Page 13 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

Kenny snapped his head up. “A rose?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s related to the Howells this time. It was one of those flowers you can buy in any bar to give to a date.”

“Who gave it to her?”

“No one knows. No one saw anything or suspected anything was wrong. And before you ask, the CCTV was down.”

“Course it was.” Kenny scanned the initial pathology report. “So not a spontaneous heart attack, then? As SLT claim.”

“No. She was a netball player. Exceptionally healthy. No underlying health issues.”

“Nothing in her system? Alcohol? Drugs?”

“Nothing we didn’t expect to find, no.” Jack perched on the edge of the first row of desks opposite Kenny, rubbing his jaw. “Ready to hear the odd part?”

“This is already odd, but go on.” Kenny’s eyes never left the file. The photo of a young girl, dressed up for a night out, slumped in a corner, cold, dead, extinguished.

“Tox screen came back clean, at least for the usual suspects. Little alcohol, no common recreational drugs, no prescription medication that could have interacted. Blood toxicology ruled out overdose, but her organs…they showed signs of something. A reaction to something foreign.”

Kenny felt a knot form in his stomach as he turned to the detailed pages. “So, what’s the cause of death?”

Jack shook his head, eyes narrowing. “Nothing concrete. Forensics identified elevated levels of an unknown compound in her blood. Lab’s still working on it, but they’re stumped. Pathology pointed out it resembles the symptoms of a neurotoxin, possibly something synthetic, but it’s unlike anything they’ve come across. It’s quick, subtle, and, well, deadly, as we’ve seen. They think it was likely ingested, but we’ve got no source. You can imagine the panic. We sealed off the scene, checked all others to see if anyone else was unwell. Nothing.”

Kenny set down the file, a feeling of foreboding settling in. “And you’re asking for my take because…”

“Because this isn’t the first time we’ve seen it.” Jack pulled out a second folder. “We did a search. Two more came up in similar ways. Debbie Hess. Not a student. She was an influencer. Found dead six months ago in a café over in Coventry where she was meeting a date. Apparently, the date never showed. Blokewas contacted, said he had cold feet and never went. Her autopsy was inconclusive, no visible trauma, no obvious cause of death. But tox reports showed something off. Slightly different compound, but close enough to make us wonder. And Charlotte Mountburrow, an aspiring actress, dead in a cinema in Nuneaton where she would go by herself regularly. Liked horror films. Her friends didn’t. They were certain she would have been alone.”

He passed the second file to Kenny, and he flipped through it, eyes catching on the few phrases jumping out.Unknown substance.No apparent signs of physical distress.Unusual levels of neurotransmitter depletion.

Jack watched him, face hard, unyielding. “Look, I know this isn’t exactly your field. But your particular understanding of psychology and motives, especially ones that fall…outside the norm, could help us here. We can’t ascertain why these victims were targeted other than they all have a similar…look.”

“Blonde. Pretty.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t look to me obviously sexual in nature. None were violated. Or assaulted. Charlotte was a virgin. Chong said it would have been a rather bland death in that sense. And they were healthy, outgoing individuals with no connections to any dangerous activity. We’ve ruled out everything we can think of. What’s left is that someone did this intentionally. And it’s thesamesomeone. The rose? Also found at each scene.”

Kenny peered up from the file, brow furrowing as his mind raced with possibilities. “So you’re thinking we have a serial killer?”

“You tell me.”

“If we do, it’s someone who’s using something precise, calculated—a controlled substance meant to evade detection?”

Jack nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking, yes. We need a perspective that goes beyond the technical and focuses on motive. Why would someone choose this method? These girls? Why poison and leave no trace, almost as if the act itself wasmore important than the consequence? There’s no struggle. And no one seems to see anything odd.”

Kenny scratched his beard as he considered Jack’s words. “If this is a pattern, we could be looking at a unique form of intimacy, perhaps even a psychological compulsion. The subtlety of the toxin suggests a need for control, but without leaving a calling card, without taking responsibility. Almost as if… they want to create a commotion without anyone knowing who’s responsible. That points to someone with a certain amount of clinical detachment, maybe even someone who thinks they’re above being caught.”

“So it’s not rage or personal vendetta?”

“No. Certainly, if these girls aren’t linked. Don’t know each other?”

“Not that we’ve found. All in different parts of the midlands. Here. Coventry, Nuneaton. Far enough away from each other to not immediately make the link, but also within travelling distance for someone who knows the area.”

“Then it sounds more like an experiment or ritual.” Kenny flipped through the pages again. “Controlled, restrained, and the lack of direct contact with the victims suggests someone who doesn’t need to feel the thrill of seeing them suffer. Rather, they might be more focused on theoutcome, on the power of knowing they’ve taken a life undetected.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll admit, it aligns with our suspicions. We suspect it could be someone with access to specialised compounds. A scientist, a medical professional. Someone who’s no stranger to manipulating physiology.”

Kenny closed the file, setting it down, expression grim. “A person with a need for power, for control over life and death, but who can’t stand the intimacy of direct contact. The act itself may be their only sense of connection to others, even if it’s through something lethal.”

“We’re hoping you’ll take a closer look. Maybe speak topathology and help us pinpoint the mindset. If there’s anyone who can pick out the psychological nuances here, it’s you.” He hesitated, then added, “Frankly, Kenny, I’ve got a feeling we’ll have more before we figure anything out. With how clever this is, we’re fucked.”

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