The Ligand of Dr Moreau

 

There were many hard months of training before I became qualified as an Interpol forensic investigator. During that time, in my off hours, I became engrossed with the work of Dr Moreau, a world-famous biochemist. Having some medical background myself, it was easier for me to understand the significance of his work. All animals have something called a Hayflick Limit, which is to say that a cell in any animal can only divide 40 times before it undergoes apoptosis, or self-destruction. The absence of apoptosis is one of the causes of cancer, whereby cells continue to divide in an uncontrolled manner. All animal cells have a kind of molecular timer, called telomeres, which get smaller every time a cell divides. Dr Moreau had been studying a ligand, or molecular messenger, which could prevent the shortening of telomeres. It is no exaggeration to say that he was hot on the trail for an immortality medicine, a real-life fountain of youth.

Upon graduation, I was teamed up with Inspector Gao, whose reputation as a crime-solver is second to none. Barely a week after we began our partnership, it came as a great shock to both of us that Dr Moreau had died, apparently by suicide. Because of my familiarity with his work, Gao and I were dispatched to investigate the case at Dr Moreau's lab in Hong Kong. Gao had some urgent family business to attend to, and so he encouraged me to go on ahead and document the scene. It was a dreary night when I arrived at the airport, and I impatiently awaited my luggage with my equipment to arrive on the baggage claim carousel. Though it was nearly midnight when I checked into my hotel, I insisted on contacting the local police so that I might gain access to the lab. With great reluctance from the weary police chief, I was given permission to inspect the scene for myself.

There I was, in the room where Dr Moreau breathed his last. Though I was exhausted, I did my best to document everything in the room. I was assured by the Hong Kong police that they had not touched anything in the room. I saw Doctor Moreau's body, his head on the desk in front of him. There was gun in his left hand and an apparent suicide note near his right hand. I carefully observed everything in the room, photographed it and Dr Moreau's body, then I dusted for fingerprints. When it all was all said and done, I felt sure that Dr Moreau had indeed taken his own life. I looked forward to Inspector Gao's assessment, though in my own mind, the case had already been solved. I met Inspector Gao at the airport, and after a perfunctory meeting with the local police, we headed to the Doctor Moreau's lab. 

I had never seen Inspector Gao survey a scene before and was very curious about his methods. He had already read my report on the way there, and I was sure there would be no surprises. Even so, given his reputation, I wanted to see a master at work. It was a bit of shock that he seemed to ignore the body when he entered the room. The first thing he did was examine the ceiling. Then walked around the room in a circle while stopping here and there to look at an object with a magnifying glass. All this time he was very careful of where he stepped and used a blacklight to search for anything unusual on the floor. At last, he seemed to be complete with his inspection and returned to confer with me. 

"Well, Inspector Gao, now that you're here and have seen it all for yourself, what do you think about my report?"

"It was quite thorough, though I could tell you were sleep-deprived when you made it."

"Well, that's an easy enough inference to make. But I am curious why you say that."

"Look once more at Doctor Moreau's body. There's something very obviously peculiar about it. Something you would have noticed had you been fully rested when you wrote your first report."

I looked over Doctor Moreau's body once more. I double-checked his posture, the blood spatter pattern, everything. Yet I could not see what Inspector Gao was referring to.

"I beg your pardon, but I don't see anything out of the ordinary here. Every bit of this scene has the tell-tale marks of a suicide."

"Ah, yes, we are meant to think Doctor Moreau took his own life, but I can see at once that he didn't. Look closely once more and you'll see it for yourself."

I looked once more at the body and my gaze inadvertently focused on the gun and then the suicide note.

"Oh, you're getting warmer. It is something with Dr Moreau's hands. Please be assured I'm not toying with you. I can tell you're meticulous, but you still haven't learned how to think like a detective yet. In time, you will."

"The suicide note is near his right hand, which implies Doctor Moreau was right-handed, yet the gun in his left hand."

"Precisely! It's clear he was right-handed, and so he wouldn't have switched to his left hand to shoot himself."

"That means Doctor Moreau was murdered. But why? His work could have only helped people."

"It's not that simple. His work, if successful would have sparked a revolution, not just in medicine, but in all of society. Anyone who invents disruptive technology is sure to make enemies."

"Alright, so Dr Moreau was murdered by someone who wanted to stop him from completing his work."

"And what was the goal of that work?"

"Well, essentially, it would give immortality and everlasting youth."

"And who would be most strongly opposed to that? Who would have the money to hire an assassin?"

"I don't know. My work focuses on the technical aspects of crime; the forensics and such. I'm not a profiler or a detective. Please don't think less of me; I did my best."   

"You did very well. I asked you those last two questions because I don't know the answers myself. Part of being a good detective is knowing when to ask questions. Consider that your first lesson. Let's go now. We've done enough for tonight."