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‘Go on.’
‘If it’s the first reason, I’ve got to tell you that Mr Stahl is a wreck right now. He’s a serious alcoholic. Has untold liver damage and when the blood tests come back, I suspect he’ll have the hepatitis alphabet as well. He’s drunk by nine in the morning and he only gets drunker. If we withhold alcohol from him before the meeting he’ll get life-threatening withdrawal symptoms.’
‘And if I want to kill him?’
‘He’s trying to drink himself to death,’ Poe said. ‘Just how much satisfaction will you get from that? The poor bastard will probably welcome it.’
The Botanist didn’t respond.
Mathers nodded appreciatively at Poe. ‘Good job,’ she whispered.
‘I have a solution though,’ Poe said.
‘I thought you might.’
‘Give me a fortnight.’
‘And what will that buy you?’
‘I can get him ready in two weeks,’ Poe said. ‘I’ve spoken to a doctor and he tells me Mr Stahl’s alcohol addiction is so advanced it requires a medically supervised detox. He’ll be treated as an inpatient and will be sober when he comes out.’
‘Mr Stahl has agreed to this?’
‘He hasn’t been told yet, but I think he will.’
‘You have ten days,’ the Botanist said.
The phone went dead.
