Whisker Of Evil

12

A sample of Barry Monteith’s brain tissues rested under the fluorescence microscope.

The gang at the lab examined a variety of Barry’s tissue samples. Given the odd circumstances of Barry’s death, a variety of tests had been ordered by the Albemarle County coroner, Tom Yancy, at Sheriff Shaw’s request.

Georgette Renfrow, one of the best of the bunch, peered intently through the lens. She was performing a direct fluorescent antibody test, shortened to dFA. Round dots of varying size, a bright fluorescent apple-green color, jumped right out at her.

“Jesus.” She whistled.

In all her years at the lab, Georgette had only seen this once before, and that was in the brain tissue of a prisoner who worked the road gangs and died mysteriously. The prison physician couldn’t detect the cause of his intense suffering.

“Jake, take a look.” She motioned for a twenty-seven-year-old assistant to look.

He came over, bending to put the eyepiece at just the right place. “I’ve never seen that.”

“Remember it.”

“What is it? I suppose I should know, but I don’t think I’ve seen it and I don’t remember it from school.”

She peered into the microscope one more time, then tapped her index finger on the smooth desktop. “Rabies.”