One constable standing near the interrogation room door was instructed by M. Butt-Chinned, Remy Sharp, to take Mlle. Voyles to the temporary holding cell.
"H-hey, you can't do that!?"
Although Mlle. Voyles resisted, both of her hands were eventually handcuffed. Now, escorting her to the holding cell seemed effortless.
"Well, I can actually do that," said the constable.
The constable had now taken Mlle. Voyles to the end of the interrogation room door. M. Marsh protested, firmly stating that this was not allowed. Nevertheless, Mr. Butt-Chinned seemed indifferent and as stoic as a wall.
"I won't go into the cell!" Mlle. Voyles exclaimed, pulling away. However, the situation turned against her as one constable continued to force her.
"You won't be staying if it's not proven," M. Sharp replied, without even looking in Mlle. Voyles' direction.
Now, Mlle. Voyles had been taken out of the room. Even her protests echoed faintly and were barely audible after a few seconds.
I wondered why there was an inspector behaving like this. Technically not wrong, but their moral standing as public servants seemed neglected.
"Hey, this action is wrong! What kind of authority are you using, huh!?" M. Marsh got more agitated, not realizing he had raised the inspector's collar.
"Let go... or..."
M. Marsh was now in a state of darkness almost no peaceful in his eyes. His right hand had clenched, and it might get worse.
"Monsieur..." I signaled him through my eyes.
Fortunately, he listened and quickly released his grip on Inspector Sharp's collar. It seemed M. Marsh still had other considerations.
Inspector Sharp, after adjusting his slightly worn uniform collar due to M. Marsh's grip, continued his explanation from the data provided by the forensic team.
Earlier, Inspector Sharp had mentioned the contents of the two bags belonging to Mlle. Howell and Mlle. Voyles. In Mlle. Voyles' bag, there were a few cosmetic items such as face powder, lipstick, and a facial cleanser, as well as a phone, a wallet, and Formepizole. Mlle. Voyles' white crossbody bag was quite spacious. Strangely, in Mlle. Howell's simple black bag, there were only a phone, a wallet, and a small bottle. Although small, it seemed enough to hold half a liter of water divided into two portions.
He said that traces of Ethylene Glycol were found on the body of the male victim from the 150ml small bottle in the small black crossbody bag belonging to a woman named Alwen Howell. The poison caused severe damage to the liver, but the cause of death was heart failure.
"However, well..." M. Butt-Chinned sighed as if there was a hitch in the paper he was reading. "There is damage to the victim's lungs. Our forensic team says that lung damage is triggered by acute pneumonia. This becomes the basis for them to discuss why it happened. While Ethylene Glycol was ingested all at once, uh... and gradually. Although I don't consider that a problem. Perhaps there are other reactions that might occur, that's what I'm thinking right now."
Hearing this explanation, I might be as ambivalent as the forensic team. So were Feline and M. Marsh, who were now probably more concerned about why Ethylene Glycol could be in Mlle. Howell's small bag. Well, actually, I was curious about that too.
Ethylene Glycol...
It's not that I'm new to this. I've encountered a similar case before. Coincidentally, Mademoiselle Flemming was with me at that time.
Although rarely used due to its flexible strength, adjustable to not instantly kill like cyanide or strychnine, it has special characteristics.
Colorless, odorless, and tasteless are common features in the criminal world for a perpetrator to carry out their cunning plan. A commonly chosen poison that is very common and practical.
However, who would have thought Ethylene Glycol had a top rating not because of its strength, but because it is a flexible intermediary.
Let's say, what if the poison tastes sweet? With an assumption that 'what tastes sweet' can be used as an excuse for a specific object. For example, sugar or sweeteners. Consuming it without the victim's knowledge makes them think they're just drinking what they like.
Like slushies.
What I remember from Mademoiselle Flemming, a forensic doctor and surgical specialist, said that it could cause liver damage and upper respiratory irritation if ingested in a certain volume. If inhaled, it might irritate the mucous membranes and upper respiratory tract. Her statement stopped there.
So, how could Pneumonia occur?
"Uh, nevertheless, hm..."
Inspector Sharp stopped.
"What's wrong, Inspector?" I asked.
He seemed reluctant while holding his chin. Apparently, this person thinks before speaking, even though I actually suggested reading the entire forensic document.
He said, inside the female victim's body, traces of hemlock poison were also detected, originating from a 250ml black glass bottle of cough syrup owned by the male victim. It was found in the inner pocket of his brown blazer. Inspector Sharp said it took at least five minutes because the inner pocket of the brown blazer was deep and mingled with other bottles of medicine.
Both Ethylene Glycol was found from the remnants of the slushies, while Hemlock poison was found in the large black bitter coffee of M. Gill.
"It's strange. As far as I know, Alwen doesn't like bitter coffee. Even when the four of us were at the cafe, she always ordered latte or macchiato," M. Marsh provided a statement.
"Well, it seems that Missy earlier couldn't go home, huh..."
"Hey, but that doesn't explain that Eira is guilty, Inspector!" M. Marsh persisted.
"It will continue like this until this case finds an answer about that Fomepizole, sir."
That's why I didn't want to deny it. Fomepizole is the odd one out.
Inspector Sharp handed over the forensic results to us. On the bright side, he shared forensic information for discussion. This person has a point.
He continued that the death occurred about 20 minutes before their bodies were discovered. M. Marsh argued that he and Mlle. Voyless bought them drinks.
Mlle. Voyles brought them for me, Feline, and herself, while M. Marsh brought them for the two victims and himself. M. Marsh admitted that it couldn't be him or Mlle. Voyles because they were in a hurry when getting on the Ferris wheel. I knew that very well.
"We queued between Mr. Keymark and Nick and—"
"And that's why both of you had the opportunity to put the poison in!" Inspector Sharp cut in.
That could indeed happen. But, in my opinion, it's quite risky. I mean, what if M. Gill and Mlle. Howell suddenly turned around when it happened? Or what if Feline unintentionally caught both of them doing it?
However, even so, there is still a possibility. But not done while we were standing in line.
"No! It's not me, of course!" M. Marsh looked panicked, turning towards me and then Feline, finally towards Mr. Butt-Chinned. "How could we do it while a bottle of poison was found in Nick's blazer and the other one was in the small inner zipper of Eira's white bag!?" M. Marsh exclaimed emphatically.
Strike one for M. Marsh. I used a baseball metaphor to illustrate how strange his statement was. Especially the part about the 'small inner zipper of the white bag.'
Inspector Sharp remained silent and didn't say anything else. However, instead, his eyes were focused on M. Marsh's two eyeballs. Scrutinizing, correcting, and appearing confident about what he saw before him.
If it's like this, it feels final, right? Just now, M. Marsh said something that shouldn't have been explained. Well, I think this is it.
I sighed, but when I exhaled, it felt somewhat relieving. Although not entirely. That's because of Feline.
Feline has been silent all along. Not that I demand her to behave like this, but talking about Feline might be what keeps my mind from feeling completely at ease.
I gazed at this slow loris. She leaned down and seemed serious. She appeared to be pondering something.
"For example, what if Ethylene Glycol is disguised in a small glass bottle the same size as a glucagon medicine? Or if Hemlock is disguised with a cough syrup bottle?"
Inspector Sharp relentlessly surprised us when he handed both bottles, which he claimed to have taken from the crime scene, from under the table.
It was indeed two small bottles labeled Glucagon and black cough syrup, an antitusin variant of syrup.
ns 15.158.61.11da2
