Under the tongue, right?”

“Usually… But there’s ampules of, say, amyl nitrite that could kill

you if inhaled. Poppers. Or butyl nitrite. You get a major

vasodilator response, drops their blood pressure, they keel over and

die.”

She wrote furiously.

“There’s even Spanish fly,” he said with a cackle. “Too much can kill

you. I think it’s called cantharidin.”

“The guy was eighty-seven.”

“All the more reason he might need an aphrodisiac.”

“I don’t want to think about that.”

“Was he a smoker?”

“Don’t know yet. I guess we’ll see from the lungs. Why do you ask?”

“There’s an interesting case I just worked on. Some old folks in South

Africa. They were killed with nicotine.”

“Nicotine?”

“You don’t have to give that much.”

“How?”

“It’s a liquid. Bitter taste, but it can be disguised. Can also be

injected. Death comes within minutes.”

“In a smoker you can’t tell, is that it?”

“You gotta be clever. I figured this out. The whole issue is the

amount of nicotine in the blood versus its metabolites. What nicotine

turns into after a while–”

“I know.”

“In a smoker, you see a lot more of the metabolites than pure nicotine.

If it’s acute poisoning, you’ll see a whole lot more nicotine and a lot

less metabolites.”

“What should I expect from the tox?”

“A normal toxicology screen is set up to detect drugs of abuse. Opiates,

synthetic opiates, morphine, cocaine, LSD, Darvon. PCP, amphetamine.

Benzodiazepines–Valium–and barbiturates. Sometimes tricyclic

antidepressants. Ask ’em to do the full tox screen plus all these

others. Chloral hydrate’s not on the screen, order that. Placidyl, an

old sleeping drug. Screen for barbiturates, sleeping drugs. Fentanyl’s

extremely hard to detect. Organophosphates–insecticides. DMSO–dim

ethyl sulfoxide-used on horses. See what you come up with. I assume

they’re going to be doing G.C. Mass. Spec.”

“I don’t know. What’s that?”

“Gas chromatography, mass spectrometry. It’s the gold standard. How

rural are you?”

“A city. Canada, actually.”

“Oh, RCMP is good. Their crime labs are far better than ours, but don’t

quote me on that. Just make sure they check for anything in the local

water or wells that might skew the tox. You said the body’s embalmed,

right? Have ’em get a sample of the embalming fluid and sub tract it

out. Ask ’em to do a full tox–blood, tissue, hair. Some proteins are

fat soluble. Cocaine stores in the heart tissue, keep that in mind. The

liver’s a sponge.”

“How long are all these tests going to take?”

“Weeks. Months.”

“No way.” Her exhilaration over talking with him suddenly waned. Now

she was depressed.

“It’s true. Then again, you might get lucky. Could be months, or it

could be a day. But if you don’t know exactly what poison you’re

looking for, odds are you’re never going to find it.”

“There’s every evidence he died naturally,” Higgins announced when she’d

returned to the lab. “Cardiac arrhythmia, probably. Arteriosclerosis,

of course. An old MI there.”

Mailhot’s face had been pulled down from the top of the scalp, like a

latex mask. The top of his head was open, the pink ridges of brain

visible. Anna thought she might be sick. She saw a lung on a hanging

scale. “How heavy?” she asked, pointing.

He smiled in appreciation. “Light. Two hundred forty grams. Not

congested.”

“So he died quickly. We can rule out a CNS depressant.”

“As I said, it looks like a heart attack.” Higgins seemed to be running

out of patience.

She told him what she wanted from the toxicology screen, reading off her

notes. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Do you have any idea how costly

this is going to be?”

She exhaled. “The U.S. government will pick up the cost, of course. I

need to do this one thoroughly. If I don’t find it now, it’s likely I

never will. Now I need to ask a favor.”

He looked at her steadily. She sensed his annoyance.

“I’m going to ask you to flay the body.”

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

“May I remind you, Agent Navarro, that the widow wants an open casket

funeral?”

“All they see are the hands and face, right?” To flay the body meant to

remove all the skin, in large chunks so it could be sewn back together.

This enabled you to examine the subcutaneous skin. Sometimes this was

the only way to discover injection marks. “Unless you object,” she

said. “I’m just a visiting fireman.”

Higgins’s face flushed. He turned to the body, jabbing in the scalpel a

bit too violently, and began removing the skin.

Anna felt light-headed. Once again she was afraid she might be sick.

She left the morgue and returned to the corridor in search of the rest

room. Ron Arsenault approached, clutching a giant cup of take-out

coffee. “Are we still slicing and dicing in there?” he asked, his good

humor seemingly restored.

“Worse than ever. We’re flaying the skin.”

“You can’t take it either?”

“I’m just using the little girl’s room.”

He looked skeptical. “No luck so far, I take it.”

She shook her head, frowned.

He shook his head. “Don’t you Yanks believe in old age?”

“I’ll be right back,” she said coolly.

She splashed her face with cold water from the sink, realizing too late

that there were no paper towels here, only one of those hot-air hand

dryers that never worked. She groaned, went to a stall, pulled a length

of toilet paper off the roll, and blotted her face with the tissue,

leaving white shreds here and there on her face. She looked in the

mirror, noticed the dark circles under her eyes, flecked off the strings

of toilet paper, reapplied her makeup and returned to Arsenault feeling

refreshed.

“He’s asking for you,” Arsenault said, excited.

Higgins held up a leathery yellow sheet of skin about three inches

square as if it were a trophy. “You’re lucky I did the hands, too,” he

said. “I’m going to catch hell from the funeral-home director, but

presumably they’ve got makeup they can cake on to cover the mending.”

“What is it?” she asked, heartbeat accelerating.

“The back of the hand. The web of the thumb, the abduct or pollucis.

Take a look at this.”

She came closer, as did Arsenault, but she saw nothing. Higgins pulled

the magnifying glass from the examination table. “You see this little

purplish-red flare, about half an inch long? Sort of flame-shaped?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s your injection mark. Believe me, that’s not where any nurse or

doctor puts a syringe. You may have something, after all.”

CHAPTER TEN.

Bedford, New York

Max Hartman sat in his high-backed leather desk chair, in the book lined

library where he usually received visitors. It was strange, Ben

thought, the way his father chose to sit behind the barrier of his

immense leather-topped mahogany desk, even when meeting with his own

son.

In the tall chair the old man, once tall and strong, looked wizened,

almost gnome like surely not the effect he’d intended. Ben sat on a

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *