White Corridor

recommended by Monsieur Alphonse for one of our rejuvenation courses?” he said, checking his PDA.

“I won’t be on the system yet,” said Longbright. “I only just saw him this morning. You come very highly recommended. A friend’s daughter has been receiving treatment here, a girl called Lilith Starr. I wonder, how is she doing?”

Clearly, the conversation had taken a turn for which he had not been prepared. A momentary fluster occurred in his composure before he returned to form. “I’m not sure I know who you mean-‘

“You must do. She was personally recommended by Mr. Spender.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be my area. I only handle induction. Besides, our client details are confidential.”

“But if you conduct all the inductions, you must have seen her.”

Juan-Luis sighed. Clearly, the subject was not going to go away. “I think she is no longer with us.”

“Really? I find that surprising, as she was singled out for special attention.”

“I heard the treatment proved unsuitable for her. A medical condition-‘

“Surely your treatments don’t require a doctor’s intervention…‘

“Everyone has to fill out an approval form, and she omitted to tell us about certain-ah-medications.”

“You mean not just prescription drugs but others associated with-‘

“-lifestyle choices. That’s correct.”

So he knows about her habit, thought Longbright. “But I thought she came to you for several treatments. My friend said-‘

“Look, as soon as we discovered she had filled the form in falsely, we cancelled her appointments.”

“Why would you do that, I mean if she had made her own choices-‘

“Because there are diets, exercise regimes and supplements we prefer our clients to take, and obviously we can’t risk their health.”

Or the lawsuits, thought Longbright. “So what was wrong with her?”

Juan-Luis could see she would not rest until he had provided satisfactory information, and he badly needed to hit this week’s client quota. He set aside his PDA and lowered his voice. “Apart from the recreational drugs she chose to use, she had been taking Haldol since she was a child. It’s a drug formerly used to control behavioral problems in children.”

“You mean her parents had it prescribed for her?”

“I imagine so, but it should have been stopped, because it has long been known to pose health risks, like low blood pressure and even cardiac arrest, and there’s potential cross-reaction with other chemicals that makes it unsafe at any dosage. Unfortunately, Haldol can also be addictive.”

“Do you prescribe drugs for your patients, antiageing potions, anything like that?”

“You’re a police officer, aren’t you.” He offered the statement as a matter of fact. “Listen, it’s not my company, I have no vested interests here, but I can tell you the rules are strictly adhered to. We provide our clients with medical supervision in the form of advice and, in certain cases, dietary aids. We never suggest they can stave off illness and live forever just by changing their diet and exercising more, like some clubs promise, but we show them how they can live healthier, more active lives for longer.”

“But in your brochure you recommend homeopathic remedies.”

“We make no claims that they’ll perform miracles, but I admit, sometimes women want to believe more than we can promise.” He shrugged. “It’s up to them.”

As she left the clinic, Longbright tried to make sense of what she had learned. It was possible that Lilith had not died as a direct result of her drug use, in which case someone else might have felt responsible for her death.

She returned to the unit and sought out Giles Kershaw. An idea had begun to form in her head, but it was one that could lead them all into trouble, for it meant lodging an accusation against a fellow officer.

40

PERFORMING THE IMPOSSIBLE

“I feel like I might be heading down the wrong route with this,” Longbright told the pathologist. “We have definitely discounted the most likely causes, haven’t we?”

“I told you that,” said Kershaw, falling in beside her as they headed through the unit. “The primary blow to his chest is the one that initiated the seizure. The neck bruise is secondary.”

“Then I need to run something by you.”

“Try me.”

“Suppose someone other than Mills came to the mortuary to check on Lilith Starr, and ended up arguing with Oswald Finch about her cause of death? By that time, Finch’s notes had already been removed, although Mills still insists it wasn’t him. What if Finch set down the true cause of her death, and it laid the blame at someone else’s door-God knows, Oswald was never afraid to accuse others. That would place Mills in the clear, but who would it point to?”

“Not a member of the PCU staff,” Kershaw remarked, “because none of them knew the victim. What about her parents?”

“Highly unlikely, don’t you think? Our pugnacious Sergeant Renfield was the one who brought her in. Finch might have threatened to report him for some minor transgression. He had the power to do so. A lot of senior officers in the Met held him in the highest regard. Plus, Renfield and Finch had always hated each other.”

“Renfield prides himself on playing by the book. He would have been mortified to be reported by a man he considered his enemy.”

Longbright felt she was finally on the right track. “I think Renfield returned to the mortuary for some reason, and found Finch writing up a report that accused him of failure to carry out correct procedure.”

“The sergeant certainly has the right temperament,” Kershaw admitted.

“Hadn’t he once been placed on a month’s paid leave for attacking another officer? Finch would probably have goaded him. You know how he liked to wind people up. Suppose he realised that the girl could have been saved if Renfield had acted differently? What was he doing accompanying a body to the morgue anyway? If Lilith Starr wasn’t just another Camden overdose after all, Renfield should have noticed something and called in medics at once. Imagine Finch spotting that. He challenges the sergeant, the limit of Renfield’s patience is reached, and he gives Finch a little happy-slap…‘

“But the pathologist is old and infirm, and the effect on him is more drastic than intended.” Kershaw seized on the idea, taking it further. “He collapses on the floor. Renfield panics, looks about the room, sees the loose ceiling- fan cover and decides to make it look like an accident. He leaves the room, closing the door behind him.”

“You realize what will happen if we try to take him in as a suspect,” warned Longbright. “All these years we’ve spent attempting to heal the rift between the PCU and the Metropolitan Police. We’ll have to fight them head- on.”

“The Princess Royal’s visit is scheduled to commence in precisely five hours, but I see little sign of preparation for her appearance,” said Rosemary Armstrong, the royal appointments secretary. Upon her arrival she had glanced about the unit with a vaguely horrified air before flicking a handkerchief over the chair April had offered her. A search had commenced to locate a teacup, but April had only been able to produce a clean mug bearing the shield of St Crispin’s Boys’ School that Bryant had swiped in the course of their last investigation.

“We are a working unit,” said April, “and today is especially busy. We’re short-staffed, and-‘

“Yes, yes.” Armstrong impatiently waved the thought aside. “I’m sure we all have lots of work to do, yes? But by this evening the Princess will be quite fatigued, and in no mood for a poor show. Last night she had to sit through a performance of The Marriage of Figaro that could, with the utmost charity, have best been described as pedestrian, and today she is required to unveil a plaque dedicated to the Dagenham Girl Pipers before attending your presentation. Few people can imagine the stamina required to handle her responsibilities.” She rose and peered from the corner window overlooking the road. “What on earth is that down there?”

“It’s Camden High Street.”

“What a pity. Does it always look like that?”