Examining the Diplomat's Body
Holmes moved with the clinical precision of a surgeon, his long, tapering fingers hovering just inches above the Count’s cold skin without ever making unnecessary contact. I joined him, opening my black medical bag. As a doctor, my first instinct was to look for the obvious: the tell-tale blue of cyanide, the constricted pupils of opium, or the violent bruising of a struggle.
"Heart failure, Watson?" Holmes asked, his eyes never leaving the Count's fingernails.
"At first glance, it would seem so," I replied, pressing my fingers to the Count's carotid artery. "The face is cyanotic, the expression one of extreme shock. However, von Drachenburg was known for his robust health. To die so suddenly, and with such a look of terror…" I paused as I turned the Count's head slightly to the left. "Holmes, look here."
Just below the earlobe, nestled in the shadow of the jawline, was a microscopic puncture—no larger than a pinprick—surrounded by a faint, ghostly ring of discoloration. Holmes whipped out his lens, leaning so close that his breath must have stirred the Count’s hair.
"Fascinating," he murmured, his voice tight with excitement. "A puncture, yet no needle was found in the room. The skin is not torn, but the toxin—for I have no doubt it is a toxin—acted with a speed that is nothing short of supernatural. And look at his boots, Watson. Scuffed at the toes, as if he were trying to find purchase on the floor while being held upright. He did not die in that chair; he was placed there."
Holmes rose to his full height, his gaze sweeping the silent, locked room once more. "The door was locked from the inside, the windows are impenetrable, and yet a killer entered, administered a lethal dose of an unknown substance, stole a state document, and vanished into the yellow fog. We are dealing with a mind of the highest order, Mycroft."
Next
- ./ask-questions Cross-examine Mycroft to learn more about the Count’s enemies and the specific contents of the treaty
- ./just-go Leave the club immediately to track the killer through the fog before the scent goes cold