Chapter 252: The Foundation of Forensic Toxicology (4K8)

In the office of Scotland Yard, Arthur leaned back in his chair, twisting a dark brown hair with his hands, stretching it inch by inch, and showing it under the sunlight.

Although this hair looks ordinary, it represents a key piece of evidence for Scotland Yard.

On Arthur's desk, there is an academic paper drafted by Chief Inspector Charles Field, head of the Case Analysis Section of the Criminal Investigation Department of the Greater London Police.

This long and eloquent article includes various examples of arguments, but in summary, it is nothing more than to illustrate a conclusion - human hair grows about one centimeter per month, so according to the different parts of the hair cut, the physical condition of the victim can be chemically analyzed to find out in which period they ingested a large amount of toxins.

Here, the most appropriate verification experiment is to combine the conclusion of this paper with the Marsh arsenic test method just discovered by Mr. James Marsh, a chemical engineer at the Woolwich Arsenal.

The verification experiment of the Criminal Investigation Department yesterday showed that although arsenic existed in every part of this hair, it was surprising that the arsenic mirror phenomenon produced by the experiment was most significant near the root of the hair.

After discovering this anomaly, Arthur also specifically asked Scotland Yard to hire a doctor from St. Mary's Hospital to assist in the second professional autopsy.

However, this seemingly reasonable request almost aroused the judges' anger.

If it were hundreds of years later, the judges' anger would definitely have no basis or reason. The autopsy should be handed over to professional doctors, which seems to be natural. However, in the eyes of the judges, this is tantamount to a provocation to the entire British judicial community, because from south to north and from east to west in Britain, the coroners specially appointed by courts in various places are almost all lawyers.

Since several centuries ago, autopsy has always been the work of lawyers. In the eyes of judges, examining corpses is a legal issue, not a medical issue. Letting doctors do this is purely overstepping their authority.

If you are not an authentic British, or have not lived in a Christian society for a period of time, you will definitely not understand what the judges' thinking logic is.

But if you start from the beginning of the establishment of the British court, it is easy to understand. On the small island of Britain, residents are usually divided into parishes, so naturally, the earliest courts here are various religious courts.

The so-called religious courts, the powers and responsibilities covered are not limited to its literal meaning. Burning pagans is only one of its duties, and this duty is usually not often performed, because pagans are not so easy to find. After all, they are not grown in greenhouses and can be harvested in season.

Most of the time, religious courts are similar to the ancient Chinese government offices. When parish residents encounter problems, they will come to the religious courts to sue, such as brothers dividing the family, contract disputes, stealing, and neighbors fighting. They will come here and let the priests ask God to judge.

It is precisely because of this that the chief justices of Britain and even all European Christian countries in the past must almost all be clergy without exception.

In the early days, productivity was relatively backward. In addition to priests, there were farmers, blacksmiths, carpenters, etc. in the parishes. It was not easy to find a professional doctor in a village. The priests who studied various theological and natural science knowledge all day long naturally became the highest intellectuals in the local area.

According to Christian tradition, priests usually learn some skills to treat diseases. When the residents of the parish are sick, they usually come to the priests for help. Therefore, the priests who are judges of the religious court naturally serve as coroners.

Until here, the logic is still smooth.

But the bad thing is behind. During the reign of Henry VIII, the king divorced several times because he could not have children. In the end, the Pope of Rome resolutely stopped approving his divorce application because he saw that his divorce was too extreme.

So, Henry VIII was furious and set up his own mountain, ordered the Church of England to separate directly from the Roman Curia, set up the Anglican Church as the boss, and began to fight against the Catholic forces in the country, splitting and reorganizing various courts.

Judges are no longer the exclusive position of clergy. As time goes by, it has become a social consensus that professional lawyers should serve as judges.

But the problem is that lawyers not only took away the positions of judges from the clergy, but also took away the duties of coroners and other responsibilities that used to belong to the clergy.

This has led to the strange phenomenon that most coroners in courts around the country are lawyers.

And not surprisingly, in the case of Councillor Harrison, the coroner appointed by the Westminster Magistrates' Court was also a lawyer.

Although Arthur's suggestion that a doctor should perform an autopsy is reasonable, according to the law, the autopsy report submitted by a coroner not appointed by the court cannot be used as court evidence.

What's even more fucked up is that the judge of the Westminster Magistrates' Court is still George Norton. It is basically impossible to get him to give in on this matter.

Arthur reasonably guessed that the reason why Bernie Harrison was so fearless was probably because of this aspect.

Therefore, if Harrison refuses to withdraw the lawsuit, Scotland Yard basically has only one way to completely nail Bernie Harrison based on the chain of evidence.

