most of the overdose cases I see. However, let me refer to my notes.’
We followed her to a counter in the corner and waited while she flipped through a notepad.
‘Ah, yes, here we go. This one had a full meal in his stomach. No analysis on the contents yet but it looks to me like a souvlaki. Secondly, I only found one needle mark. No other abscesses. Maybe we’re looking at a relapse, which is common after a period of abstinence. Tolerance goes down, risk of overdose goes up. Was he incarcerated recently?’
I knew why she was asking. Prison was often the only time these people abstained from drug use. I told her Boyd hadn’t been inside for more than a year and that all indications were that he was clean, of his own volition.
‘Well then, perhaps that’s something else to add to your anomalies,’ she said.
I nodded. ‘What else, doctor?’
‘The liver. I’ve sent it off for testing but it appeared healthy to me. Even in kids this young, a lifestyle of drug and alcohol abuse can cause damage to the liver that is immediately recognisable to the naked eye.’
I wrote it all down then asked about the toxicology report.
‘It’s only the initial findings,’ Wong said, ‘but very interesting. The report’s on my desk. I’ll go get it. Back in a minute.’
While she was gone I walked over to the X-ray viewing box and studied a slide of what I recognised to be a human arm. The second slide depicted a rib cage and the third, a leg. Something about the third image intrigued me and reminded me of what I wanted to ask. I turned the light off as I heard Wong’s footsteps. She came back into the room carrying a single page in her hand.
‘I have percentage breakdowns of different substances here, detectives. They are in the usual denominations of blood concentration,’ she said, putting on a pair of rimless glasses to decipher her notes. ‘I’ll start with blood alcohol concentration. You said you found a beer bottle lid in his trousers?’
I nodded.
‘That fits here. Results indicate a BAC of 0.01, meaning he only drank a little, or he finished drinking some time before he died.’
I made a notation in my daybook. Last drink – where?
‘There were also moderately high levels of opiates in his blood,’ Wong continued. ‘This is where it gets odd. Normally when I see these cases, tox screens indicate a level of morphine of around 0.02 milligrams per litre of blood or higher. In this case the blood concentration is less than half that.’
‘So what are you saying, doctor?’ Cassie asked. ‘The heroin didn’t kill him?’
‘I guess you could say he had a little help from an old friend,’ said Wong, looking grim. ‘Gamma hydroxy butyrate.’
Cassie and I both nodded. GHB was popular in the party scene and probably responsible for more overdoses than any other drug besides heroin.
‘It’s a strong anaesthetic,’ Wong went on. ‘High levels here too: 0.3 mil per litre. I read some medical literature before you came in this morning and I’m starting to think this may be the best indicator of how this boy died. The general consensus is that anyone with this level of GHB in his or her blood would lose consciousness very soon. If not revived, and their airways were obstructed, they would die.’
I wrote while she spoke, not fully absorbing the meaning of her words until she finished. When I realised what she was implying, a large piece of the puzzle fell into place.
‘You’re saying he was incapacitated,’ I said. ‘With this much GHB in his system he wouldn’t be able to walk or talk, much less get a fit ready and shoot up.’
‘Somebody juiced him up then made it look like a heroin overdose,’ Cassie agreed.
‘That’s one assumption,’ Dr Wong said as she folded the report away. ‘GHB is a strong depressant. Mix it with another depressant like alcohol or heroin and it multiplies the effect on the central nervous system.’
Again I thought about the beer lid and a series of images played in my mind. Boyd meeting up with the killer, accepting a beer, possibly in a private residence or somewhere away from prying eyes. The killer squirting GHB into the beer, waiting for Boyd to lose consciousness, before taking him out to a waiting car, driving him to the loading bay at the rear of Café Vit, injecting him with heroin and leaving him to die. It was a stretch, but possible.