Anyway, I just hope it’s all plausible and believable. I didn’t go too in-depth for that reason. If anyone knowledgeable notices anything that’s a little far-fetched or is completely inaccurate, please let me know. Other than that, enjoy!Beta: Much thanks and appreciation goes to my superbeta, the ever-awesome Barb (Bank1115). She’s amazing! This story would not be where it’s at right now without her encouragement and assistance—whether it be prodding me and my muse along or correcting my boo-boos. She even helps me with research!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
What Are You, Mick St. John?—Chapter 3
Carl didn’t tell the lab tech where he had recovered the prints. A couple hours later, Sam called Carl back down to the lab.
“What do you have for me, Sammy?”
“We’ve got prints from two different persons, Lieutenant.”
“Two?!” Carl exclaimed. Please tell me one of them is Mick St. John! “Are either identifiable?”
“Yes; both, in a sense.”
Carl raised an eyebrow.
Sam continued, “One belongs to a PI named Mick St. John.”
Carl breathed a sigh of relief. Wait a minute—why am I relieved that St. John’s prints were inexplicably found on the roof?! “—And the other?”
“The other set matches Unknown A, whose prints were on the interior of the side door.”
Carl furrowed his brow. So this unknown subject had came in the same impossible way that St. John had? What the hell is going on here? “You couldn’t match any of Unknown A’s prints to the driver’s licence database?”
“No. There was one thumbprint on the door and one on the roof; both were smudged, unfortunately.”
“Damn. Okay, thanks, Sammy.” He turned to go.
“Lieutenant, wait—”
Carl stopped and looked back. “Yeah?” he prompted impatiently.
Sam was looking down at the floor, frowning. “That’s not all. The forensics team found what appears to be blood spatter on the floor of the warehouse.”
“Appears to be blood spatter?”
Sam nodded. “The pattern is similar to the one that would occur if someone blasted you with a shotgun. But the blood is—”
But Carl was no longer paying attention; Julia Stevens’s statement was echoing in his head. ‘Lee Jay shot Mick…’ What seemed impossible before was now not what it seemed. He smacked the table enthusiastically. “Okay. Just give me a sample and I’ll outsource it to BioAnalysis for analysis. I have a friend that works there, and they’ll be faster than the state lab. Then we can compare it to all of the deceased and the victim.”
“Don’t bother. It won’t be any of them—it would be impossible.”
Carl frowned. “Why?”
“They were human.”
“This blood wasn’t human?”
“Not exactly…”
“So it’s animal then?”
“Not really…”
Carl pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Sam, I don’t have time to play Twenty Questions. What is it?”
“I don’t know what it is, Lieutenant. It’s weird—it’s obviously blood, but when I performed the antigen-antibody test it didn’t get a reading for either human or animal.”
“Some kind of synthetic blood, perhaps?”
“No, it’s all organic. Have the other lab do a detailed analysis on it; but to me, for all intents and purposes, it seems to be blood.”
“You’re positive that the sample was not contaminated in any way?”
“Positive. Although the blood contained traces of silver, which is unusual to say the least…but there was no silver found on the floor around the blood, nor could it have been introduced by one of our forensics team during collection.”
“Silver…” Carl drummed his fingers on his desk. He shook his head. “Whatever. Okay. Keep examining the blood. Try to figure out possible reasons for the silver. If you can give me that blood sample now, I’ll run it over to BioAnalysis myself.”
Sam nodded. “Sure, Lieutenant.”
Carl waited for the lab tech to put together the blood sample, then took it carefully and left the room. This was one sample he didn’t want to send by courier.
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Carl blew out a deep breath as he climbed the stairs to the third floor where his friend was a DNA analysis technician. Outside the door, he stood in front of the video camera and pressed the button to activate the light that would let her know someone was wanting to enter. A moment later, the door opened noiselessly.
She was waiting, facing the door, with an expectant grin on her face. “Carl! It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed. Then she noticed the biological sample container he carried. “Should I be disappointed that this doesn’t appear to be a social call?” she pouted playfully.
“Maizie…I have a weird one for you.”
The lab technician perked up even more. “I love weird ones. You’re forgiven.” She stretched out her hands. “So gimme. What is it?”
“Blood. When my guy ran the antigen-antibody test, it didn’t come up as human or animal.”
Maizie’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he do the test a couple times? Perhaps it was a faulty stick.”
Carl shrugged. “I don’t know—but he’s always pretty thorough, so I imagine he would’ve. He did say there were traces of silver in the blood, though—could that mess up the results?”
Maizie frowned. “It shouldn’t. But, silver?! That’s definitely weird. I can’t imagine why there’d be silver in the blood, unless someone was using it as an atypical poison in an attempt to avoid detection. Too much silver in the bloodstream, and you die, but it’s not something MEs usually screen for.”
“Yeah, well, at the moment I’m a little more concerned about the not human, not animal blood in that container. My guy confirmed it’s not synthetic blood. I want to know what it is, and who—or what—it could belong to.”
“Right. I’ll get right on it.”
“In the meantime, I’m going to try and get a sample for comparison.”
Maizie swivelled around slowly in her chair. “So this means you do have an idea of who—or what—it could belong to.”
“Well…I have a place to start. It’s a long shot, but then…so’s that blood, I would’ve thought.” He nodded towards the container. “If it really is not human and not animal, what else could it be?”
“Well…let me get at it and I’ll see what I can come up with, shall I?”
“Call me as soon as you get anything. Thanks, Maizie.”
“No, thank you, Carl. It’s not every day I get to work on a real puzzle like this—although I suppose I should actually be thanking the government for the inefficiency of their labs?” she winked at him as he walked past her on his way to the door.
He grinned in response. “I plead the fifth. Actually I just really wanted an excuse to see you, Hot Stuff. ”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, get out of here, you. I have important work to do.”
“Yes you do. And I’m going to go get something for you to compare it to.”
On his way out of BioAnalysis, he looked at his watch. Perfect—he should be home. Mick St. John, guess who’s coming to dinner?
To be continued...
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