If Sir Peel cannot reach an agreement with the Tories, and Bernie Harrison is still determined not to resign, Scotland Yard will have no choice but to submit the case to the House of Lords.

Because according to the law, the House of Lords, as the highest court of appeal in Britain, is the only place with the power to judge members. Arthur could only go to the House of Lords with various materials and the records and documents he had just obtained from the Thames Rescue Association for Drowning, and give them a live speech and scientific experiment in front of the Lords.

It will then be up to your Lordships to decide whether to appoint another professional doctor as the coroner to submit a reasonable and legal autopsy report.

Although this autopsy report still cannot prove that the person was killed by Congressman Bernie Harrison, it can at least prove that the victim maid definitely did not drown. If this is combined with Bernie Harrison's identity as a perfume merchant, he can escape. Judgment, I will probably be insulated from politics for the rest of my life.

And as a result, the Tories will inevitably be criticized by public opinion. After all, Bernie Harrison is their man, and this is what Sir Peel, who is committed to bridging the differences within the party, does not want to see.

When he thought of this, Arthur couldn't help but rub his face. After thinking for a long time, he finally rang the bell in the office.

Tom opened the door and came in and asked, "Arthur, what's the matter?"

Arthur clamped his hair among the papers on the table, then put them all together in a brown paper bag and handed it to Tom: "Go to Sir Peel's mansion and give these things to him. I hope the things here can help Peel." Sir, persuade Harrison to give up. If Senator Harrison is a smart man, he should know that this alone will make him get nothing."

Tom nodded in understanding. He took the brown paper bag, saluted Arthur, then closed the door and walked out.

The red devil hugged the sugar bowl and nestled on the sofa in the office. While throwing the candy into his mouth, he asked: "Arthur, I can't tell, you are still nostalgic for the old relationship. After this incident, Pierre I will definitely thank you very much. If the Tory Party can survive in the future, your contribution today is indispensable.”

Arthur picked up the teacup and took a sip: "Agares, I'm not just reminiscing about old friendship. If the Tories are split, what good will it do to everyone? Only a strong opposition party can put the greatest pressure on the ruling party. , because usually only the opposition party is the most conscientious, and one-party dominance is not a good thing in most cases.”

Agares raised his eyebrows and smiled when he heard this: "Oh? Really? Don't you have any insignificant and personal thoughts?"

"Agares, what are you thinking? I'm just a humble social instrument."

At this point, Arthur took a sip of tea and continued: "Of course, if the Tory MPs as the opposition party are willing not to create too much resistance to the police equipment update bill when the Parliament convenes next month, Of course, we at Scotland Yard are very happy to see it. You know, boys always like to pick up some new toys. I look at that Colt revolver. Well... maybe I will give it a try in a few days. You should persuade the American guy to set up a factory in London as soon as possible. His family seems to be quite wealthy, so setting up a production line first won't be a problem... By the way, we have to solve the patent issue first, as Americans are working in Britain. It’s not convenient after all. Maybe I should advise him to become a British citizen so that we can use our own things without worry.”

When Arthur said this, he suddenly found Agares's red eyes staring at him intently. The smile on the corner of the red devil's mouth made people feel indescribably disgusting.

Arthur coughed slightly and reemphasized: "Of course, you understand that the purchase of Colt revolvers is not a matter of personal preference. Scotland Yard will fully respect the parliamentary decision."

Agares nodded repeatedly, rubbed his hands and said with a bad smile: "Yes, yes, that's right, Scotland Yard is just responding to the call of the general public. After all, you can't treat every operation like the Battle of Waterloo at the Regency Crescent. You are not the British Army."

When Arthur heard this, he remembered that he seemed to have forgotten something. He suddenly stood up and was about to go out, but halfway through, he suddenly turned his head and grabbed a bottle of alcoholic beverage originally purchased from the Jermyn Street store. Putting the cocoa powder from Central and South America into his pocket, Arthur looked at the trademark on the tin and said to himself: "Alexander liked this cocoa powder quite a bit when he drank it, but I just don't know if it was his French genes." The effect still brought back the memories of his old grandmother in his body.”

…

There is an area in the cell in Scotland Yard that is obviously different from other cells.

There are two skylights thoughtfully opened on the red brick wall. The not too big bed is also covered with two clean and tidy quilts that look like just bought quilts. There is also a simple dressing table next to the bed. What makes the other prisoners unbelievable is that the dressing table is filled with various bottles and jars of pomade, cologne and other things, as if it is just for women, and there is even a luxurious bottle. Mirror.

