Pretty Poison

children or pets who may not know the difference, be sure the plants you pick for your home or garden aren’t toxic. I’ve shown you a few species to beware. Consult a good botanical guide or call your local poison control center if you aren’t sure. Are there any questions?”

“Wouldn’t it be better not to sell plants that are poisonous?” a young woman asked from the audience.

“Possibly,” Peggy acknowledged. “But how many things in our homes could be harmful? You wouldn’t let your two-year-old play with matches either. Or put antifreeze out in a pail for your dog to drink. Some common sense is warranted with everything, including plants.”

Peggy fielded questions for half an hour before she called for the last question as the dean made wrapping up motions with his hands.

“Could any of these plants be used to kill someone?” a man asked from the back of the auditorium. His face was hidden in the shadow of the spotlight they used for plays.

“It’s possible,” she answered. “People are notorious for finding any means to an end, aren’t they?” The audience laughed, and she thanked them for coming. She glanced back out into the crowd. The man who asked the final question was gone. She shivered, always wondering if she was giving away the seeds of someone’s destruction.

As the group broke up, Peggy was surrounded by her students and other members of the audience who wanted to ask her more questions. She saw a familiar face from the corner of her eye; the man in the green Saturn she ran into that morning.

He smiled and began to weave through the crowd toward her. Peggy felt a little flutter in her chest. Since she knew it couldn’t be excitement at seeing him again, she put it down to indigestion.

Before he could reach her, another man stepped between them. “Dr. Lee? My name is Hal Samson. I’m from Columbia, South Carolina. I wonder if I could bend your ear about a case I’m working on right now.”

Peggy looked past the jostling students making jokes about poisoning obnoxious professors. The man from the Saturn was gone. A small sense of disappointment nipped at her and was quickly pushed aside. It was ridiculous anyway. She should know better. The man was at least ten years younger than her. Even if she was romantically interested in him, which she wasn’t, what could he possibly see in her? It was just a coincidence that he was there.

“Dr. Lee?”

She glanced at the heavily bearded man who adjusted his glasses self-consciously and straightened his stained tie. “Excuse me, Mr. Samson?”

“Dr. Samson, actually.” He chuckled in embarrassment. “I know this is a bad place. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t urgent. I assure you, I would’ve gone through the proper channels.”

Peggy reached for her cape from behind the podium. “Nonsense! You can buy me a cup of coffee at the cafeteria, and we can talk.”

Over large mugs of strong brew, Dr. Samson explained his dilemma. “She presented with signs of liver and kidney failure, depressed circulation, vomiting, diarrhea. She was hypothermic. We admitted her right away and did a workup on her. I thought it was last-stage liver disease until her husband told me that she was perfectly healthy the day before.”

She looked at the twenty-four-year-old woman’s file. “I assume you’ve come all this way because you learned it was poison instead.”

“Tox screen analysis found traces of protoanemonin in her system.” He stirred more sugar into his coffee. “It’s not something we see much of. Poison, I mean. I immediately questioned the husband about what she’d been doing prior to her illness. He told me she went to work and didn’t feel well when she came home. Her symptoms became worse as time passed until he finally brought her to the hospital. I thought it might be an accidental poisoning. Maybe she worked at a nursery or greenhouse.”

“Anemonin isn’t an accidental poisoning,” Peggy said. “She couldn’t get it from working with plants.”

“I don’t mind bringing the police in on it, if that’s the case. But my concern right now is for the patient. She won’t last much longer. I have no idea where she got the anemonin or how she was exposed. Her eyes or skin don’t show any sign of irritation. I’ve used activated charcoal to flush her stomach, but that’s probably too little, too late. I’m keeping her going with heart and respiratory stimulants.”

Peggy studied the photo of the attractive young woman. “How long has it been?”

“She’s been in my care for about eighteen hours. Her husband says they thought she had the flu. I’m running out of time.”

“You’ve done everything you can, Dr. Samson. Without knowing the size of the dose or how it was administered, no one could do any better. There’s no real antidote, although I have heard of ginseng being helpful in some cases. It must’ve been a small dose or she’d be dead already. If she makes it through the next twenty-four hours, she has a chance of recovery.”

He picked up the photo from the file. “She’s a lovely girl. Her husband says they were trying to start a family. They’ve been married for two years. Are you sure this couldn’t be an accident, Dr. Lee?”

“There’s no accident to it, Dr. Samson. It’s a difficult and lengthy process to come up with anemonin in its purest, crystal form. I hope she recovers so she can tell you how she was poisoned.” She looked at the hospital chart again. It was disturbing to think that someone would do such a thing, but she knew it happened.

It was after nine when they walked out of the cafeteria. Peggy pulled her cape around her and shivered in the breeze that rattled down the street.

“Can I drop you somewhere, Dr. Lee?”

“No, thanks. I don’t live far from here. And please call me Peggy.”

Samson smiled. “All right. If you’ll call me Hal. I’ll be happy to keep you posted on my patient’s progress. Maybe there’s a logical explanation for the whole thing.”

She held out her hand. “I’d appreciate that, Hal. If there’s anything else I can do or you have any other questions, I’ll be glad to help. I’ll send you that information about ginseng, if you like.”