Chapter 5 Back in the Lab
Dr. Walsh swept through the laboratory doors, rainwater dripping from her coat in rivulets. Inspector Grey had urgently requested her expertise to analyze a suspicious parcel.
After peeling off her wet coat and gloves, Walsh set about familiarizing herself with the unfamiliar lab.
The well-proportioned Dr. Anne Freeman, the forensic pathologist in charge, walked in from the neighboring room. Walsh noticed right away her pink chipped nail polish, sensible flats, and ginger-wavy hair.
"Alright there, Doctor Walsh?" Freeman inquired while rolling the dial-up on her preferred Beatles album, Revolver.
"I hope you don't mind the music. It can half get tedious some days down ere'," she said in her thick Scouse accent.
Dr. Walsh smiled at Dr. Freeman's informal candor.
"It's no problem at all. Thank you for letting me sit in on your lab. I was getting tired of walking around in the mud all day."
"We crime-solving puzzlers must band together! Now, shall we crack on?"
The inner workings of the Merseyside Police's forensics lab hummed with equipment. UV lamps illuminated the windowless room in a sterile purple glow. Workbenches lined the walls, covered in microscopes, computers, centrifuges, and other forensic tools.
The air carried the distinct chemical smells lingering from the various reagents and solvents routinely used within the lab.
Dr. Freeman gestured to a side bench.
"We keep extra PPE there for our guests.
For someone of your, shall we say, 'petite' stature, I'm sure you'll swim in those coveralls."
Dr. Walsh donned the protective gear—shoe covers, a mask, and gloves—before approaching the evidence bag.
She shrugged her shoulders in the oversized coverall.
"Not my most stylish ensemble, but it does the job. Safety first, fashion second! I guess."
Dr. Freeman gave her a cheeky wink.
"Hear, hear! The case of the baffling barn blob begins."
Dr. Walsh nodded in agreement.
"Let's get to work then."
With a fresh pair of gloves and trusty tweezers, Dr. Freeman inspected the package. She then carefully extracted the supplement and sealed the bag. She looked at Dr. Walsh.
"I read your autopsy reports. It's weird that you didn't find a clear cause of death, right?"
"It was pretty strange. However, after further testing, we found that the horse's adrenal glands were enlarged and congested, and their cortisol and adrenaline levels were extremely elevated."
"Those symptoms suggest prolonged physiological distress—or an artificial stimulant of some kind."
“There was also slight hemorrhaging in muscle tissue, indicating extreme physical exertion," Dr. Walsh continued.
"That certainly sounds suspicious. Healthy animals don't just suddenly go crazy and drop dead, especially multiple competitors from different stables," Dr. Freeman quizzed.
Dr. Freeman concentrated on examining the package, noticing a sticky yellow residue coating part of the inner surface. She picked up tweezers and a slide.
"Let's collect a sample, but we need to document the supplement first," Dr. Freeman said.
She retrieved a camera and macro lens from a side shelf.
"We'll need detailed photos to document any clues. Here, why don't you photograph the evidence?" Dr. Freeman offered, passing the camera to Dr. Walsh.
Dr. Walsh secured the camera, attaching the macro lens, and peered through the viewfinder.
The macro lens enabled her to zoom in on the package. She photographed the strange barcodes, text, edges, and seams from various angles.
Once she had photographed every millimeter of the supplement, Dr. Walsh powered off the camera, satisfied.
"These photos will serve as an excellent baseline!"
Dr. Freeman scooped up the secondary containment bag containing the residue and held it up to the light.
"The residue is an amber-colored gel drop around 3 centimeters wide."
"Anything distinctive about it?" Dr. Walsh inquired
"From what I can see It is transparent with a smooth gel-like texture. I think a liquid of some sort evaporated, leaving this residue.
There are no solid particles or separation of components, suggesting it was a homogeneous liquid, leaving this uniform gel deposit!"
"A supplement for horses would likely be a liquid solution for easy dosing," Dr. Walsh stated.
"Indeed," Dr. Freeman concurred.
"There are no detectable leaks or spills beyond this single residual drop."
"And the markings—any clues there?" Dr. Walsh asked.
Dr. Freeman examined the barcode.
"Just this label; apart from that, the surface is featureless save for minor abrasions."
"Our next step should be weighing the supplement," Dr. Freeman said.
"Good idea."
Dr. Freeman retrieved an analytic scale from her stock of equipment, noticing Dr. Walsh's sense of unease.
"Is something on your mind, Dr. Walsh?"
"I know it's your lab. Would you mind switching the music to something slower or turning it a bit lower? The lively tempo makes it hard for me to focus."
"Of course! We, pathologists, absorb the energy around us, don't we?"
She killed off the Beatles and tuned in the radio to a classical music channel at slightly lower decibels this time.
As Vivaldi's Four Seasons spread through the lab with soothing strings, Dr. Walsh's mind calmed.
"That's much better. I hope you're not offended."
"I understand. When I need to zero in, my trusty Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra playlist keeps me focused. I've got over 12 hours of the Beatles' back catalog in orchestral form. Do you fancy some of that instead?"
