Chapter 11 - The Shocking Lab Results Confirming A Slow Poison
Forty-eight agonizing hours later, my burner phone buzzed violently on the nursery nightstand while the boys slept. I stepped out into the hallway, pressing the phone against my ear with trembling fingers.
Miss Mitchell? This is Dr. Helen Vance from the Greenwich analytical lab, the voice reported urgently. I'm listening, Doctor, I whispered into the receiver.
The compound in that vial is a synthetic organophosphate neurotoxin combined with a heavy metal salt derivative. My blood ran completely cold as the horrific reality solidified in my mind.
It’s designed to induce progressive muscular atrophy, chronic fatigue, and cognitive decline over many months, she continued. It bypasses routine blood panels unless specifically screened for heavy metal toxicity and nerve agents.
Would this kill them eventually? I asked, my voice cracking with suppressed fury. Yes, within a year, it would cause total organ failure, and medical examiners would rule it natural genetic decline.
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Who ordered a custom synthesis like this? Dr. Vance wondered aloud. Someone with millions of dollars, complete access to their home, and a medical professional guiding the dosage.
I thanked her quickly, hanging up the phone as my hands shook with deadly resolve. The time for observation was over; it was time to confront the Mafia boss with absolute proof.
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