Dead Wrong by Helen H. Durrant Page B

popular, but on the Hobfield they were vital. They were part of the very fabric of the place. Now they were gone a very real gap would have opened up. Who’d take over the business, who’d sell the dope? Perhaps he should have asked Ray Fallon.
    “I’ve got a date,” Ruth announced on her return. “Don’t look at me like that . . .” Calladine’s head had shot up and he gave her a questioning stare. “It does happen, you know. A sort of dishy teacher is taking me out to eat at the weekend.”
    “Only sort of dishy? Are you slipping?”
    “Okay then — a really dishy teacher is taking me out. This is the first date I’ve had in ages, so I think I would have accepted no matter what. With my track record I can hardly afford to be too choosey. I’m a lot like you — no damn time for relationships.”
    “Well, have a nice time. But don’t stay out too late, we’ve a lot on, remember?”
    “It’s a date but it’s work related. He could be helpful. He was at the comp. when David Morpeth was killed, and he taught those two.” She nodded at the board. “If nothing else, it’s a different slant on their lives.”
    “In that case don’t tell me anymore,” he advised. “If it does turn out that your teacher knows something then he could be called as a witness once this little lot comes to court,” he shook his head. “You can imagine what the defence would do with the knowledge that the pair of you were embroiled in some hot romance.”
    “It’s not a hot romance , as you put it. I hardly know the guy,” she frowned. “Wish I hadn’t said anything now,” she decided looking almost petulant.
    “The way the case is going Ruth, so do I. So don’t tell me anything else.”
    Calladine doubted anything from so far back would help and legal issues aside, he was glad Ruth was getting out. She tended to bury herself in her work, very much like he did, and this place could get claustrophobic if you didn’t dip into the normal world every now and then.
    “Bought Monika’s present yet? Because if you haven’t, you’re leaving it very late. If you don’t get a move on, it’ll have to be flowers after all, and she’ll know, she’ll see right through you.”
    Calladine coughed. She had him there. He’d forgotten all about it — again. This damned romance business was too difficult. He had a job to do, and it didn’t leave time to go bloody shopping.
    “Doc Hoyle has something. I’ll give him a ring.” He retreated into his office.
    He couldn’t keep doing this, letting Monika down — not really caring. She was a problem he didn’t want to face right now, but he’d have to come clean at some point. He’d get that present, he’d take her out, and once he’d got on top of this case and it wasn’t her birthday, he’d speak to her properly.
    “Doc, what’ve you got?”
    “I’ve run some initial toxicology tests and got a whole mishmash of results. Both young men were full of Lorazepam. In large doses it’s a sedative and can, in sufficient quantity, induce coma. But there were traces of other drugs too, and they are more perplexing.”
    “How do you mean? What did you find?”
    “Risedronate for a start. I didn’t expect that, it’s usually prescribed for women suffering from osteoporosis. It would have no sedative effect at all. There was also Tramadol, a strong morphine-based painkiller, and then there was the real mystery.”
    There was a pause. Calladine could picture the man studying his notes and adjusting his reading spectacles.
    “Aricept, Tom. A rather expensive drug used in the treatment of Alzheimer’s.”
    “Is it a sedative?”
    “No, not at all. The only two sedatives would be the Lorazepam and the Tramadol, and they are commonly prescribed by GPs.”
    “So why the other two then?”
    “I can’t even hazard a guess. Nor can I suggest where your murderer got the drugs from. Commonly used or not, they’re all only issued on prescription. Unless, of course, they were