Implant (DI Gardener 3)

“I’d appreciate it if you did. And if Robert Sinclair makes an appearance, I want you to call me immediately.” Gardener handed over a card.

“What’s going on?” demanded Ross. “Is Robert in some sort of trouble?”

“Just do as I ask, Mr Ross. And to see that you do, I am posting two of my officers on the door.”

“Do I need to call my solicitor?”

“We’re not arresting or detaining you. It’s Sinclair we want to talk to. All we’re asking for is your cooperation.”

“What’s he supposed to have done?”

Gardener didn’t answer the question. He had more important matters to attend to.

Chapter Fifty-four

The two detectives entered the theatre in the mortuary. There were four steel gurneys, and although three were occupied, Fitz was working alone on the body of Gary Close. The young man had been opened up in the usual manner, with a Y-shaped incision into the chest cavity.

As Gardener closed the door he could smell the formaldehyde, and chose to remain near Fitz’s office door, where he could smell something much better in the form of fresh coffee.

The pathologist turned and greeted them both. “Are you joining me over here?”

“No,” replied both men in unison.

Gardener had had his fill of these places. He’d seen the inside of more dead bodies than he cared to remember and had no desire to see another. Especially one so young as Gary Close, who, despite his age, had had more than his fair share of tragedy. If ever Gardener thought he was hard done by, he would only have to stop and think about Gary Close.

Fitz moved away from the body and disrobed, throwing his green gown and gloves in the bin. He washed his hands at the sink and guided them both into his office.

He poured three coffees and placed them on the desk.

“What have you found?” asked Gardener.

“I removed this from his leg.” Fitz passed over a tiny capsule that was not really much bigger than a standard antibiotic. It was transparent, and Gardener could quite clearly see a micro SIM card inserted in one half. He couldn’t imagine what compound the other half would have been filled with. Why else would Gary Close have suffocated?

“As you can see, our friend with his devastating Bluetooth technique has been up to his tricks again.”

“What’s happened? What was in there?”

“I wondered at first whether or not it was acute cyanide poisoning, but that usually takes a lot longer, and causes a red or ruddy complexion because the tissues are not able to use the oxygen in the blood.

“However, just before you arrived, I managed to run a couple of tests, and I’m pretty sure it’s botulinum toxin, a protein produced by the bacterium clostridium botulinum. It’s extremely neurotoxic.”

“What the hell is that?” asked Reilly.

“You or I would know it by the trade names, Botox or Dysport.”

“Botox?” repeated Gardener. “I thought that was used to treat wrinkles.”

“It is used for various cosmetic and medical procedures. It’s also one of the most powerful poisons known to man. A tiny amount used in the wrong place would cause respiratory failure due to the paralysis of the respiratory muscles, which is exactly what happened to young Close out there. And I reckon it will have killed him within five to ten minutes.”

“So, Gary’s driving along in his car, going where, we’re not sure, when his phone rings. That sets off the Bluetooth signal, activates the chip, which sends out the poison. The killer doesn’t have to lift a finger other than call him.”

“I think you’re on the right line,” replied the pathologist, sipping his coffee.

Gardener sighed. “Which brings us back to Robert Sinclair and his insurance policy.”

“Looks that way,” said Reilly. “Close and Sinclair were working together. I wouldn’t mind betting Sinclair had a hold over Gary through his mother.”

“Especially when you consider Adam and Gary were friends. It must have been a bonus to Sinclair to have someone so close, and be a policeman as well.”