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  The printer whirred beside her desk. He watched while the tray filled with paper. When it stopped, she picked up the sheets and separated them into two piles which she secured with staples.

  “There you go. Two autopsy reports.”

  Bryce scanned them quickly. Neither of them listed poisoning as the cause of death. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or not.

  “So, do they help or hinder you?” Samantha asked with a smile.

  “Would you still have blood and tissue samples from these women on file?”

  “Sure, those autopsies were done seven weeks ago.”

  “Is it possible to test them for poisons?”

  “Of course. Do you think there’s a connection with the PM we did today?”

  Bryce pursed his lips. “I don’t know, but my gut’s telling me we need to look into the possibility. Would you mind?”

  “No. I tell you what, I’ll run the same tests on them that I’ve ordered for Eileen Green. It’ll take at least a day or two, though.”

  “I can live with that.”

  He stuck out his hand and she shook it. “Thank you for your time today, Doctor Wolfe. I really appreciate it,” he said and meant it.

  “You’re welcome to join me over a PM anytime, Detective,” she replied with a smile. “It’s been fun.”

  Bryce tried not to grimace at what he assumed was a joke. He managed a nod and then made his way out of the room, past the other offices and out the exit, grateful to be heading into the fresh air and sunshine.

  Once outside, he filled his lungs. Even the pollution from the passing cars was better than the unsettling smell of death and formaldehyde. He headed back to where he’d parked the unmarked police car and opened the door. The heat of the car was a welcome change from the chilly conditions in the morgue. He climbed into the driver’s seat, tugged out his phone and called Holt.

  “Bryce, how are you doing?”

  “Good, boss. I’m outside the morgue. I just got done with the Green autopsy.”

  “Yeah, Jett told me you’d taken it easy on him. That was kind of you, but he’s got to learn sooner or later. It’s not easy for any of us and I don’t think it matters how many you watch.”

  Bryce let the reprimand wash over him. Holt wasn’t mad. Not really. He just didn’t want anyone taking it easy on his men. Jett had only transferred to their station a few months earlier. As far as Holt was concerned, he needed to earn his keep. Bryce, on the other hand, was prepared to cut his new partner a little slack and if that meant letting him play hooky from a post mortem, he didn’t see the harm in it.

  “How did it go, anyway?” Holt continued, his voice a little less gruff.

  Bryce drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Samantha Wolfe did the post mortem. She’s waiting for the lab results, but she thinks the senator’s wife was poisoned.”

  “Shit. That’s just what we need.”

  “Yeah. It’ll take a day or so to know what kind of poison did the damage, but she’s almost certain poisoning is the cause of death.”

  “So the senator was right. His wife was murdered.”

  “It sure appears that way.”

  “What do we know about the other two?”

  “Nothing helpful, as yet. I got hold of the autopsy reports. Neither of them list poisoning as the cause of death. I explained to Samantha there might be a connection with the senator’s wife and the good doctor agreed to test their tissue and blood samples for poisons.”

  “Who did those autopsies?”

  “Doctor Harry Wiseman. I’ve dealt with him in the past. He’s been there forever and unfortunately, has a reputation for delivering less than stellar performances. Too bad it wasn’t Samantha. We wouldn’t have to guess how accurate the reports are.”

  “I thought she was out at Westmead? What’s she doing at Glebe?”

  “She transferred about six months ago. I’m not sure what prompted it. I remember someone saying she wanted to be closer to the city.”

  “Well, I’m just grateful we got her this time around. We have every media outlet in the city watching our every move, not to mention the calls I’ve taken from the police commissioner and the State premier this morning. Both of them are concerned about where this might be heading. We need to dot the I’s and cross every T. You can be assured every aspect of this investigation will be scrutinized from top to bottom.”

  “I understand, boss. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything rash. We’ve got a day or two before the official cause of death will be known. Until then, I’ll do my best to keep a lid on it.”

  “Talk to the hospital. Impress upon them that it’s in everyone’s best interests for them to cooperate with us in a discreet manner. Get a hold of the medical records of all three women. We want to be prepared if something shows up in the lab results. Let me know as soon as you hear anything.”

  “Will do.”

  Bryce ended the call. The first thing on his list was another visit to the hospital. He waited for the usual feeling of dread to manifest itself in his gut, but it didn’t happen. Instead, his heart leaped with anticipation. He refused to acknowledge it had anything to do with a certain blond doctor who went by the name of Chanel Munro.

  * * *

  Armed with copies of the autopsies of all three women, Bryce and Jett made their way through the main building of the hospital. They waved to Marjorie and Dottie as they passed the information booth and headed up the stairs to the administration area that housed the office of the general manager. They were met by a stylish, middle-aged receptionist who asked them to take a seat. The waiting area was small, but tidy with a dark leather sofa against one wall.

  “Ms Healy will be with you in a moment,” the receptionist advised. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee or tea? Or maybe something cooler? The weather’s warmed up out there today.”

  Bryce glanced at Jett and answered for both of them. “No, thanks. We’re fine.”