Dr. Walshed laughed. "I swear you are obsessed; I was more of a Rolling Stones fan when I was growing up.”
"You can take the girl out of Liverpool, but you can't take the Scouser out of me! Right, you are!"
Dr. Freeman lifted the secondary bag, placing it on the calibrated metal pan of the analytical balance, securing it tightly with clamp clips.
She crouched over the digital display, recording the reading: '0.349 grams'.
"Is that within the accuracy tolerance?" asked Dr. Walsh.
"Give or take a milligram; the results should be reliable enough!"
Through spectrographic analysis and comparing various hypotheses to the data, the scientists were able to deduce a feasible molecular structure for the amber residue.
The duo then performed a battery of chemical tests, revealing specific compounds within the residue and how they interacted.
The tests revealed the residue contained various stimulants, preservatives, and compounds that would produce effects like enlarged adrenal glands and elevated cortisol when consumed. After running every possible analysis within their lab's capabilities, the scientists arrived at an inescapable conclusion.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
The amber residue contained a liquid compound purposefully designed to push horses beyond their natural limits, illegally enhancing performance through physiological effects that ultimately proved deadly.
Now they had to determine just how deadly it was.
With their analyses complete, they both removed their PPE, dropping them in the laundry hamper.
"Blimey, what a day!" Dr. Freeman said.
"I could en' half kill for some fish and chips!"
"Some nourishment would be most welcome, though seafood tends to give me hives."
"I apologize; I didn't realize," said Dr.Freeman.
"How about pizza instead?"
"Perfect," replied Dr. Walsh.
"While we wait, a cup of tea would hit the spot too."
Dr. Walsh paused in quiet contemplation.
"As unpleasant as it sounds, we need to know the residue's effects in vivo before proceeding further. Animal studies using laboratory rats could provide insight into the substance's physiological and toxicity profiles."
"An animal model would allow us to examine doses proportional to those given to racehorses, monitor vital signs, and collect organ specimens for more detailed analysis," Dr. Freeman hypothesized.
"Fortunately, we have laboratory rats readily available. Why don't we take a short break while I arrange for their delivery?" Dr.Freeman said.
"And as a bonus, I will get the guys to order the pizza for us as well."
"Now you're talking," Dr. Walsh said.
"Dr. Freeman. After you!"
They retreated to the break room just outside the lab; evening had fallen now.
The rain thumped against the windows. The street lamps that overlooked the staff car park cast their pearlescent glow upon the green walls of the staff room, upon which diagrams of human anatomy hung on framed sheets. Dr. Freeman set the kettle to boil, making her famous Tiffen tea, passing one to Dr. Walsh in a chipped ceramic mug.
They sank into worn but comfortably upholstered chairs arranged around a scarred wooden coffee table in the center of the room.
A crackling radio in the corner played tinny tunes. When the pizza arrived, the scientists enjoyed several slices in companionable silence before the radio abruptly cut the music off.
"We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news.
Chief Inspector Thomas Sanderson of Scotland Yard has been found dead in the late afternoon."
They both looked up sharply at the radio. Pizza slices paused in midair.
The announcer continued:
"Official reports indicate his body was discovered in Staple Brook, near his country home. Police are now investigating the incident as a suspected murder investigation."
"Oh, dear, poor Sanderson. I knew him from my time working in the Yard. A good man," Dr. Freeman gasped.
Dr.Walsh slowly shook her head, her eyes darkening.
"Why such barbarity for an honorable man like Sanderson?"
The announcer reported that Scotland Yard has launched a full-scale manhunt, describing him as a distinguished officer with an impeccable record, leaving behind a wife and two children.
The announcer's words hit hard.
"Chief Sanderson's brutal murder has shocked the entire Metropolitan Police force.
Police describe his tragic death as both a personal tragedy and a professional setback as investigators search for those responsible for such a heinous crime!"
Dr. Walsh switched to her colleague, a troubled look on her dimpled face.
"Things are changing. And not for the better!"
Dr. Freeman got up and turned off the radio, an uneasy silence filling the room. After a moment, she said gingerly.
"This feels somehow connected to the case that brought you here. The timing is too coincidental."
"I fear you're right. Sanderson must have been close to uncovering something explosive. This is going to put a fly in the ointment of Inspector Grey's investigation."
A lab technician knocked on the break room door.
"Pardon the interruption, Dr. Freeman. The testing equipment has been prepared and samples collected as you requested."
Dr. Freeman swallowed the last of her slices.
"Thank you. We'll be along shortly."
She looked to Dr. Walsh. "Inspector Sanderson's death is a tragic loss. But it also reinforces how critical our work is."
Dr. Walsh stood up. "Let's get suited up then and give Inspector Grey something to work with."
She raised her teacup. "To Chief Inspector Thomas Sanderson: shall we?"
"Hear, hear," Dr. Freeman replied, raising her teacup.
On their return to the lab, the fluorescent lights momentarily flickered.
