‘No suspicion of poisoning, therefore no toxicology tests for it, and if he has no form of identity on him he would be listed as a John Doe.’
Anna’s mobile rang, it was Joan but before the constable could say a word, Anna launched into yet another list of requests.
‘Joan, thanks for calling back. I need you to check all the mortuaries in London and see if they have any unidentified bodies of black men matching Samuel Peters’ description.’
They could hear Joan’s sharp intake of breath. ‘Oh, my God, this is getting crazy. Do you think he’s been murdered as well?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘I really think you need to tell Mike Lewis, Anna. The hospital was asking questions and-’
Detecting the worry in Joan’s voice, Anna interjected: ‘I will contact him tomorrow morning.’
‘It’s just that I feel I’m being a bit underhand and subversive.’
Blane went over to his computer and began checking on the Internet.
‘You are doing a fantastic job and you know you are my most valued confidante,’ Anna assured Joan, trying to calm her. ‘If there’s anything you think I’m missing or need to know then call me.’
‘You leave it with me, Anna. I’ll find Samuel Peters for you, dead or alive.’
By now, Anna was starting to flag and asked Blane if she could have some coffee.
‘Good idea, we could both do with some,’ he agreed, leaving his computer. While he prepared the beans, Anna made another quick call to Pete Jenkins, who was enjoying his Sunday evening dinner at home.
‘What now?’ he asked, swallowing a piece of his Yorkshire pudding by the sound of it.
Anna could hear his wife in the background asking if it was ‘her again’. Anna apologized and said she’d be quick and Pete told her she’d better be.
‘There’s one other thing, and don’t worry, it’s not unethical or breaching human rights or anything like that.’
‘I’m listening,’ Pete said, and gave a big sigh.
‘Josh Reynolds’ blood sample – am I right in saying it was only ever tested for alcohol and common drugs of abuse?’
‘Yes, that’s the standard testing. Why?’
‘So any poisons or medicines would be missed?’
‘We only look for poisons if the evidence in the case suggests it. They’re expensive tests to run and-’
Anna interrupted him: ‘I think you may find atropine.’
She went on to hastily explain her reasoning and her theory that Marisha and Samuel might also have been poisoned with the same drug.
‘My team are still working at Marisha’s flat and I noticed a rum bottle on her coffee table in the living room. I’ll have it brought to the lab first thing tomorrow morning and do a test,’ Pete promised. ‘Far be it from me to flatter you but good job, Anna – that bottle might very well have been discarded if you hadn’t said anything.’
Blane handed Anna a cup of coffee.
‘Thanks, I need this. I was starting to get a bit slurred talking to Joan, I’m sure she was suspicious. I hope I didn’t sound two-faced flattering her but she does need coddling now and then, and it helps get results.’
He carried his own mug to the table, reminding her that she had wanted to look at the pictures of Gloria at the Charity Ball. She sipped her coffee, baffled at how the poisoned rum came to be at Marisha’s. True, Gloria could have given Samuel the bottle, but they both agreed that if he was blackmailing her he wouldn’t be stupid enough to accept it. The other possibility was that Gloria visited Marisha’s and secretly laced the bottle of rum with atropine.
Blane looked again at the notes Barolli made of Marisha’s interview. ‘Let’s just backtrack for a minute. We suspect that Samuel was blackmailing Gloria, and we suspect the money in the freezer was a pay-off. In the interview, Marisha said, “Samuel didn’t steal the money” and “the rich bitch” gave it to him. Gloria could have gone to Marisha’s flat to pay Samuel off; if she already had the poison with her she could have seen the rum and taken the opportunity…’
Anna picked up on his reasoning. ‘She could have poured it into the bottle. Brilliant, and if we’re right, that’s why Marisha had no idea when she offered Barolli some and also drank it herself later on.’ She was elated; it was yet another major step in completing the jigsaw, and she was beyond impressed by Blane’s ability and observations.
He wandered back to stand in front of his computer, describing how while she was on the phone to Joan he had been mulling over her and Dewar’s visit to Gloria’s house and had done some research on the Internet, particularly about the Salviati and Mazzoni paintings, which Gloria had said were of the three Moirai.
‘Come and have a look at this.’ He brought the two pictures up side by side on the screen.
‘Gloria made reference to Greek mythology, saying they were the daughters of Zeus.’
‘Yes,’ a confused-looking Anna replied.
‘Bear with me on this, but psychologically it’s interesting that Gloria didn’t paint the whole picture.’
Anna nudged him with her elbow. ‘Come on then, Picasso, don’t keep me in suspense.’
‘I remembered something from my college days.’
‘Really, that far back?’ she grinned.
‘The Moirai are goddesses, also known as the three Fates, and they determine the destiny of man, controlling the thread of life from birth to death.’
He knew he had Anna’s full attention as he brought up another web page about the Moirai and read from it.
‘Clotho, whose name means Spinner, spun the thread of life, Lachesis, the apportioner, measured the thread of life, and Atropos, also known as AISA, cut the thread of life.’
Anna was intrigued as he returned to the Salviati painting that depicted the three women as ugly and old. ‘There’s Clotho at the back holding the spindle of thread, in front of her Lachesis stretching the thread between the fingers of each hand and beside her Aisa holding the shears to cut the thread. The ancient Greeks believed that no one, not even a god, could sway the Fates as they controlled the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal from birth to death, and it was impossible for anyone to control their own destiny.’
‘Don’t go so fast,’ protested Anna. ‘The other painting, by Mazzoni, where they are almost angelic, does it have the same meaning?’
‘Yes, it’s just the way the artist chose to depict them. So now we can see that both atropine and the genus name for deadly nightshade, Atropa bellaDONNA, are derived from Atropos.’
Anna gazed at him, extremely impressed, and completely enthralled by his intellect and quiet authority.
‘Are there any flaws in your makeup or are you always so bloody brilliant?’
‘Funny you should mention makeup because Roman women would use atropine as eye drops to dilate their pupils in order to make them appear more sexually aroused. The word belladonna, as I’m sure you know, means beautiful woman.’
Anna couldn’t help but giggle, because she hadn’t known what belladonna meant. He flushed, embarrassed, thinking she was laughing at him.
Anna put her arms around him and squeezed him with great affection. ‘I wasn’t laughing at you, Don – more at myself because you blow me away with all this amazing information.
‘I thank you very much, and I think this whole thing with plants and poison may be beyond an obsession with Gloria: it’s more like a psychotic fixation.’
‘Like that woman in the old people’s home you spoke about. She thinks she’s a god who can control people’s destiny?’ Anna asked.
Blane nodded, and picking up his pen he began to write in his notebook. ‘I believe Gloria has many of the characteristics of a sociopath, plus a deep hatred of men, including her own father.’
Anna was not sure he was correct. ‘Then why did she get married three times and name a charity after her father?’