At the sound of voices, I glanced over my shoulder to find Patrice setting another cocktail in front of Irv. Man, if the only thing Irv wanted to do on this trip was drink, he could have saved himself some money by having his bender at home. If he kept this up, he might not even remember taking the trip. I wondered if he’d mentioned his struggle with alcoholism on his medical history form. Probably not. He might even deny he had a problem. But thinking about the forms prompted another thought.
“Do you know how the police chose the guests they wanted to interview?”
“Well, they didn’t interview me, so whatever process they used, it’s flawed.”
“They read all our medical history forms.”
She gasped. “They can’t do that, can they? I thought the only agencies authorized to spy on Americans were the NSA, CIA, FBI, ONI, INR, IRS, online advertisers, and Facebook.”
“They did do it. So if the police were interested in what we wrote on our medical forms, do you realize what that means?”
The answer seemed to strike her like a lightning bolt, causing her to bounce excitedly on her chair. “I know, I know. Handwriting analysis!”
“What?”
“They analyzed everyone’s handwriting to see whose penmanship best fits the profile of a killer. It’s possible, Emily. The way we form our Bs and Fs can speak volumes about our potential for criminal activities. And capital Gs? They might as well be neon arrows.”
I stared at her, deadpan. “They reviewed our medical histories because they wanted to check out what drugs we’re carrying! If whatever killed Krystal came in prescription drug form, they’d want to interview anyone using the same drug to verify that the guest still had enough medication to treat his or her condition for the remainder of the trip. If someone demonstrated an obvious shortage, it would raise a flag, right?”
She twitched her lips. “I suppose. But if you ask me, the value of handwriting analysis is grossly underrated.”
“A shortage would have to be explained. And if a guest couldn’t offer a reasonable explanation as to why he’d failed to bring enough medication with him, the police would probably haul him off to the station for further questioning. Agreed?”
“Personally, I think it’s regrettable that the French police could jail someone for being absentminded, stupid, or both.”
“But that didn’t happen. The police didn’t haul anyone away, which means, if Bobbi and Dawna were questioned, they passed muster, and if they weren’t questioned, it was probably because they weren’t carrying the drug in the first place.”
Jackie sat very still, looking disappointed, but not yet willing to give up the fight. “Just because the girls didn’t list the drug on their medical histories doesn’t mean they weren’t carrying it.”
“Look, if they’d planned to kill Krystal from the get-go, they might have had a reason to omit it from the list. But if they killed her because of the bonus, like you suggested, let me remind you that none of you knew about the bonus before you left home, so there was no reason not to include it.”
“Listen, Emily,” she huffed, “you might think you’re making sense, but you’ll never convince me that—”
“Neither one of us saw them tamper with Krystal’s or Victor’s food, Jack. How did they dole out their deadly doses with everyone watching? Krystal gave one of her supplements to Woody, but other than that, no one has shared a single morsel of food with anyone else.” An image suddenly tumbled into my consciousness. “Well, other than Virginia.”
The name hung in the air between us, causing us to exchange a horrified look. “Ohmigod,” croaked Jackie. “The soup. She couldn’t get rid of her soup fast enough at dinner. Could she have—?”