While the case had grown murkier, their resolve to discover the facts had only strengthened. The lab tech had divided 24 rats into two cages, isolating them in environmentally controlled conditions.
Rat chow had been prepared with different residue concentrations: 0.5% for cage A and 1% for cage B.
Dr. Walsh inspected the syringes aligned in racks, each dosed to match a corresponding solution.
"We'll inject equivalent amounts by weight, starting with the lowest concentration, and work our way up the range."
"Agreed," Dr.Freeman said.
"The staggered dosing regimen will reveal the compound's toxicity threshold and the extremes of physiological response before mortality occurs."
Dr. Walsh nervously tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, picking up the micropipette filled with the lowest concentration.
The slim tip felt cold and smooth against her gloved hands, its precise calibration marks ran from 0.1 to 10 mL.
She carefully squeezed the rubber bulb, depositing the measured solution into a sterile microcentrifuge tube. Dr. Walsh then filled a sterile syringe with the residue solution, attached to a thin gavage needle.
"I'll administer the initial doses," Dr. Walsh said firmly.
"You monitor the rats and document any observable reactions—changes in behavior, movements, or vital signs."
"I'll get the camera set up."
Dr. Freeman walked to the video camera and tripod.
She then wiped the lens, checking the SD card. Then she adjusted the focus wheel with its ridged dial that spun under her hand as she panned the viewfinder across the two stainless steel cages against the back wall.
"The camera's ready," she announced.
"We can begin wherever you are."
The furry bodies and twitching whiskers of the rodents elicited empathy from both scientists. Yet, they needed to determine how much of the residue would pose harm when ingested. Dr. Walsh squeezed the rubber bulb, releasing a droplet of residue onto the rat chow. It smelled slightly stale and musty, with a hint of dried oats.
The rats sniffed curiously at the amber residue. One bold rat licked a minuscule drop.
Dr.Walsh made the first note in her lab book: 'Time 0. Rats appear curious but unaffected'.
Minutes ticked by. The rats settled into their usual routine of gnawing blocks, drinking from feeder bottles, and running on their exercise wheel.
Dr. Walsh wrote, '5 minutes elapsed. No visible effects'.
Dr. Walsh then dosed cage B with a slightly higher concentration. The rats repeated the same process: sniffing, licking, and grooming.
Suddenly, one rat in cage B began darting frenetically around the cage, crashing into bars and roughly dominating its cage mates.
The others grew agitated, biting and fighting each other in a rage.
Dr.Walsh frowned and made another note.
'The rats in cage B are going crazy, hyper, and attacking each other.'
The rats now charged at the cage bars, whiskers quivering, eyes with frenzied ferocity, ripping, mauling, and killing each other.
Dr. Walsh's gloved hand tightened around her notepad while the rats viciously attacked each other, displaying uncharacteristic violence and aggression.
She wrote, 'Previously, a docile cage of rats transformed within minutes. Becoming ruthless, bloodthirsty'.
The experiment had spiraled out of control. They both watched in disgust. The residue had turned normally harmless lab rats into brutal murderers. Dr. Freeman shuddered, feeling like she was watching a snuff film unfold.
"Bare traces of the residue have transformed them into vicious little killing machines," she said, appalled.
"The residue appears to have activated the amygdala, intensifying aggression and emotional responses. It seems to be overwhelming the prefrontal cortex." Dr. Walsh said through a wavering voice.
A grim realization dawned.
"Someone has deliberately designed this compound to unleash a dark part of an animal's very nature," Dr. Walsh said. Dr.Freeman shook her head sadly.
"A diabolical formula that subverts the very essence of what makes a creature civilized,"
They watched the gruesome scene unfold with growing dismay as theory gave way to chilling reality.
The lab was abuzz with ululations, snarls of pure savagery as rats attacked anew. Shredded flesh and crushed bones littered the cage floor. After minutes of clawing, biting, and trampling, cage A and cage B fell silent. Dr. Walsh trembled.
"We must isolate the active compound and devise a treatment before more creatures succumb!"
She grabbed her mobile phone.
"I must call Inspector Grey at once and brief him on our findings."
As she detailed their key results to Inspector Grey over the phone, Dr. Freeman accessed the video files from the experiment to compress and send along with their report.
After ending the call, Dr. Walsh said, "Inspector Grey sounded both alarmed and grateful. He'll be following up on our results."
"The video files have been attached to an email summarizing our process and findings. I hit send a few moments ago."
Both of the cages held only one dominant rat, fur matted with the blood of its fallen cagemates. Dr. Freeman was in disbelief.
"We've done all we can for now. The rest is up to Inspector Grey and the Yard."
The grueling day of tests had taken its toll.
"Come," said Dr. Freeman.
"Let us have another cup of my Tiffen tea."
Dr. Walsh had one final look at the last two rats, viciously biting the bars of their cages, their eyes glinting menacingly back at her in the purple haze of the UV lamps.
"Splendid idea; I am beaten."
The scientists left the lab, leaving behind a now-solved puzzle and a stubbornly unsolved case.