‘About?’
‘You, Poe.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. I often find myself thinking about you, but on this particular occasion I found myself thinking about your mind.’
Poe glanced at Bradshaw. ‘I told you she wants my brain left to medical science,’ he muttered.
‘Yes, hilarious, Poe,’ Doyle said. ‘But you told me the Botanist case was the most complex you’d ever worked. That regardless of the security measures, he can seemingly walk through walls and get to his victims.’
‘Poe says it must be black magic,’ Bradshaw said, ‘but I believe the answer is scientific.’
‘And as usual you’re the voice of reason, Tilly. Because Poe is forgetting one thing in all of this.’
‘And what is that, Estelle?’ Bradshaw asked.
‘That he has the finest detective mind I’ve ever come across,’ she replied. ‘And that means if the Botanistdidhave some fancy way of getting past him, he’d have worked out how by now.’
‘You flatter me,’ Poe said.
‘It’s a fact, Poe, and like Tilly, I deal in facts. So that got me thinking: how wouldIpoison someone you were protecting?’
‘You have a theory, don’t you?’
‘I do.’
She told them what it was.
Poe asked questions.
She answered them.
Bradshaw asked better questions. Doyle answered those too.
Poe glanced at the satnav. They were still an hour away from Salt’s house and, if Doyle was right, every second counted. He found Flynn in his recent contacts and pressed call.
She answered immediately.
‘Boss, we have a problem …’
Two minutes later Flynn put her phone down. She glanced at Salt, obliviously stuffing his face with something from the fridge. Everything in there was safe to eat, but if Doyle was right they’d been coming at this from completely the wrong angle.
She cleared her throat.
‘That was Poe, Mr Salt,’ she said. ‘He has some news.’
Salt looked up from his meal. ‘Oh?’
‘He no longer thinks the Botanist is trying to kill you.’
He leaped to his feet. ‘I knew it!’ he said, punching the air. ‘There’s no way this ass-hat could penetrate all this security. I told Sergeant Poe it’s state of the art and that the Botanist would eventually have to move on to a softer target.’
Flynn kept her face flat.
The smile dropped from Salt’s face. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Poe doesn’t think the Botanist is trying to kill you, Mr Salt,’ she replied. ‘He thinks he already has.’