  The woman nodded and returned to her seat behind the counter. A moment later, a door to their left opened and a tall, thin woman wearing a tailored, charcoal-gray suit and pale blue blouse strode into the waiting room. Without pause, she came straight up to where they were sitting and put out her hand.

  “Detectives, I’m Deborah Healy. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  Bryce stood and shook the proffered hand. Jett followed suit.

  “Come in, Detectives.”

  The woman turned on her four-inch, shiny black leather heels and headed back the way she’d come. Bryce noticed how Jett checked out her shapely butt. She must have been edging fifty, but she was still very well put together and despite her slenderness, she had curves and bumps in all the right places. More athletic looking than skinny, it was obvious she was a woman who took pride in her appearance.

  They followed her into a corner office that overlooked the front entryway of the hospital a floor below. Mid-afternoon sunshine poured through the tall windows that graced the wall behind her desk, flooding the room with natural light. Healthy plants grew in small, colorful ceramic pots along the window ledge. Soft classical music played from an iPod docked a little further along the ledge. The overriding mood was one of peace and tranquillity and was a surprise find in a hospital. All that was missing was a water feature.

  “Please, take a seat.”

  Bryce and Jett took the only two chairs available, opposite her large wooden desk. Unlike Doctor Baker’s, this desk look well used. Its pale, scarred surface was covered with files and loose papers. A handful of medical reference books sat in a pile on one end. Pens were scattered haphazardly across the desk, along with paperclips and highlighters. A large computer monitor and keyboard stood on the other corner, angled toward the general manager.

  Deborah Healy took a seat behind the desk and drew her chair in close. Sitting tall, she folded her hands together in front of her and addressed them again.

  “Now, Detectives, I assume this isn’t a social call. What can I do for you
?”

  Bryce raised his eyebrows in surprise. Okay, so the media presence had disappeared from outside the front of the hospital, but it had only been five days since the senator’s accusations had aired across the state. Surely it wasn’t too hard to deduce what they were there for?

  Bryce stared at her with narrowed eyes. She didn’t look stupid. In fact, the intelligence in her light brown eyes was plain to see. So what game was she playing?

  “Ms Healy, we’re investigating the suspicious death of Eileen Green, wife of Senator Jeremy Green.”

  “A very sad circumstance and on behalf of the hospital and all of the staff, I’ve extended my deepest sympathies to the senator and his family, but I’m afraid it’s only the senator who believes it’s suspicious. Preliminary examinations conducted by our doctors found otherwise.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Ms Healy, but this morning I went down to the city morgue. Doctor Samantha Wolfe conducted the autopsy on Eileen Green and she’s determined the woman was poisoned.”

  The general manager gasped and then quickly covered her mouth, as if to hold the offending emotion back. Color leached from her cheeks and a little of her confidence diminished. A frown creased the skin between her eyes.

  “Poisoned? How can that be?”

  “The forensic pathologist is still waiting for lab results to determine the particular substance used, but yes, she’s very certain poison was involved.”

  Deborah shook her head slowly back and forth. “Oh, dear God, how dreadful. That poor woman.”

  After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned back to them and asked, “Who else knows about the preliminary findings?”

  “I’ve informed our superintendent. He’s aware of what’s happening. I’m not sure who he’s spoken to. It’s possible that it’s still contained within the police service. As a matter of courtesy, we wanted to bring this to your attention before the media got wind of it. If you think yesterday was a media circus, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

  The woman nodded, her expression grim. “I’m afraid you’re right, Detective and I appreciate you coming as quickly as you have, but there’s no hiding from it. If a patient in this hospital has been murdered, I’ll let nothing and no one stand in the way of finding the person or persons responsible.” She hesitated and her expression turned hopeful.

  “There isn’t a chance it was an accident, is there? Like food poisoning, or something? Or perhaps it was an allergic reaction?”

  “Doctor Wolfe was certain it was a poisoning, but until we know what the poisonous substance is, we can’t rule anything out. We’ll proceed with open minds until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  “Of course, I’m sure you will, and thank you for coming to me with this. I can assure you I’ll cooperate fully with your investigation, as will the members of my staff. Let me know how we can be of assistance.”

  “I should tell you we’re investigating the deaths of two other patients in your hospital. Their autopsy reports don’t show death by poisoning, but we have reason to suspect otherwise. Tissue samples retained on file have also been sent to the lab for testing.”

  What little color that was left in the general manager’s cheeks disappeared. Her eyes went wide with shock.

  “Two other deaths? Are you certain? How do you know?”

  Bryce eyed her solemnly, almost feeling sorry for her. It wasn’t her fault a member of her staff could be out of control.

  “These deaths took place more nearly two months ago. They weren’t immediately reported as suspicious, but in light of what Doctor Wolfe found with Eileen Green, we have reason to suspect otherwise. We’ll know for sure once the lab results are in.”

  Deborah shook her head again, looking dazed. “Two more… What…? What do you want me to do?”

  Jett slid a piece of paper across the desk. It contained the full names of Amelia Arncliffe, Robyn Evan and Eileen Green, along with their dates of birth.

