the rage in Europe.”
Megan tried to imagine it—a tiny plastic bus was all the rage …
“It’s a record player.”
She looked up. “Beg your pardon?”
“A record player. See?” He flipped over the bus. “That’s the needle on the underside. These holes on the sides are speakers. The wheels make it go around in a circle.”
“But how—”
“You put it on top of a phonograph record, and as it drives around in a circle on top, the needle plays the music, which comes out the speakers. Ingenious, huh?”
“More like incredible.”
“Sounds like hell, of course, and it destroys the record. But it’s a great gimmick, don’t you think?”
“Great isn’t quite the word.” She opened her purse. “You’re sure you want to part with this?”
He waved his hand. “Oh, yeah. It’s a CD world now, right? I sold off all my LPs a long time ago.”
“Swell.” She dropped the bus in and closed her purse. “Well, if you’re sure you can’t help, me…”
“Wait.”
Megan stopped in her tracks.
“Look … I shouldn’t do this …”
Megan listened intently, hoping for a but.
“But since you’ve been so nice, let me tell you something. There really wasn’t much more we could determine. The food was poisoned. Rat poison, absolutely deadly.”
“It must taste awful.”
“Yes, but the taste would’ve been masked by the strong spices of the food.”
“Tommy wouldn’t have known it was poisoned.”
“Probably not. If he’d taken more than a few bites, he’d have died almost instantly. We couldn’t possibly have saved him.”
Megan nodded her head grimly. Then Carl really was trying to—
“There was one interesting factor, though.” He riffled through the papers on his desk, searching for the report. “Chemical analysis revealed a very low absorption rate.”
“Low absorption rate,” Megan repeated. “What does that mean?”
“It means the poison was still mostly topical. It had not soaked into the food.”
Megan nodded her head. “Is that important?”
“Could be. We tested the food ourselves independently, with separate samples of poison we had here in the office. Toxin absorption didn’t take long at all.”
Megan was beginning to get the gist of the matter. “Then if the poison on Tommy’s food hadn’t soaked in much, even by the time you got it in the lab …”
Barney nodded his head. “Then it hadn’t been there very long. One of the witnesses in the restaurant said their food had been delivered as much as twenty minutes before you arrived. There’s no way the poison was applied that long ago.”
“Then it must’ve been added later,” Megan said, thinking aloud.
“Right,” Barney confirmed. “It must have been added—well, not long before you arrived at the scene.”
Megan nodded her head slowly. “Or after.”
18
“D INNERTIME, MR. CANTRELL.”
Carl snapped out of his reverie. The painkillers had made him forget all about the pain in his arm. What occupied his thoughts now was that woman. That priest—or ex-priest or whatever. He had almost forgotten what it was like to actually talk to another human being, to be able to explain how you feel, to have the sense that the person on the other end was actually listening. She truly seemed to care; when she said she would check into the situation, he believed her.
The candystriper plopped the plastic tray across his lap, attaching the metal clamps on either end to the rail of his bed. “Looks like they’ve got something special for you tonight.” She cast her eyes down toward the tray. “Red Jell-O with bananas and marshmallows. I love that stuff.”
“You’re welcome to mine,” Carl growled.
The candystriper laughed. “Oh, what a card you are. But I doubt if the docs would approve of that. Or the two guards at the door.”
“I’m surprised they let you in.”
She opened his milk carton and poured it into a glass. “Everyone has to eat, Mr. Cantrell. Even when they’re under
Megan tried to imagine it—a tiny plastic bus was all the rage …
“It’s a record player.”
She looked up. “Beg your pardon?”
“A record player. See?” He flipped over the bus. “That’s the needle on the underside. These holes on the sides are speakers. The wheels make it go around in a circle.”
“But how—”
“You put it on top of a phonograph record, and as it drives around in a circle on top, the needle plays the music, which comes out the speakers. Ingenious, huh?”
“More like incredible.”
“Sounds like hell, of course, and it destroys the record. But it’s a great gimmick, don’t you think?”
“Great isn’t quite the word.” She opened her purse. “You’re sure you want to part with this?”
He waved his hand. “Oh, yeah. It’s a CD world now, right? I sold off all my LPs a long time ago.”
“Swell.” She dropped the bus in and closed her purse. “Well, if you’re sure you can’t help, me…”
“Wait.”
Megan stopped in her tracks.
“Look … I shouldn’t do this …”
Megan listened intently, hoping for a but.
“But since you’ve been so nice, let me tell you something. There really wasn’t much more we could determine. The food was poisoned. Rat poison, absolutely deadly.”
“It must taste awful.”
“Yes, but the taste would’ve been masked by the strong spices of the food.”
“Tommy wouldn’t have known it was poisoned.”
“Probably not. If he’d taken more than a few bites, he’d have died almost instantly. We couldn’t possibly have saved him.”
Megan nodded her head grimly. Then Carl really was trying to—
“There was one interesting factor, though.” He riffled through the papers on his desk, searching for the report. “Chemical analysis revealed a very low absorption rate.”
“Low absorption rate,” Megan repeated. “What does that mean?”
“It means the poison was still mostly topical. It had not soaked into the food.”
Megan nodded her head. “Is that important?”
“Could be. We tested the food ourselves independently, with separate samples of poison we had here in the office. Toxin absorption didn’t take long at all.”
Megan was beginning to get the gist of the matter. “Then if the poison on Tommy’s food hadn’t soaked in much, even by the time you got it in the lab …”
Barney nodded his head. “Then it hadn’t been there very long. One of the witnesses in the restaurant said their food had been delivered as much as twenty minutes before you arrived. There’s no way the poison was applied that long ago.”
“Then it must’ve been added later,” Megan said, thinking aloud.
“Right,” Barney confirmed. “It must have been added—well, not long before you arrived at the scene.”
Megan nodded her head slowly. “Or after.”
18
“D INNERTIME, MR. CANTRELL.”
Carl snapped out of his reverie. The painkillers had made him forget all about the pain in his arm. What occupied his thoughts now was that woman. That priest—or ex-priest or whatever. He had almost forgotten what it was like to actually talk to another human being, to be able to explain how you feel, to have the sense that the person on the other end was actually listening. She truly seemed to care; when she said she would check into the situation, he believed her.
The candystriper plopped the plastic tray across his lap, attaching the metal clamps on either end to the rail of his bed. “Looks like they’ve got something special for you tonight.” She cast her eyes down toward the tray. “Red Jell-O with bananas and marshmallows. I love that stuff.”
“You’re welcome to mine,” Carl growled.
The candystriper laughed. “Oh, what a card you are. But I doubt if the docs would approve of that. Or the two guards at the door.”
“I’m surprised they let you in.”
She opened his milk carton and poured it into a glass. “Everyone has to eat, Mr. Cantrell. Even when they’re under
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