The Corpse With the Platinum Hair by Cathy Ace

Author:Cathy Ace [Ace, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Mystery, Foodie, Murder Investigation, Las Vegas, Criminologist
ISBN: 9781771510882
Google: v_kEBAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Touchwood Editions
Published: 2014-09-11T16:00:00+00:00

Duet

THE MOOD IN THE ROOM was somber, to say the least. Julie’s sobbing was heartrending. Tanya did her best to console the poor woman. Tom lingered beside the pair of them. Ian, Carl, and Art were standing several feet away, looking uncomfortable and confused. Svetlana was seeking comfort from Jimmy. Bud was clearly beating himself up over his inability to save Jack Bullock. At least there was something I could do about that.

I moved across the room as unobtrusively as possible and sat beside Clemence, who was sipping water and wiping his face with his giant handkerchief.

“Clemence, when you came out of the men’s room earlier on, I noticed a spot of blood on your shirtsleeve. There.”

The elderly man pulled at his shirt to see the mark.

“Clemence, are you a diabetic?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “Found out about six months ago.”

“So I’m guessing you’ve been put on a special diet, which would explain your recent weight loss.”

Clemence looked puzzled. “Yes, but how d’you know I lost weight? We only met tonight.”

“Your collar. It’s very loose on you, which means your neck is smaller than it once was. Do you inject insulin?”

“Sure do. Don’t like it. Not very steady handed.”

“Syringe or pen?”

“Pen. Easier than keepin’ everything in a fridge all the time. Costs more, ’course, but Miss Shirley made sure I could afford it. Here—” He turned to his jacket, which hung on the back of his chair. He felt around all the pockets, then searched his pants’ pockets. He looked concerned. “Don’t know where it’s gone to. Little bag I carry. Got my pens, my drops, and my pills in it. Always have two insulin pens, in case I mess up with one. Had them earlier. Used one right after dinner. New pens. Full. First dose.”

“How much insulin is in each one, Clemence?”

“A lot.” I waited while Clemence gave the matter due consideration. “Yep, a lot.”

I tried a slightly different approach. “How long would a pen last?”

“Month.”

That was a lot of insulin, and he’d had two pens. “Is it possible to inject the entire contents of a pen in one go?” I suspected I knew the answer.

“Can’t do it. Dose is controlled. You don’t want to overdose. Dangerous,” said Clemence. As he spoke, I could sense he was beginning to follow my train of thought. He sucked his teeth. “My insulin kill him?” asked Clemence quietly. He was sharp.

“I don’t know. It might have done. Can we keep this between ourselves for now?”

The man nodded slowly. “Sure thing.”

“Thanks.” I got up and began to move toward Bud. I stopped and turned back. “Clemence, when will you be due to use more insulin?”

The man looked at his watch and did some mental calculations. “I guess pretty soon. I test when I get up in the morning, and we’re getting to ’bout that time.”

The dread I felt made me swallow hard. If Clemence didn’t have access to his insulin, because it had all been pumped into Jack’s body, he ran the risk of suffering from ketoacidosis.

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