Deadly Clementine

Ben moved over to the dresser and lifted the lid off the fruit cake.

“Don’t touch it,” Moss snapped.

“I don’t intend to,” Ben smirked. He removed his penknife and cut a small piece off. Stabbing it, he lifted it to his nose and took a sniff.

“Can you smell anything?”

“Fruit cake,” Ben snorted. “But there is also the odour of something raw.”

“Raw?”

Ben sniffed again.

“Careful with that stuff. I took one mouthful and the damned thing took hold of the back of my throat and refused to let go until I threw up. I also took a couple of sniffs and then was violently sick.”

“How swiftly have the victims been killed?” Ben asked, changing the subject.

“Well, they have all been fit and healthy, but within an hour at the most have died unexpectedly, all from an apparent seizure.”

Ben nodded. He sniffed the cake again and stared blankly off into space.

“Can anything kill that fast?”

“Oh, yes,” Ben replied firmly. “The only thing I can think of that smells like this, though, is mushrooms. Some varieties are so potent that they can kill within minutes of being ingested. They could be disguised in fruit cake, if chopped up finely enough. The grainy properties of the fruit, if chopped as well, would mask the unusual texture of the mushrooms. The dark colour of the cake would mask the dark colour of the mushrooms. It’s

perfect really, and very, very, clever.”

“Good God,” Moss whispered. “How in the Hell would anybody know which mushrooms to use?”

“If you live in the countryside, you would be told which mushrooms not to touch by your parents I expect. Anybody who wishes to kill someone, either slowly or swiftly, could just feed someone a mushroom they know is poisonous. Guess what, their victim will die – eventually,” Ben informed him.

“So, I am looking for someone who knows something about which mushrooms kill,” Moss whispered. “That could be half the damned village.”

He knew the culprit could still be Clementine, even though his heart shied away from considering she would be that callous. His gut warned him that she couldn’t do something this cruel, especially given how sweetly she had blushed and been thrilled by the kiss they had shared only yesterday.

But she did know all the victims. She was the last one to see them all alive. She has lived in the countryside all her life, and might know about mushrooms.

“Is it possible to find out what kind of mushrooms would kill, or might have been put into that thing?” Moss asked.

Ben nodded. “I need to take this. I have a friend who knows all about poisons and the like, including the kind of fungi that would kill someone and cause a fit.” Ben looked sharply at Moss. “You don’t feel about to pass out, do you?”

“God, no,” Moss sighed. “But yesterday I did. I truly didn’t think I was going to make it. This thing struck so swiftly that if I had eaten the whole slice, or even several more mouthfuls, I would have been killed within minutes.”

A heavy silence fell between the men for several minutes.

“It’s how the victims were killed.”

It wasn’t a question and didn’t need Ben to confirm it, but the doctor nodded slowly anyway. “It appears so.” Ben carefully repositioned the lid to the makeshift cake box and turned to Moss. “You had a lucky escape. Do you know who might want you dead?”

As a good friend of Moss’s, Doctor Kilmarnock had no qualms about resting his hips against the dresser beside the door in a casual pose that was devoid of all social pomposity. The atmosphere between him and Moss was casual and consequently allowed both men to talk freely.

“Someone I thought was friendly.”

“I shall have a look at the cake and see if I can find out a little more about its contents,” the doctor advised. “I don’t think it is cyanide or strychnine. That musty smell is a little like mushrooms.”

“Just make sure the damned thing is put in isolation. Are you sure you are going to be able to identify what is in it?”

“It might take me some time,” Benjamin replied honestly.