I Hear the Sirens in the Street Read Online Free Page B

synthesis would have been inhibited. Without these proteins, cells cannot survive.”
    â€œWhat would have happened next?”
    â€œHaemorrhaging of the lungs, kidney failure, heart failure, death.”
    â€œGrisly.”
    â€œYes, but at least it would have been fairly rapid.”
    â€œHow rapid? Seconds, minutes?”
    â€œMinutes. This particular strain of Abrin was home cooked. It was crude. It was not manufactured by a government germ warfare lab.”
    â€œCrude but effective.”
    â€œIndeed.”
    I nodded. “When was all this?”
    â€œThat’s another part of the puzzle.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIt’s impossible to say how long the body was frozen.”
    I nodded.
    â€œAre you sure about that freezing thing? There are plenty of ways a bit of skin can come off somebody’s back,” McCrabban said.
    â€œI’m certain, Detective. The cell damage caused by freezing is consistent throughout what’s left of his body.”
    â€œAnd so you have no idea when all this happened?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “It is beyond my capabilities to state how long he was frozen for.”
    â€œSo you’re not able to determine a time of death?”
    â€œI am afraid that I am not able to determine a time or date of death. Although I will continue to work on the problem.”
    â€œPoisoned, frozen, chopped up, dumped,” McCrabban said sadly, writing it down in his notebook.
    â€œYes,” Laura said, yawning. I gave her a smile. Was she already bored by death? Is that what happened to all pathos in the end?Or was she just bored by us? By me?
    â€œThe rosary pea. That is interesting,” McCrabban said, still writing in his book.
    â€œOur killer is not stupid,” Laura said. “He’s got a little bit of education.”
    â€œWhich more or less rules out the local paramilitaries,” McCrabban muttered.
    â€œThey’re not that bright?” Laura asked.
    â€œPoison is far too elaborate for them. Too elaborate for everybody really around here. I mean what’s the point? You can get guns anywhere in Northern Ireland,” I said.
    McCrabban nodded. “The last poisoning I remember was in 1977,” he said.
    â€œWhat happened then?” Laura asked.
    â€œWife poisoned her husband with weedkiller in his tea. Open and shut case,” McCrabban said.
    â€œSo what do you think we’re looking at here, then? A loner, someone unaffiliated with the paramilitaries?” I asked him.
    â€œCould be,” McCrabban agreed.
    â€œDo us a favour, mate, call up a few garden centres and ask about rosary pea and get cracking on ‘No Sacrifice Too Great’, will ya?”
    Crabbie wasn’t dense. He could read between the lines. He could see that I wanted to talk to Laura in private.
    â€œYou’ll walk back to the station, will you, Sean?” he asked.
    â€œAye, I’ll walk, I could do with the exercise.”
    â€œFair enough,” he said and turned to Laura. “Nice to see you again, Dr Cathcart.”
    â€œYou too, Detective McCrabban,” Laura said.
    When he’d gone I walked to her and took off her mask.
    â€œWhat?” Laura asked.
    â€œTell me,” I said.
    â€œTell you what?”
    â€œTell me what’s going on,” I said.
    She shook her head. “Ugh, Sean, I don’t have time for this, today.”
    â€œTime for what exactly?”
    â€œThe games. The drama,” she said.
    â€œThere’s no drama. I just want to know what’s going on.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œWhat’s going on with us?”
    â€œNothing’s going on,” she said.
    But her voice quavered.
    Outside I could hear Crabbie start up the Land Rover.
    I waited for a beat or two.
    â€œAll right, let’s go to my office,” she said.
    â€œOkay.”
    We walked the corridor and went into her office. It was the same dull beige