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[originallutece]

Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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[originallutece]

I'll be by within the hour.

[There may just be people who try and stop her, but Rosalind has an arm to puzzle over and Grell's name to drop. Add her own natural arrogance to the blend, and it's not so long before she's knocking eagerly at Grell's door.]

action.

[erythristic]

[Dr. Sutcliffe can be found getting the door, actually. she had been waiting for Rosalind, fairly itching to get back to the arm but telling herself to wait. when she sees Rosalind - because who else would seem so ready to see her? - she breaks into a smile.]

Dr. Lutece. It's a great pleasure to finally meet you in person.

[originallutece]

The feeling is mutual, Dr. Sutcliffe.

[Well, technically this is their second time meeting in person, but you know what, that doesn't count. Rosalind waits just long enough to shake Grell's hand before she's slipping in the office, eyes darting around.]

Tell me about this arm.

[erythristic]

[the office is cozy, disconnected from the lab itself. a few personal touches to distinguish it as hers, and there's a chair in front of it for her visitors, but Grell goes back around the desk, hitting save on her laptop before she shuts it.]

I'm swearing you to general confidentiality first. Things like the recipient's name, age, what I've truly found - the more specific details aren't to be posted up on the app, okay? I trust you understand discretion, but seeing as the person who brought this in doesn't even know what we're looking for, I'm treating it with the same level of decorum I would for a regular case.

[originallutece]

Naturally.

[She is taking this seriously; though there's still eagerness in her gaze, she nods in agreement.]

Do you wish for me to sign something?

[erythristic]

Your verbal consent is enough - I suppose it's habit to make sure anyone who isn't police or my coworkers knows how serious this is.

[originallutece]

Not a bad policy.

[Still: now that that's settled, Rosalind tips her head.]

Well? Give me the details, I'm beyond curious.

[erythristic]

There's a number of strange factors about the arm. Firstly - the condition isn't exactly fresh, but preserved in a decent enough state. Given the absence of chemicals present, which is a theory I'm putting forth given the look and scent of the limb and most likely going to be testing in your presence, the only thing that would keep it so together would be a deep freeze. It's fairly healthy in spite of that, indicating a minimum time spent in such conditions.

Not to mention what severed the arm itself. Given the injury at the site of detachement, it was blown off, instead of cut or chopped. I want to check for gunpowder traces as well - see if we can narrow the field as to what sort of explosion did this. And there's the fingerprints, but unfortunately I have to make sure to discredit a lot of them, because not everyone was as careful with it as I'd like. The owner, I can understand, panic sets in. The arresting officer...I'll scold him another time.

[originallutece]

You'd hope someone in that position of authority would be more intelligent, but I've found it best to simply assume most people are stupid until proven otherwise.

[But oh, all of that is fascinating. Rosalind had read up on this kind of thing in idle preparation, but her knowledge is nothing compared to Grell's, she knows.]

Which test would you like to start with?

[erythristic]

Fingerprints. The chemical search may ruin them.

[she beckons to Rosalind to follow her, leading her down the hallway into the morgue proper, and shutting the doors behind them. once that's taken care of, she goes to put on gloves before she looks for the proper cold storage container.]

You'll want to stand back once I actually start...I'll get you a mask as well. Lifting prints from bodies requires some fumes.

[but she finds the box, taking it out and opening the top. that certainly is an arm there, muscular and intact saved for the mild burns and the section at the top.]

[originallutece]

Good god . . .

[Rosalind knows better than to touch, but still her fingers curl at her sides, because that's absolutely her first impulse. It's a stomach-churning sight, true, but it's also a fascinating one. Why this? Why on earth would Retrospec send someone something so horrific?]

I'm a bit shocked it's not a gory sight. I would have expected more blood.

[erythristic]

I as well, but this was the condition it appeared in. Like someone washed it beforehand, odd as that sounds.

[turning to another cabinet, she pulls down a box of disposable masks, taking out two and giving one to Rosalind. so they don't cough when she opens the fuming chamber later.

taking the arm, she moves it to the device, busying herself with setting things up.]

It's fascinating, how cyanoacrylate offers itself to investigation - usually I'm using this for items only, but under the right circumstances, it applies to flesh as well...

[placing everything together, she closes the door and hits the right buttons to vacuum seal the chamber.]

[originallutece]

I admit, I'd never much thought about its use that way.

[But she sure is now. Rosalind takes a step forward, eyes eagerly darting up and down the arm. This is all wonderfully new to her, and she doesn't want to miss a moment.]

Though now that you say it . . . I'm surprised more murder victim autopsies don't require them.

[erythristic]

That requires having a fuming chamber big enough to fit a body in, and the prints in decent condition. Oftentimes, bodies are found in circumstances where any prints wouldn't be viable. But in the rare chance the stars line up, you get something like this.

[slowly the machine cycles to life, humidifying and filling the air with what they need, the hints of white beginning to appear on the arm as the machine hums away.]

Do you know how rare this is? In Recolle? People don't get murdered here. Or have their body parts turn up like this. It's so safe as to almost be boring.

[...should she look excited to have a severed arm...she does....]

[originallutece]

Poor Grell.

[Is she smiling behind the mask? Is that a teasing joke? Stars above, it is, but it doesn't last long, because she adds:]

Have you always lived here, or was there another, more murderous city in your past?

[erythristic]

I moved here a little over two and a half years ago. Not exactly every day you find an open position in my field - I was glad to go where I was needed.

[easy, a carelessly tossed off answer. she's said this enough times to people who ask.]