But this is not what makes the prisoners feel novel. What makes them most envious is that there is a small dining table in the cell. Not only that, when eating every day, everyone eats black bread and potatoes, but only that person But he was served four dishes and one soup.

However, despite being greedy, none of the prisoners envied this kind of treatment.

Everyone guessed that the four-eyed boy who was locked up there must have a few days to live. He was going to be hanged in a few days. Why would he be jealous of him?

And just two days ago, there was one more person who made everyone envious but not jealous.

A sturdy young man moved in next door to the four-eyed boy, and the two were treated basically the same.

Perhaps due to the mutual sympathy of 'high-end technical talents', or the unique sympathy of death row inmates, the two of them often chatted through a window that could only fit half of their faces.

"Mr. Wheatstone, I remember you said that you were a researcher of natural philosophy, specializing in the field of acoustics?"

"Actually, I have also dabbled in electromagnetism, but for some unexplainable reasons, I cannot reveal too much about my scientific research results. However, I can tell you about things in the field of acoustics. Do you know about the gramophone? London All gramophones on the market are my products.”

"Are you the inventor of the phonograph?" Louis Bonaparte exclaimed: "Oh my God! Are the British crazy? Why would they put such an outstanding person as you in prison?"

Whetstone's eyes were as snowy as he lit the cigar placed next to the table, leaned against the wall of the cell and blew out a long puff of smoke: "This is a long story."

When Louis Bonaparte heard this, he pushed a bottle of gin just delivered this morning through the grating of the window: "You have a story, I have a drink, let's have a good chat. By the way, where are you?" Do you have any more cigars? Can you give me one too?”

When Wheatstone heard this, he grabbed a handful from the cigar box next to him and stuffed it into it: "Smoke, smoke hard, anyway, he said, all my consumption here will be recorded in his account, you don't need to Be polite to me."

Louis Bonaparte bit off the end of his cigar and spit it on the ground. Then he lit a fire and took a sip. He felt his whole body became energetic: "By the way, who is the person you just mentioned?"

"Who else could it be?"

Wheatstone said: "That rogue gentleman who is well-known in all walks of life in London, the leader of the street gangsters, the gangster of Scotland Yard, who can draw a sword to fight against the gangsters, and bully good citizens at the bottom. He can also play beautifully in concerts." A grand pianist who plays music, a shameless man who enjoys lying on the eaves and eavesdropping on secret conversations in boudoirs, a disciple of Lord Justice Brougham, a police star highly regarded by the Duke of Wellington, police number MPS6- 001’s owner, Superintendent Arthur Hastings, who has a pathological protective streak of imprisonment.”

"Hiss..." Louis Bonaparte took a puff of his cigar: "So you were also brought in by him?"

When Wheatstone heard this, he raised his fingers and pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses: "Yeah? How did you get in?"

Louis Bonaparte held a cigar in his hand and said with a look of sadness: "I... I guess I offended him? When I was being interrogated that day, I seemed to agree with others and called him an Englishman who has not yet bald. Baldy."

"Oh..." Wheatstone nodded slightly and said, "Then you came in because you opposed Arthur Hastings?"

"That's right. How did you get in?"

"I did it for supporting Arthur Hastings."

"I'm just different from both of you."

"Huh? What do you do?"

"I am Arthur Hastings."

Arthur, who was leaning against the wall between the two cells with his hands wrapped around him, exerted a slight force on his back, and his whole body jumped up.

He stood in the middle of the two cells, and only half of his face could be seen from each cell.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and asked: "I felt relieved when I saw the two gentlemen chatting so happily. I originally thought that you would be locked up for some psychological problems. Now it seems that my worries are really a bit It’s superfluous.”

When Wheatstone saw Arthur appearing, he rushed to the door, slapped the cell door, and shouted at Arthur through the small window on the door: "Arthur, it's been a few days, you should also put me in jail." Have you let it out?"

Seeing him like this, Arthur just shrugged and said: "Charles, you are so heartless to say that. Do you know how much effort the bureau has put into making you live in peace of mind?"

Wheatstone questioned: "How much effort has been expended? Can the living environment here be compared to the Regency Crescent Building?"

Arthur heard this and said helplessly: "Of course we can't move your house here, but in order to make you live comfortably, we specially invited your neighbors here."

Wheatstone asked in confusion: "Neighbor?"

Arthur nodded slightly. He pointed at Louis Bonaparte and said, "Don't you know that? This Mr. Louis Bonaparte should live next door to you in the future. The bureau knows that you are very interested in social life." Psychological disorder, so isn’t he specially invited to get you familiar with it? Charles, you must understand that for you, everyone in Scotland has been under a lot of pressure.”