Read White Death for Free Online Page A

and changed his mind. This wasn’t the time … ‘We don’t have all the lab results back yet but it now seems pretty certain at this stage that your son died of something we call necrotising fasciitis.’
    Marion Taylor looked blankly over the top of the wad of tissues she held to her mouth, Dan shook his head slightly.
    ‘The papers often refer to it as the flesh-eating bug,’ said Sands, letting his voice fall to a whisper in deference to the images he knew he was conjuring up and causing Dan to close his eyes again.
    ‘And what causes that?’ asked Dan, clearing his throat and trying to sound controlled when, in reality, his heart was breaking.
    ‘It’s a rare condition, usually caused by a bacterium called streptococcus,’ said Sands. ‘It’s a strange bug because it can cause so many different conditions, ranging from sore throats to scarlet fever and unfortunately, on rare occasions, to necrotising fasciitis. We really don’t know why its behaviour can change so dramatically. But other bugs can also cause the condition, staphylococcus, clostridium, vibrio and a number of others. We’re not at all sure what triggers it off.’
    ‘And these drugs you were giving Keith …?’
    ‘In theory, they should have dealt with streptococcus, and I would have thought most of the others,’ said Sands. ‘But obviously, on this occasion, they didn’t. Hopefully the lab will be able to tell us why not.’
    ‘I want to see my son,’ said Marion Taylor in an unexpectedly firm voice.
    Sands moved uncomfortably in his chair. ‘Mrs Taylor … I really don’t think that’s a good idea …’
    ‘I want to see him.’
    Sands looked to Dan Taylor for support before saying, ‘Keith underwent a great deal of trauma before he died although I can assure you he felt no pain. He never regained consciousness. I honestly think it would be better if you just remembered Keith the way he was.’
    Dan Taylor got up and put his arms round his wife while maintaining eye contact with Sands. ‘The doctor’s right, love. Let’s just remember our lad the way he was, not as the victim of some …’ He searched for inspiration. ‘Bastard disease.’
    The words ‘flesh-eating’ were still going round and round inside his head. He was praying that Marion wouldn’t stick to her guns. She looked up at him and finally acquiesced with a small nod.
     
     
    ‘Bloody bizarre,’ muttered pathologist Simon Monkton. ‘How come the lab can’t grow anything when he’s absolutely riddled?’
    ‘I think they’re quite embarrassed about that too,’ replied Sands, who had chosen to be present at the post mortem on Keith Taylor. ‘I spoke to the consultant bacteriologist earlier. He was very apologetic.’
    Monkton gave Sands a look that suggested apologies were less than useful.
    ‘You are sure it was necrotising fasciitis?’ asked Sands.
    ‘What else could it be?’ replied Monkton. ‘It’s practically eaten the poor kid alive.’
    ‘So that’s what you will be putting down as cause of death on the death certificate?’
    Monkton paused in what he was doing and looked at Sands over his half-moon specs. ‘Of course. Why do you ask?’
    ‘The boy’s GP told me that Keith Taylor was part of a monitoring study being carried out by the Department of Health. He is obliged to inform them immediately about any health issues that crop up.’
    ‘Health issues?’ snorted Monkton. ‘I suppose you could say dying of necrotising fasciitis was a health issue that cropped up … poor kid. I take it you are absolutely sure he wasn’t taking any antibiotics when he became ill?’
    ‘That was the first thing I thought of when the lab failed to grow anything from his specimens but his GP and his family assure me that he was taking nothing apart from his usual immuno-suppressant drugs.’
    ‘Ironically, I suppose that’s probably why the infection ripped through him so fast,’ said Monkton. ‘The drugs would severely compromise his natural