Sunday, July 17, 2011

Dead Rite chapter 68.01

Inspector White put his foot down on the way to the morgue. “That's how he did it, Peters. We need a poisons expert. I'll prove Waterman's a murderer, you see if I don't.”

“I'm not convinced sir.” Peters braced himself in the passenger seat. “Didn't Eric already say there were no poisons in the body?”

“He did, yes, but he wasn't testing for all those herbal ones we've just been looking at, did he? I want a botanical expert up at the house to make a list of all those poisonous plants, then I want it cross-referenced with all the symptoms and toxin results. Yo mark my words. There'll be something in that garden that leaved no pathological trace.” He glanced across, frowning at the sergeant's ramrod-straight legs. “Are you making a comment about my driving?”

“No sir. Wouldn't cross my mind.”

“Only you seem to be bracing yourself against the dash.”

“Am I sir?” Peters didn't move his gaze from the windscreen. “I don't mean to. I'm just not used to driving at these speeds without running blues and twos.”

“No need for the siren, sergeant. I'm a perfectly capable drive. I have passed the police pursuit course, you know.”

“Yes sir. I've seen the certificate in your office.”

“And locking your legs straight would only cause more damage were some fool hit us.”

“Yes sir. I know that intellectually, but my body's in full panic mode. No offence meant.”

White had to take his foot off the accelerator. When they passed to sign for thirty miles per hour he slowed to a careful fifty. “None taken, I suppose.”

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