  “These women were all patients admitted under Doctor Leo Baker. We’re going to need copies of their hospital records during their stay, including clinical notes, medication schedules and anything else that was recorded while they were here,” Jett said.

  “We’re also going to need a copy of all staff rosters, including nursing, medical, kitchen and cleaning staff for the time these women were patients. We need to know exactly who had access to them and when.”

  Fear and concern now darkened the general manager’s eyes and her lips were pinched and pale. She reached for the piece of paper and held it closer. Her hand shook.

  “W-when do you need it?”

  “As soon as possible and we’d appreciate your discretion,” Bryce responded grimly. It would take a mammoth amount of manpower to collate the rosters of the thousands of staff members employed by the Sydney Harbour Hospital. The sooner they started, the better.

  “I-I’ll get on it right away.” She picked up the phone near her elbow and dialed a number and then looked back at them, her expression grim.

  “If you don’t mind, Detectives, I’d appreciate it if you could please see yourselves out.”

  Bryce nodded. “We’ll be in touch. Call as soon as you have that paperwork.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Bryce tried to make sense of the rosters spread out across the large tables in the major incident room at the station. A couple of other officers had done some preliminary groundwork, highlighting the names of staff members who had direct access to all three women during their stay at the hospital. Thankfully, none of the deceased had been a patient for longer than a fortnight prior to their deaths.

  It had been three days since the autopsy. He was still waiting to hear from Samantha, but his gut was telling him the deaths were related. As if on cue, his phone rang. The Caller ID of the city morgue came up on his screen. His gut clenched.

  “Detective Sutcliffe,” he announced.

  “Detective, it’s Samantha Wolfe. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. The labs are more backed up than I expected.”

  “That’s fine, I understand. What do you have?”

  “Eileen Green was poisoned with ricin. We also found large traces of it in Amelia Arncliffe and Robyn Evan. It looks like you have a serial killer on the loose in Sydney Harbour Hospital.”

  “Fuck.” Bryce whispered the expletive in deference to the forensic pathologist, but she heard him just the same.

  “That’s one way of putting it. Do you know what ricin is?”

  “Yeah, it comes from castor beans, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s right. It’s extracted from inside the castor bean by a process of filtration. It sounds complicated, but it isn’t. Anyone with half a brain could do it in their kitchen.”

  “Are castor beans readily available?”

  “It’s illegal to import castor bean seeds into Australia, but there are plenty of nurseries around Sydney where you can buy the plants. An easy search on the Internet would point you in the right direction.”

  “I take it this poison was ingested by the women?”

  “Yes, although even inhaling it can be fatal. It was found in both the blood and tissues of our victims, which leads me to believe it was swallowed.”

  “So someone tampered with their food?”

  “That would be my guess. If the ricin’s been reduced to a powder form, it would be simple enough for someone to mix it in with the yoghurt or mashed potato.”

  Bryce’s jaw clenched. This was even more difficult than he imagined. When he’d included the kitchen staff in the people he wanted to look at, it was more from the point of view of being thorough, rather than any real belief they were involved. What could a member of the kitchen staff have against the women, unless the victims selected at random? The endless thoughts chased themselves around his head until he gritted his teeth in frustration. A sound escaped his tightly clenched jaws.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  He was snapped back to reality by the do
ctor’s question and he hurriedly focused his thoughts once more on their conversation.

  “What time frame are we talking between ingestion and death, Doctor Wolfe?”

  “It depends on a number of factors. Usually, we’d say it takes between one to three days for a person to die once they’ve been exposed, but if they ingested a large amount of ricin or were otherwise susceptible, it could happen sooner. For example, children or the elderly will generally die faster from ricin poisoning than an otherwise healthy adult.”

  Bryce mulled over her answer. “So, in this case, where we have three ailing, elderly women, it could have taken less time for them to die?”

  “Correct. And although we don’t know the dosage they were given, significant amounts were found in all three. Enough to kill them, for sure.”

  “One final question, Doctor Wolfe. How long would it take after ingestion for our victims to begin showing symptoms?”

  “Generally, when ricin is ingested, you’ll start seeing signs of poisoning within ten hours, often sooner if the dosage is high and the patient is small. Signs such as severe abdominal pain, vomiting and diarrhoea are all classic indicators of poisoning.”

  Bryce thanked the doctor and ended the call with a heavy sigh. At least they’d done some preliminaries. Now all he had to do was compile a list of all staff members who had come into direct contact with their victims ten or twelve hours prior to them showing symptoms of poisoning. He looked down at the piles of scattered papers and sighed again. A moment later, he threw back his shoulders and headed toward the door, determination surging through him. He called out to Holt on his way across the squad room.

  “Boss, I just heard from Samantha Wolfe. We need to talk about putting together a task force.”

  * * *

  Chanel took a sip from her Styrofoam coffee cup and did her best to concentrate on the excited chatter coming from her roommate. They were both on a break and had agreed to meet in the hospital cafeteria. The conversation had been going fine until Tanya mentioned Doctor Baker. Chanel was certain if Tanya mentioned Doctor Baker’s name in that breathy, girly voice one more time, she’d puke.