Bottled in Blonde
an excerpt

“When you came in, we were discussing what's been done about stopping the thionite traffic. I'd just commented that it leads to very distinctive medical problems. Would anybody like to list them?”
Yes, sir, I would.” This was Gable again. Maybe he wanted to redeem himself after his false step on the recorder, and if so, I was glad to give him a chance.
“Very well, go ahead.”
“Yes, sir. Thionite is an ecstatic hallucinogen in the form of a purplish powder, taken nasally. The sniffer has, for a short period, the experience of having their every desire fulfilled, all at once. Then, when the effect wears off, they come back to reality. Generally, they're so happy that they don't care that their heart's pounding, their blood pressure's elevated and they're almost too tired to stand up for several minutes. The only thing they want at that time is another sniff. Of course, they don't take one because they only buy it one dose at a time.”
“And why is that?”
“The physical effects are so strong, sir, that two doses, one after the other, are generally fatal. Of course, as time goes on, they need bigger and bigger doses to get the thrills they want, and eventually their body just gives out.”
“What's the cause of death?”
“Unless the coroner is suspicious, or notices certain...characteristics...it's generally listed as either heart failure or a massive stroke. Traces of the drug remain in the body, however, and can easily be detected if you're looking.”
“You said there were certain characteristics. What are they?”
“Well, sir,” he continued, “as I said, you feel as though every desire is granted. Some of them are physical, and there is, in a man, at least...release. It's not so obvious, of course, in a woman, but a good post mortem will show that the deceased was in a state of arousal at the time of death, and that can cause the coroner to check for thionite.”
“Very good. And what is the drug's demographic?”
“Sir?:
“What type of person is most likely to take the drug?”
“I don't know, sir. It wasn't covered in my briefing.”
This stopped me. I thought back, bringing up everything I'd been briefed on before this mission and realized that there'd been a great, gaping hole in what we'd been given to work with. “You're right. It wasn't in mine, either. Anybody?” There was a pause, while everybody tried to come up with something and failed. “OK, let's see if we can work it out on our own. Is it a poor man's drug?”
No, sir, I don't think it is,” Bush replied. “I'm sure they'd love to use it, but it's too expensive. They can get high on other drugs for a lot less money.”
“Good. We've eliminated the poor. How about the rich?”
“No. They don't have to drug themselves to feel like they've got everything they want; they can afford to buy whatever they think they need.”
“Thank you, Charlotte. That leaves us the middle class. Right?”
Gable held up a hand, as if to ask everybody to wait a moment. Then, in a very thoughtful tone, “Not all the middle class.”
“What do you mean?”
“You might say that there are three types of middle class. The first has just pulled themselves up out of the gutter, or is just hanging on. They're too busy holding on to their position to waste time or money on things like thionite. The second is busy trying to pull themselves into the upper class; they're full of drive, too ambitious to take a chance playing with fire.”
“And the third type,” Huston asked.
Gable sighed. “They're the type I know best. Middle class and stuck with it. They've got ambition, all right, but it doesn't do them any good. They don't have the drive, they don't have the luck or they're just not quite good enough to go any further. All they have is frustration because they're going nowhere. That's the family I came from. Dad's always wanted to better himself, but every time he's tried, something's gone wrong. That's why I joined up: all I could see for myself was following his footsteps down the same dead end and I didn't want that. Dad's a straight arrow; he'd never consider using drugs or anything, but if he did, thionite's the one he'd pick.”
“So,” I said, getting up and starting to pace, “you think thionite's the drug of choice for the frustrated, the also-rans and the wannabes. Right?”
“Put that way, sir, it sounds kind of...”
“No, no, stick to your guns. If that's what you think, don't be afraid to say so.”
“Well, in that case, sir, if I had to guess, that's the way I'd go.”
“Very well, that's better than nothing. Huston, I want you to break down what you've gotten from the cops and the media and see if it fits what Gable's been saying. I also want you to get whatever you can from the hospital records and see how that fits in. I don't know how it's going to help us, or if it will, but having a profile of your typical thionite sniffer certainly can't hurt.”