Tony picked through the toppings on his pizza with his finger. "What did the autopsy report show?"

"Well, not a very good lunch table topic, but... her liver and kidneys were destroyed. Her hair was falling out and her fingernails had turned black. She must have done herself in with some kind of poison."

Tony noticed that Reggie wasn't devouring his lunch as usual. "Come on, Reggie. Stella was beautiful, at least up to a little while ago. She had plans to retire in Monaco, for heaven sake. Suicide just doesn't fit her persona. Too much to live for. I heard she was to make Vice President of Finance in your department."

"Yeah. That was the word around the proverbial water cooler. Everyone was surprised at how fast she was rising to the top."

Tony saw the long, narrow pizza parlor begin to fill up as groups of hungry lunch time patrons made their way to the back of the shop. He leered at a gaggle of giddy young secretaries giggle their way into a nearby booth. He overheard the heftiest one of them inhale, comment on the luscious aroma of oregano,

garlic and cheese as she settled in, rocking the pew-like seat against the wall.

"I remember you had quite a crush on hot little Stella for a while when she was first hired. Right, Tony?"

"Yeah." Tony's eyes began to glaze. He lowered his head and stared at his sauce stained paper plate. "She and I were an item for a few months some time ago. I wouldn't have minded a long-term relationship with her. She was cool. Quite the lover. Can't believe she's dead." He downed his soda. "You dated her too, for a time, as I remember."

"Yeah." Reggie pushed his half-full plate to the center of the table. "Boy, did I ever. I never told anyone this, but I think she thought I was too heavy. And only a director, not a company officer."

Tony noticed a stiletto-like quality in his lunch partner's voice. "So that's the reason you joined the company health club. I seem to remember you dropped about fifty pounds or so back then. I noticed imprints on your belts where your waist had previously been. As I remember, we didn't see much of each other then. We stopped car pooling."

"Don't know what the hell she saw in you," Reggie said. He rubbed his thumb and fingers with a napkin.

Tony shrugged. "I got the idea she didn't want to waste too much time on me. Hell, what could just a manager of the analytical quality control lab do for an ambitious broad like her? She was heavily into company execs."

"Humph. Just because you used to date her, that doesn't make you an expert on human behavior."

"I still haven't been able to get her death out of my head," Tony said. "Hell, I can't eat any more." He wiped his mouth on several paper napkins. "I see you didn't finish your pizza, either, Reggie. That's not like you."

"Yeah. Don't know what's the matter with me." He rubbed his hands together, then he rubbed his temples with his hands. "My fingertips tingle. I'll get the check this time. It's my turn."

"Good. I was about to remind you."

The two men left the pizza parlor and walked the two blocks back to their company's office building. Reggie complained of the distance as they both entered the elevator.

"I'll meet you in the parking garage at five-thirty as usual," Tony said.

"Yeah. Well, here's my fifth floor," Reggie said. "Wonder if anything else has happened. The idiot accounting department has really been humming since this Stella thing.

"Cheer-up, for heaven sake," Tony said. "See ya later." As Reggie exited the elevator rubbing his head, Tony yelled, "Did your personality go the way of your appetite?" The elevator doors slapped shut before Tony finished his remark. He felt the weight of the pizza in his stomach quadruple as the elevator jerked to the sixth floor. He belched and thought Reggie had put on a lot of weight since Reggie and Stella split.

In his laboratory, Tony opened a toxicology text he signed out from the company library. "Symptomology of Chemical Poisoning," by Dr. Schmar T. Tass, Diplomat of the American College of Toxicology. Soon he picked up his phone and called his luncheon partner.

"Reggie, the signs of poisoning described in the autopsy report can be found under mercury poisoning. And our company is listed as one of the suppliers of mercury. This stuff is highly toxic, I mean, really bad stuff."

"Get over it, man. We'll find out what killed her from the tox report at the coroner's office. You're wasting your time. My guess is lots of chemicals knock out kidneys and liver."

"That's for sure. See ya."

Tony read on and made some notes. Poor Stella. Poisoning. What a horrible way to go. Slow and painful. How awful. And such a waste. What a great broad.

From the car pool parking lot, Reggie swung into the traffic in front of an eighteen wheeler. "I called the coroner's office. Stella died from an overdose of mercury," Reggie said. "They seem to think it was self administered.

Damn. My finger tips are tingling." He seemed not to hear the air horn behind him.

"Yeah? Well, your driving tingles me a bit, too."

"It's my head, man. I've been having some pretty hairy headaches lately."

"That story about Stella killing herself is pure bullcrap. She was just too vivacious and fun loving. And a great, er, lover, as you know," Tony said.

Reggie frowned. He swung out into the fast lane.

"Nope," Tony said. "Her death is not logical. And I learned this afternoon that there are lots of different kinds of mercury."

"For example," Reggie said as he stared at Tony.

"Hey, watch out. You're wandering out of your lane."

"Oh. Sorry. I'm not feeling my best. My vision gets blurry sometimes."

"Yeah. You don't look so great. Pizza get to ya? Anyway, it seems there are several forms of mercury, all with different toxicities."

"Is that so? Like what?"

"Well, take dimethylmercury. That's one of the worst. Not like metallic mercury. You know, the kind you rubbed on pennies to make them silver like dimes, when you were a kid."

"What's the difference? What makes that stuff so bad?" He glanced at Tony again, then shut off the background music from the CD player.

"Plenty. It's a colorless liquid. The toxicity symptoms may be similar, but the dimethyl stuff can be a super quick killer. Like, feelings in the hands go away, the brain gets screwed up, and ultimately, the major organs fail."

"And that's what makes the dimethyl stuff so bad?"

"Well, the really bad part is that this hairy stuff goes right through the skin, it gets absorbed in seconds. It even gets through latex gloves in fifteen seconds or less. So people who work with the stuff need to use special precautions, work in a chemical fume hood vented to the outside, use special nitrile rubber gloves and use a respirator. Otherwise, it kills handlers with impunity."

"You're pullin' my chain," Reggie said. The car wandered.

Reggie lurched the car back onto the road from the shoulder.

"What's the matter, Reggie? You look lousy."

"I gotta see a doctor. Okay if I drop you at the bus stop over there?

Tony watched perspiration begin to roll down Reggie's pallid face. The car lurched to a stop after jumping the curb near the bus stop. Tony stared at his driver a moment and then got out.

"An antidote. There's got to be an antidote," Reggie mumbled.

"My God, Reggie." Tony held the door open, leaning into the car, gaping at Reggie's wide eyes and moist ashen skin. "What the hell have you done... Why?"

"I gotta go." The car screeched from the bus stop and rocketed into traffic.

"Geeze, Reggie," Tony said out loud. "What the hell got into you? She was a great gal, but... but not worth...?" Disbelief flooded his thoughts. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he watched Reggie's car swerve and become swallowed up in commuter traffic. Tony leaned against the bus stop sign. He shoved his hands in his pockets searching for bus fare and began to hyperventilate. He stared at his shoes and mumbled, "Geeze. Not everybody knows that chelating antidotes won't work if they're not begun soon enough." He stared off into the oncoming traffic and watched as a bus drew near. "I guess, no matter how long you know someone, you never really know them."

Then he heard it. Screeching tires, crunching metal, shattering glass and plastic, the gut souring sounds of a multiple car wreck. He lowered his head and kicked the bus stop sign with his shoe. "Geeze, Reggie. Now who have you killed?"