"Well, are there any fingerprints on the nitric acid bottle?"

"No, the person who used it was wearing gloves, but we really haven't found any signs of nitric acid use. Pen~fun~Ge www.biquge.info may have used nitric acid in an experiment, and he was wearing rubber gloves at the time. ”

"It still doesn't ......," Rael said coldly, "explaining how the smudge came about." He browsed the shelves.

"Mercuric dichloride?" The mysterious man asked, "If we can find something useful here, like a record of mercuric dichloride use......"

"Admittedly, this lab is well stocked," Rael observed, "and here it is, sir." He pointed to a bottle in the middle on the right, or on the third shelf. It was the eighth bottle on that shelf, and the label read:

No. 168 Mercury dioxide is toxic

The liquid poison in the bottle was less than the bottle, and the bottom mark on the shelf had been moved.

The mysterious man pinched the bottleneck and took the bottle off, taking a closer look at the bottle. "There are no fingerprints. Gloves again. He shook the bottle, frowned, and put it back on the shelf, "That's where mercuric dichloride comes from. This is excellent equipment for poisoning criminals! The poison that is everywhere in the world is at your fingertips. ”

"Hydroacid," Rael replied, "here." Rael could probably guess that the poison he had swallowed was in the right bottle, on the top shelf on the right-hand side. It was the same as the other bottles they had checked, it was clearly marked as poisonous, and there wasn't much colorless liquid left inside.

The mysterious man pointed to several fingerprints on the glass bottle, "The dust around the bottle has not been disturbed. ”

"There's no doubt that those fingerprints are Quinn's."

"Looking for it from the furniture, eh?" Rael muttered, "I see, I asked a stupid question, sir. ”

"Queen, no doubt, has a can of hydrogen cyanide, or hydrogen cyanide, from this bottle No. 57."

Mr. Rael, who seemed to be bewildered by the shelves, looked and looked, and then went back to the fifth shelf for a long time, and his eyes returned twice to the stain on the side of the shelf where the fourth bottle of nitric acid was. He stood a little closer, looking at the edges of all the shelves, and his face quickly lit up, and on the second shelf, in the central section, the edge of the vial marked with sulfuric acid, also had an oval smudge similar to the previous one.

"Two stains," he mused, his gray-green eyes shining with a light not there before.

"Which one?" The mysterious man looked in, "No, is there anything wrong?" ”

"I think, sir," Rael replied without any anger, "anything that wasn't here two months ago, and is here now, is worth noting." He carefully lifted the bottle and saw that the dirt ring left on the bottom of the bottle on the shelf was clear. He quickly raised his eyes, the joy on his face gone, replaced by a look of doubt, and he stood wordless for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

He wandered around the room sullenly, his gloom deepening with each step. The shelves drew him in like magnets, and eventually, they pulled him back. He first looked at the low cabinets under the five shelves, then opened the two wide low doors and looked inside...... Nothing interesting: cardboard boxes, tin cans. Many small packets of chemicals, test tubes, test tube racks, a small Xiaoice box, various scattered electronic instruments, all kinds of chemicals. He muttered impatiently to his cluelessness and slammed the root door shut.

Finally, he walked over to look at the desk with the roll lid near the door. The lid was closed, and he tried it, and the lid rolled up.

"You'd better look this up, sir." He suggested.

The mysterious man snorted, "Checked, Mr. Rael." There wasn't anything useful in it, it was full of private and scientific document bookcases, and some of Quinn's chemistry notes, his experiments, I guess. ”

Rael rolled up the entire table, looking around, and the things on the table were a mess.

"I got it when I checked it," the mysterious man said.

Rael shrugged, closed his desk, and walked over to the iron filing cabinet next to him. "That one has been checked, too," the mysterious man said patiently, but Rael still opened the unlocked iron drawer and rummaged through until he found a neat stack of small index cards behind a pile of lab folders.

"Oh, yes, the syringe." The mysterious man of the place muttered.

Rael nodded. "Twelve hypodermic syringes are recorded on the index, sir. I doubt it...... Pregnant. He put down the index card and grabbed a large suitcase at the back of a drawer. The mysterious man craned his neck from behind him.

On the lid of the suitcase, two bronzed letters YH are printed. Rael opens the box. Inside, there was a row of grooves on the purple flannel, and eleven large and small syringes were neatly arranged on the grooves, one of which was empty.

