Dead Heat
“I am drenched with sweat, after pumping Meyer’s massive chest for fifteen minutes while we waited for the ambulance to arrive.‘I don’t know. It’s pretty difficult to kill yourself with modern sleeping pills. The lethality has been designed out of them. Especially if you’re the size of Lucas Meyer. And especially if your body has ejected half of what you swallowed. But if he pulls through, I’m not sure we’ll have done him any favours.’Paz steals a glance at me.‘Why not?’‘His fingers were blue, P...az. The lack of oxygen will have ruined his brain, and the Zopiclone will have ruined his liver. If he lives, he’ll never wrestle again. He’ll probably never speak again.’The ambulance hits a pothole, and Paz swerves to avoid doing the same.‘That’s a pity,’ she says. ‘I’ve got a stack of questions I’d like to ask him.’It takes fifteen minutes to reach the hospital, and another three to negotiate the swarm of white minibuses and the badly parked cars. Paz flashes her badge and we’re waved through the security checkpoint in time to see Meyer being pulled from the back of the ambulance.MoreLess
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