art by Melissa Mead
Those Little Slices of Death
by Susan Lanigan
Yes, Inspector, you may turn on the tape. No, thank you, I don't need tea. "For the purposes of this interview"--isn't that the terminology? Some things never change.
So--for the purposes of this interview--my name is Kevin Drummond, as you know. Up until last week, I ran the Drug Rehabilitation Unit in Hampden Hospital. Have you seen it, Inspector? Nothing much to look at; a long, low building surrounded by a "Zen garden" of patchy grass, gravel, and hardy perennials, and under twenty-four-hour armed guard. My work was my life, but that won't surprise you either.
Yes, yes. Brionglóid O'Mara. You want to know about her. Well, I'm getting to it.
We dealt with everything--old stuff like crystal meth as well as the newer menaces like the antipsychotics--you can tell those users a mile off: they keep twitching and blinking, poor fellows. My team has an excellent reputation. This year alone I was invited to speak at conferences in Canada, the U.S., and Japan. The newspapers sometimes refer to me as "the drugs savior." I cured everything. Except for this new addiction. This one's beyond me.