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Daniel Kalla’s new thriller Fit to Die is a timely take on toxic celebrity, diet pills & online body shaming
This post originally appeared on CBC
Daniel Kalla is an emergency room physician in Vancouver who writes fiction inspired by real-life pandemics.
Kalla’s latest book is Fit to Die, a thriller novel about about celebrity, online body shaming, toxic diet pills and addiction.
In Fit to Die, a son of a prominent U.S. senator is found dead from a drug overdose. Shortly after, Dr. Julie Rees, an experienced Vancouver toxicologist, notices a growing number of overdoses among the eating disordered and body builders, and mentions it to her boyfriend, Detective Anson Chen.
When a famous pop star and social media influencer dies in her Vancouver hotel room showing the same symptoms as Dr. Rees’ other patients, it sets off a chain of events involving social media, mental health, addiction and illicit diet pills.
Kalla is the bestselling author of over a dozen novels, including The Darkness in the Light, Lost Immunity, We All Fall Down and The Last High. His books have been translated into 11 languages to date, and his Shanghai trilogy has been optioned for film.
Fit to Die will be available on May 9, 2023.
Read an excerpt from Fit to Die below.
“Someone killed him,” the woman murmurs.
Her cheeks are splotched. Her pupils huge. And her outstretched finger trembles, pointing to the corpse near her feet.
How else is a mother supposed to respond? Detective Cari Garcia wonders with a sympathetic nod as she glances around the tidy bedroom, its walls lined by framed black-and-white posters of marathon runners and races. A pair of crime technicians in white bunny suits survey the scene, acting as usual as if they’re the only living souls present. The victim lies on his back with his right leg flopped out to the side, bent at the knee and a pool of vomit puddled under his chin, which accounts for the faint sour odour drifting to Cari’s nostrils.
Cari had been on her way to dinner when the captain phoned with his urgent request. It was almost a relief to be called out to a case. She had only agreed to go on the date to appease her best friend, Benny, who insisted Cari had been “on the bench” too long since Mattias.
Her cheeks are splotched. Her pupils huge. And her outstretched finger trembles, pointing to the corpse near her feet.
Cari looks back over to the mother, whose whole body is now shaking.
“I see how it looks.” Her finger has turned on Cari. “‘Just another teen suicide. Or maybe an accidental OD. Another addict who fooled his parents.’ No fucking way! I know my Owen.” Her voice cracks and her chin drops, fractionally. “Never, never, never…”
“We don’t make any assumptions from the outset,” Cari says.
“Somebody must have killed my son!”
Cari has witnessed the same response too many times in her career. The outrage. The shock. The denial. But not in this setting. Not with the victim still splayed on the floor of his own bedroom. The uniforms would never have allowed the mother to stay in the room while two crime scene techs scoured the scene, were she not one of California’s most influential state senators — a fixture on the local news — and, according to some pundits, the front-runner to succeed the current governor.
“We’re going to find out what happened to Owen. I promise you, Senator Galloway.” Cari has to stop herself. It’s not the time or place to pose the usual questions: Did her son have mental health issues? Were there substance use concerns? Had his mood changed of late? Was there a recent breakup or any other crisis in his life? Without any visible signs of trauma, murder is already near the bottom of Cari’s list. Statistically speaking, fentanyl or some other opioid would be at the top. Suicide, a close second. Granted, there are a few anomalies, like the lack of any visible drug paraphernalia or pill bottles. Perhaps even natural causes? The boy is rail-thin. Regardless, the LAPD’s Robbery and Homicide Division would not normally have been called to a scene as tragically familiar as this one.
The finger stills and the senator’s hand drops to her side. The voice is calmer. The visage of the seasoned politician re-emerges. “What’s next, Detective Garcia?”
“We’ll start with the forensic evidence we find here.” Cari waves toward the nearest crime scene tech, who is examining the pinkish rug where Owen lies.
Owen might’ve been drugged or poisoned. But the autopsy — and especially the toxicology screen — will be essential in establishing what happened to him. And how.
Cari can tell by the way the tech avoids direct contact with the body that he’s uncomfortable with the mother’s presence. She steps out into the hallway and, without looking back, senses the senator’s hesitance to leave her son’s side. Cari cannot begin to imagine her torrent of emotions. And, as usual, she refuses to try. “Don’t catch feelings. Feelings are the investigator’s kryptonite,” her old Detective Training Unit instructor used to drill into them. “They will blind you.”
The senator finally joins Cari in the hallway, which is mercifully out of the sight line of her son’s body.
“It could be homicide.” Cari spreads her hands. “No question. Owen might’ve been drugged or poisoned. But the autopsy — and especially the toxicology screen — will be essential in establishing what happened to him. And how.”
The senator eyes her steadily. Her voice is eerily calm now, almost affable. “I get it, Detective Garcia. Anything to appease the grieving mother. You’ll go through the motions. The toxicology will find fentanyl or something even worse. And you’ll file your report. It will all be very professional and respectful. Maybe you’ll call it an accidental overdose to protect the family’s reputation.” She goes quiet and the thrum of the air conditioner fills the void. “But someone did this to my Owen. And I expect you to find out who.”
***
Over forty-five million Insta followers. Lorraine Flynn — known by most of the world as simply “Rain” — can’t believe it herself. Five years ago, she would have been thrilled to hit ten thousand. Aside from the few dogged haters, Rain basks in the online love. It immerses her. Inspires her. Lifts her up. Her music is more visceral because of it, and her acting more intimate.
Most of the time, it makes up for how much she disgusts herself.
Rain raises her foot to step forward but freezes. She has already peed twice in the past hour. She hasn’t touched a bite of food or a drop of liquid in almost fourteen hours. It’s the perfect moment to get on the scale. But her stomach still rumbles, and despite how empty it is, she swears she’s going to throw up as her big toe inches toward the scale.
There’s only one way to do it. Fast. Like diving into a frigid lake!
Rain hops onto the scale with both feet. But her breath catches. And, almost involuntarily, her eyelids slam shut. Only after she steadies her breathing does she tilt her chin down and open her eyes. How bad can it be?
“96.4” the blue numbers glow.
The elation overwhelms her. More so than if she had found another ten million Insta followers. She prayed she would be under triple digits, but this is three pounds lighter than she dared to hope.
Rain hops onto the scale with both feet. But her breath catches. And, almost involuntarily, her eyelids slam shut. Only after she steadies her breathing does she tilt her chin down and open her eyes. How bad can it be?
Rain has always been very public with her fans about her mental health struggles, especially her body image issues. She still can’t shake the painful memories of all the low points — the lowest of all being the night of her fifteenth birthday when she felt so fat and ashamed that she had no choice but to swallow every pill she could find in her parents’ medicine cabinet.
The whole world knows how much better Rain is doing since her troubled teen years. Dr. Markstrom reminds her of it almost every day. What a model she is for other kids out there who struggle with the same issues.
And Rain is happy to help. To show them what can be overcome.
She feels too contented to step off the scale. So instead, she stretches out a hand and pinches the bottle off the counter between her fingers. She taps out a single red-and-black capsule into her palm.
Fit to Die by Daniel Kalla. Published by Simon and Schuster Canada. Copyright © 2023. All rights reserved.