her carefully controlled voice.
My brain had finally accessed the relevant information. ‘Give me five minutes, Chris,’ I said.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He’s not at all well, Kate.’
‘Please. Five minutes, max.’ I cut off the connection before Chris could argue any more. I pulled up with a screech of rubber and the blast of a horn from the car behind. I flipped open my filofax and found the number I was looking for. I punched the number into the phone and moved back into the traffic. Sinful, I know, but getting to Davy was a greater imperative than the interests of other road users.
If anyone could help me, it was Dr Beth Taylor. Beth divides her time between an inner-city group practice and a part-time lectureship at the university in medical ethics. A few years ago, she had a fling with Bill which lasted about three months, which is probably a record for my business partner. Now, she’s Mortensen and Brannigan’s first port of call whenever we’re investigating medical insurance claims. She also repairs broken bits of Brannigan from time to time.
The phone answered on the second ring. ‘This is Beth,’ the distant voice said. ‘I’m not here right now, but if you want me to call you back you can leave a message after the tone. If it’s urgent, you can try me on my mobile, which is…’ I keyed the number into the phone as she recited it, then ended the call and dialled her mobile, praying to God she not only had it with her but was also in a decent reception area.
The phone rang once, twice, three times. ‘Hello, Beth Taylor.’ I’d never heard a more welcome sound.
‘Beth? It’s Kate Brannigan.’
‘Hi, Kate! Long time no see. Which I suppose is a good thing, in your case. Is this a professional call? Only, I’m on my way to play hockey.’
I bit back the frustrated sigh. ‘It’s an emergency, Beth.’
‘What have you done this time?’ Underneath the warm humour in her voice, there was no mistaking the concern.
‘It’s not me. It’s my partner’s son. The friends who are looking after him think he might have been given drugs.’
‘Then it’s not me you want, Kate, it’s the casualty department at MRI. You should know that.’
‘Beth, I can’t. Look, I can’t explain now, not because I’m not prepared to, but because there isn’t time. Please, Beth, I
‘If it’s drugs, it could well be that,’ Beth warned.
‘I know, I know. But please, you’re the only doctor I know well enough to trust with this.’
There was a moment’s silence. ‘I shouldn’t do this,’ she said with a sigh. ‘It’s against all my better judgement.’
‘You’ll go?’
‘I’ll go. Where is he?’
‘He’s at my house. You remember it?’
‘I remember,’ Beth said. ‘I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Oh, and Kate?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You owe Crumpsall Ladies Hockey Club a round of drinks for every five minutes I’m late for the game.’ The phone went dead before I could tell Beth it would be worth every penny.
I rang Chris straight back and told her Beth was on her way. The relief in her voice told me exactly how much fear she’d been hiding when she’d spoken to me before. ‘Thank God!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s just been sick. We’re really scared, Kate.’
‘It’s not your fault, Chris. This would have happened whether Richard had been there or not, believe me. Look, phone me if there’s any change, OK? I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
I might have broken all records driving to Sheffield. But I shattered them driving back.
I barrelled through my front door like the Incredible Hulk on speed. There wasn’t a sound from anywhere, and it took me less than ten seconds to discover they weren’t in the house. I ran through the conservatory and yanked open the patio doors leading to Richard’s living room. Still no one. By now, I was convinced they’d had to rush him to hospital. All the way home, I’d been plagued by a vision of Davy lying in the subdued lighting of intensive care, more tubes than Central London coursing in and out of his little body.
I crossed the room in half a dozen strides and hauled the door open, cannoning into Chris, who stepped backwards into Beth, who continued the domino effect with Alexis. ‘Ssh,’ Beth said before I could say a word. I backed into the living room and the other three trooped behind me. Alexis shut the door.
‘How is he? What’s happening?’ I demanded.
‘Calm down,’ Beth instructed. ‘Three deep breaths.’ I did what she told me. I even sat down. ‘Davy’s going to be fine. I’ve just given him a mild sedative and tranquillizer which have calmed him down and sent him to sleep. He’ll probably be more or less zonked out till morning. He might feel a bit groggy tomorrow, but basically he’ll be OK.’
‘What was the matter? What happened?’ I asked.
‘He presented like someone who has absorbed a significant amount of an hallucinogenic drug,’ Beth said. ‘Nothing life-threatening, thank God.’
‘But how? Where did he get it from? He only went out to play with a couple of other kids from the estate! Who’d feed drugs like that to kids?’
‘I said “absorbed” advisedly,’ Beth said. She ran a hand through her spiky blonde hair and frowned. ‘You know those temporary tattoos that kids use? They wet the transfers and the pictures slide off on to their skin?’
I nodded impatiently. ‘Yeah, yeah, Davy loves them. Some nights he gets in the bath looking like the Illustrated Man.’
‘Did he have any transfers on his body this morning when he went out?’
‘Not that I noticed,’ I said. ‘Did either of you notice last night?’
Chris and Alexis both shook their heads.
‘He must have thirty or forty on his arms or chest now,’ Beth said. ‘And that’s the source of the problem, I reckon. I’ve heard of a couple of cases like this, though I’ve not actually seen one before.’
‘But I don’t understand. It can’t be something in the transfers, surely. He often has them covering the whole of his arms and his chest. He’s crazy about them, like I said. He’ll put on as many as Richard will buy for him.’
Beth sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s not the transfers as such. It’s what’s been done to them. They’ve been doctored. They’ve been impregnated with a drug not unlike acid or Ecstasy, probably one that’s been designed to provide a feeling of mild euphoria, general friendliness and energy. But taken in the dose Davy seems to have absorbed, it also produces hallucinations. We dumped him in the bath and washed them all off so he won’t absorb any more, and luckily he seems to have had a pleasant trip rather than a terrifying one.’
Beth’s words seemed to reverberate long after she’d finished speaking. None of us seemed able to come up with an adequate response. Finally, it was Alexis’s journalistic instincts that hit the ground running ahead of my private investigator’s. ‘What do they look like, these transfers?’ she asked.
‘Some are geometric. Blue and gold stars, about the size of a 10p. Red and pink triangles, too. Others have pictures of clowns, cars, Batman and Superman logos and dinosaurs. The only difference between them and the straight ones is the packaging, so I’ve been told. Apparently the dodgy ones come in little foil packets, like those individual biscuits you get on aeroplanes. Sorry, I don’t know any more than that.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve not heard about this on the grapevine,’ Alexis said, outraged.
‘She’s a journo,’ I explained to Beth.
‘Why haven’t there been any warnings about this?’ Alexis continued. ‘It’s scandalous.’
‘Presumably, the powers that be didn’t want to start a panic,’ Beth said. ‘I can understand why, since it seems to be such a rarity.’
‘Never mind the story, Alexis. What about Davy? Will he definitely be OK?’ Chris demanded.
‘He’ll be absolutely fine, I promise you. In future, make sure he finds another bunch of friends to play with. Look, I’ve got to run. My hockey match starts in ten minutes. I’ll swing by tomorrow morning, just to be on the safe side, but the best thing you can do is let him sleep it off in peace.’
Beth’s departure left us in an awkward silence. Alexis broke it. ‘It’s nobody’s fault,’ she said. ‘We’re all going
