A Sprinkle of Sabotage by Fiona Leitch (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

sat on the other side of the trailer, eyes wide in horror at the scene before her. There had been seven for dinner, and they’d all crammed into the small space around the table, four on the built-in seating and the rest on fold-up chairs. It can’t have been that comfortable, but it should have been intimate and fun. Except the fun had stopped and the chairs had been tipped over, as Sam and Mike knelt down next to the body on the floor.

Aiko stood by the sink, drinking a glass of water with trembling hands and looking down at Jeremy, who was sprawled out on the floor. A puddle of vomit lay next to him.

‘Oh my God…’ I said, horrified. Nathan carefully stepped around the body, then looked up at Zack, who had followed us back in.

‘Has anyone called an ambulance?’ he asked. Zack didn’t speak, still too shocked to do anything except stare at his late co-star.

‘Zack,’ I said. ‘Zack! Pull yourself together!’

‘He’s dead,’ said Sam. ‘I can’t find a pulse.’

‘We still need an ambulance,’ said Nathan firmly. He handed me his phone. ‘Call it in for me. Ring Matt Turner.’

I found the number of DS Turner and spoke to him, explaining the situation as Nathan gently but firmly ushered the other guests out of the trailer, making sure they didn’t touch anything. Kimi’s was next door, so he herded them in there and shut the door on them, then joined me back in Zack’s trailer.

‘Holy crap,’ I said, as I finished the call. Nathan nodded.

‘What the hell has gone on here?’ he said, squatting down next to Jeremy. I joined him, gingerly; I’ve seen quite a few bodies in my time but it’s never pleasant, and there was something about the tortured expression on Jeremy’s face and in his contorted, claw-like hands. Something that had begun to ring a very loud bell.

‘Oh my God…’ I said, horrified, as I realised what his twisted body reminded me of. Nathan reached out to check for a pulse in his neck and I snatched his hand out of the way. ‘Don’t touch him!’ I cried out. Nathan looked surprised. ‘There might be a possibility of contamination.’

‘What…?’

‘He’s quite clearly dead. But look at him. Look at the way his hands are clenched.’ I swallowed. ‘I’ve seen that before. Haven’t you?’

Nathan looked at me keenly. ‘What is it? What are you thinking?’

I stood up and moved to the other side of the trailer, where I couldn’t see Jeremy’s vacant staring eyes; they were freaking me out slightly. To my immense relief, Nathan stood up and joined me.

‘You remember the Salisbury poisonings?’ I asked. Nathan nodded.

‘Of course I do. The Russian guy and his daughter, and the poor local lady who died. Novichok poisoning.’ He raised an eyebrow sardonically. ‘You’re not telling me Jeremy was poisoned by Russian spies?’

‘No, of course not. But one of the Salisbury coppers got sick from touching something at the scene, so the Met taught us how to recognise the signs in case there were other attacks. There are a lot of Russians in London, you know…’ I gave a hollow laugh. ‘Daisy was already keen for me to leave the force, but that, and then the nutter with the van, they were the final straw.’ I’d left the Met after a terrorist had driven a van at a crowd of people I’d been helping to evacuate from a tube station following a hoax bomb threat. ‘Anyway, I’m no expert, but this looks like a nerve agent.’ I swallowed hard. ‘A neurotoxin. Like the toxic substance in pufferfish.’

The police came, and the ambulance, but as we already knew, it was too late for Jeremy. Scene of Crime had come along as a matter of course; they always attended, wherever possible, when an unexpected or unusual death had occurred. Nathan told them of my suspicions, and as pufferfish poisoning wasn’t exactly a common cause of death in the UK, let alone in sleepy Cornwall, every precaution was taken; I wasn’t the only one who’d had training after the Salisbury incident in 2018. The trailer was cordoned off, and officers in disposable gloves, masks, and overalls went in to examine the body. The body. It hadn’t taken long for him to go from being Jeremy to ‘the body’. It always felt wrong to me, somehow, to stop using the victim’s name so quickly. It was like you were reducing someone to the lowest common denominator: alive or dead. The deceased.

I sighed. I always get philosophical when I’m tired.

‘I know nothing about pufferfish,’ began Nathan.

‘You surprise me.’

He smiled. ‘Good, I do try. I know nothing about pufferfish, but is there any reason why Jeremy would have a reaction to it but not the others?’

I stared at him. There was a horrible feeling in my gut that had nothing to do with that over-emotional eel I’d had problems with earlier. ‘Oh God, I hadn’t even thought about that. It’s nothing to do with having an allergic reaction or anything. It’s mega toxic. If they all ate it, they’ll all get sick.’

‘So assuming all or at least some of them did eat it, why is there only one dead body on the carpet?’ asked Nathan.

‘Has anyone checked Kimi’s caravan to make sure they’re all still alive in there?’ I asked. We looked at each other, then hightailed it up the steps to the leading lady’s trailer. We nodded to PC Trelawney – or Old Davey, as he was known, despite not being that old (that’s a famous Penstowan long story) – who was stationed on the door, and went inside, half expecting to see the rest of them laid out on the floor.

Thankfully, they weren’t. Everyone was sitting quietly, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Zack and Aiko sat together, holding hands, which made me feel glad for a moment, although quite how she would react when we told them what we suspected the cause of death to be, I didn’t