I Hear the Sirens in the Street

He had a healed scar on his left buttock consistent with a severe trauma, possibly a car accident, or given his age, a shrapnel wound. There was a tattoo on his back – ‘No Sacrifice Too Grea’ – which I take to be some kind of motto or Biblical verse. The ‘t’ was missing from ‘Great’ where his skin had adhered to the freezer compartment.”
    “Freezer compartment?”
    “The body was frozen for some unspecified period of time. When the body was removed and placed in the suitcase a piece of skin stuck to the freezer, hence the missing ‘t’ in great. I’ve taken photographs of this and they should be developed later today.”
    “What did you say the tattoo said?” Crabbie asked, flipping open his notebook.
    She shrugged. “A Biblical verse perhaps? ‘No Sacrifice Too Great’.”
    I looked at Crabbie. He shook his head. He had no idea either.
    “Go on, Doctor,” I said.
    “The victim’s head, arms and legs were removed post mortem.He had also been circumcised, but this had been done at birth.”
    She paused and stared at me again.
    “Cause of death?” I asked.
    “That, Detective Inspector, is where we get into the really interesting stuff.”
    “It’s been interesting already,” Crabbie said.
    “Please continue, Dr Cathcart.”
    “It was a homicide or perhaps a suicide; either way, it was death by misadventure. The victim was poisoned.”
    “Poisoned?” Crabbie and I said together.
    “Indeed.”
    “Are you sure?” Crabbie said.
    “Quite sure. It was an extremely rare and deadly poison known as Abrin.”
    “Never heard of it,” I said.
    “Nevertheless, that’s what it was. I found Abrin particles in his larynx and oesophagus, and the haemorrhaging of his lungs leaves little doubt,” Laura continued.
    “Is it a type of rat poison or something?” I asked.
    “No, much rarer than that. Abrin is a natural toxin found in the rosary pea. Of course it would need to be refined and milled. The advantage over rat poison would be in its complete lack of taste. Like I say it is very unusual but I’m quite certain of my findings … I did the toxicology myself.”
    “Sorry to be dense, but what’s a rosary pea?” I asked.
    “The common name for the jequirity plant endemic to Trinidad and Tobago, but I think it’s originally from South-east Asia. Extremely rare in these parts, I had to look it up.”
    “Poisoned … Jesus,” I said.
    “Shall I continue?” she asked.
    “Please.”
    “The Abrin was taken orally. Possibly with water. Possibly mixed into food. There would have been no taste. Within minutes it would have dissolved in the victim’s stomach and passedinto his blood. It would then have penetrated his cells and very quickly protein synthesis would have been inhibited. Without these proteins, cells cannot survive.”
    “What would have happened next?”
    “Haemorrhaging of the lungs, kidney failure, heart failure, death.”
    “Grisly.”
    “Yes, but at least it would have been fairly rapid.”
    “How rapid? Seconds, minutes?”
    “Minutes. This particular strain of Abrin was home cooked. It was crude. It was not manufactured by a government germ warfare lab.”
    “Crude but effective.”
    “Indeed.”
    I nodded. “When was all this?”
    “That’s another part of the puzzle.”
    “Yes?”
    “It’s impossible to say how long the body was frozen.”
    I nodded.
    “Are you sure about that freezing thing? There are plenty of ways a bit of skin can come off somebody’s back,” McCrabban said.
    “I’m certain, Detective. The cell damage caused by freezing is consistent throughout what’s left of his body.”
    “And so you have no idea when all this happened?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “It is beyond my capabilities to state how long he was frozen for.”
    “So you’re not able to determine a time of death?”
    “I am afraid that I am not able to determine a time or date of death. Although I will continue to work on the problem.”
    “Poisoned, frozen, chopped up, dumped,” McCrabban said sadly, writing it down in his notebook.
    “Yes,” Laura said, yawning. I gave her a smile. Was she already bored by death? Is that what happened to all pathos in the end?Or was she just bored by us? By me?
    “The rosary pea. That is interesting,” McCrabban said, still writing in his book.
    “Our killer is not stupid,” Laura said. “He’s got a little bit of education.”
    “Which more or less rules out the local paramilitaries,” McCrabban