Pascoe was indeed in a sour mood. Wield had contacted Sheffield as requested and got the bare bones of the dead student business. 'Seems this lad wasn't doing too well. Johnson was his main tutor and it fell to him to warn the boy that if his work didn't improve, he was out. There was a vital piece of work, some kind of dissertation, due in early in the summer term but the lad didn't show up with it and a couple of days later he was found dead in his room. Drug overdose. No suicide note. In fact his dissertation papers were all over the floor and it looked like he'd been trying to keep himself sharp in order to get the thing finished and he'd overdone it. The inquest jury brought in accident. But Johnson seemed convinced it was suicide and took it very personally, so much so he wanted a change of scene at any price, and in the end, got a special dispensation to take up this job at MYU even though he couldn't give the required amount of notice.' 'And that's it?' said Pascoe. 'No mention ofRoote?' 'They didn't mention him and I wasn't going to, was I?' 'You could have dug a bit deeper,' suggested Pascoe ungraciously. 'Still could.' 'Look, Pete, I got what they had to give me. This was supposed to be about possible state of mind in a possible suicide case, right? That was just about plausible. But now we know that Johnson's death was definitely a Wordman killing, state of mind doesn't come into it. If you find something to tie Roote into all these killings, the super will give you a medal. But you've got to keep an open mind. No joy at the hospital either. If they lost any Midazolam, they've covered it up and are keeping it covered. So my advice is, forget Sheffield.' There had risen to Pascoe's lips a sharp reproof based on