"Damn," said the mysterious man, "someone took that syringe away." ”

"I don't think," said Rael, "it is necessary to retrieve that syringe, sir, and you remember that the one we found on Mrs. Quinn's bed, there was a number, six, right?" Quinn looks scruffy and bohemian, but he is methodical, and this is a case in point. ”

He touched the empty groove with his fingernails. All grooves have a small black strip of cloth, each with a white number printed on it. The syringe barrels are arranged according to the number, and the empty groove is marked with a figure six. "And the size of the groove," he continued, "if I'm not mistaken, matches the size of the syringe." Yes, the syringe that was aligned with mercuric dichloride came from this box, and here," he said, stooping down to pick up a small leather box, and concluding his conclusion, "if I'm not mistaken, it's the box for the needles......

Yes, there is one less needle, because there are eighteen in the index, and there are only seventeen here. Alas! He sighed, put both the large and small boxes back in the back of the drawer, and aimlessly flipped through the folders. Notes, experiments, and materials for the original needs...... In one of the separate compartments, one folder was empty. He closed the file cabinet drawer. The mysterious man standing somewhere behind him suddenly exclaimed loudly, and Rael quickly turned around. The mysterious man knelt in the dust, hidden behind one of the heavy work desks, barely in sight.

"What?" Rael yelled, walking around the table, "Did you find anything?" ”

"Hmph," the mysterious man muttered as he stood up, "it looked like a mystery just now, but it's not anymore, look here." They looked in the direction of his finger and understood what made him exclaim. Between the two work tables, on the floor, closer to the fireplace and farther away from the ledge, there were three neatly dotted dots on the dust. They are arranged in a triangle with equal distances between the points. Rael looked closer, and four was covered in dust itself, but it was just a thin veil compared to the thick dust around it. "Simple, at first thought it was something important. It's just the stool legs. ”

"Ah, yes," Rael recalled, "I forgot, stool." ”

The mysterious man grabbed the small three-legged stool placed on the floor in front of the middle of the ledge, and lowered it with three feet against the three dots, just to cover the three dots. "That's right. It's so simple, the stool used to be placed here, but someone moved it, that's it. ”

"It's nothing." Rael said, disappointed.

"Nothing." But soon Rael seemed to think of something and was secretly happy, and he looked at the surface of the stool with a familiar eye, as if he had inspected it when he stood in front of the shelf just now. The stool was also full of dust, but there was dirt on the rune surface, some places were dusty, some were not.

"I'm glad you're satisfied," muttered the mysterious man, "I don't see why." ”

Mr. Rael did not answer. With a nonchalant expression, he muttered a few words about returning to where his boss was, and then left the lab. He came downstairs with a tired face and a little depressed shoulder.

The mysterious man flicked his thumb in frustration as he left.

……

There is a huge fireplace in the laboratory. Bottles and cans for all kinds of chemical experiments, you name it. On the test bench were stills, medicine bottles, and notes with chemical equations written on them. Against the wall is a row of glass cases filled with microscopes, special cameras, flasks, beakers, straws, and more.

Aubrey would stick his head into the fireplace one moment, and put his fingers into the porcelain jar to stir it up the next. Suddenly, as if he had discovered something, he slowly stood up, holding half of the burned letterhead in his hand, and quickly glanced at the half of the letterhead, only to see that it read:

"Dear James. ZHOU: Hello! When you see ......"

This half letter is not a poem without literary reason, because it belongs to the category of letters, private letters, but the content, but not good words, full of threats, more like a threatening letter, but for some unknown reason, it was not sent, and it remained here, if this James was present, seeing such a letter, his face would suddenly turn pale, and maybe he would tremble, and quickly put it in his wallet, or hide it in some secret place.

At this point, Aubreb burrowed into the fireplace again and examined the flue very carefully.

"It seems that there is no one here." Covered in soot, he got out of the fireplace, inspected every piece of furniture in the house, and then opened the door to the glass cabinet to look.

Freedom is still relative to him now, there are no hands and feet to bind, this is physical freedom, he is now trapped in a room that seems to be a laboratory, this is a restriction of movement, he doesn't even remember how he was brought in, he doesn't remember how many times he woke up, how many times he fainted, how many dreams he had, and how that Vivien is now, after a few days, is his life going to end here.

So he needs to find the answer, he needs to find his own way out, whether it is the way out of this house, and the way out of life, through this incident, according to his conjecture, Quinn is a very dangerous person, not even a woman, let alone himself.

Click!

There was a sound from the closed door......