Dr. Earl N. Meyer, a scientist working on a cure for baldness, was found murdered in his lab. Four individuals - his research assistant Bunsen, a graduate student Ethan Bromide, a sales representative Petri Dish, and his former research partner Dr. Western Blot - are suspects. None have solid alibis. DNA evidence from the murder weapon may reveal the identity of the true killer.
Dr. Earl N. Meyer, a scientist working on a cure for baldness, was found murdered in his lab. Four individuals - his research assistant Bunsen, a graduate student Ethan Bromide, a sales representative Petri Dish, and his former research partner Dr. Western Blot - are suspects. None have solid alibis. DNA evidence from the murder weapon may reveal the identity of the true killer.
Dr. Earl N. Meyer, a scientist working on a cure for baldness, was found murdered in his lab. Four individuals - his research assistant Bunsen, a graduate student Ethan Bromide, a sales representative Petri Dish, and his former research partner Dr. Western Blot - are suspects. None have solid alibis. DNA evidence from the murder weapon may reveal the identity of the true killer.
Dr. Earl N. Meyer, a scientist working on a cure for baldness, was found murdered in his lab. Four individuals - his research assistant Bunsen, a graduate student Ethan Bromide, a sales representative Petri Dish, and his former research partner Dr. Western Blot - are suspects. None have solid alibis. DNA evidence from the murder weapon may reveal the identity of the true killer.
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6:06
Dr. Earl N. Meyer was working late one night on his new, top secret discovery: a drug that could cure male pattern baldness with a single treatment.
Suddenly, the lab went pitch black. Dr. Meyer looked up from his Petri dish just in time to catch a glimpse of a silhouette against a moon-lit lab window.
The mysterious visitor lunged at Dr. Meyer. A knife plunged deep into Dr. Meyer’s heart, blood pulsing from the fresh wound.
“Why?” Meyers gasped, and he fell to the oor, dead.
The next day, Meyer’s research technician, Bunsen, arrived at the lab bright and early. He found Meyer’s bloody corpse on the lab oor, a pool of deep red spread around him. Bunsen knelt beside his mentor's body.
Just then, a surly graduate student, Ethan D. Bromide, walked in. Bunsen looked up at Bromide, almost pleading. Horri ed, Bromide scanned the scene: the corpse, the pool of blood. He shot a glance to the empty Petri dish on Dr. Meyer’s lab bench.
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“Where is the drug?” he shouted at Bunsen, pulling him o his knees by the lapels of his lab coat.
Bunsen was dazed but followed Bromide’s eyes to the dish. “I don’t know,” whimpered Bunsen, trying to loosen himself from his colleague’s vice-like grip.
Collecting himself, Bunsen stood and scanned the bench. “His lab notebook is missing too, Dr. Meyer always kept it on the top shelf of his lab bench. It’s gone!”
Bromide was aghast. “That was the only copy of the formula for the drug!”
“He’s dead, Ethan. Who cares about the drug!” Bunsen shouted. “I’m calling for help.”
A short while later, the paramedics and police arrived on the scene. They sealed the lab. It was now an active crime scene.
The commotion attracted the attention of Dr. Western K. Blot, renowned clinician and Dr. Meyer’s former research partner. Distracted, as usual, Dr. Blot blundered into the crime scene, disregarding the signs and tape.
“Stop right there!” yelled a police o cer.
Dr. Blot, an imposing gure, glared down at the young, perspiring o cer who had invaded his lab.
“What’s your relationship to the deceased?” the cop asked and then gulped audibly.
“I was Dr. Meyer’s closest collaborator on a new and very lucrative drug. It would have made us lthy rich, if not for his preposterous obsession with the drug’s safety and side e ects. This drug can cause hair growth and cure male baldness. Who cares about growing a little back hair, bleeding of the gums, and incontinence in the grand scheme of things? A full-head of hair is all that matters! What a yellow-bellied, lily-livered weakling.”
“Your partner appears to have been viciously murdered,” said the o cer, watching for a reaction from Blot.
“Well, who has my drug,” Blot blurted out before quickly muttering, “Well, I certainly didn’t do it. I was in my o ce all night writing a grant proposal. I didn’t hear a peep from the spineless, gutless coward, or any other noises…”
“You can tell it to the detectives,” replied the o cer curtly. “Now step away from the tape.”
Petri Q. Dish, the peppy sales representative from DrugsRUs, waltzed in.
“I’m here to see if Dr. Meyer will rethink his decision regarding the contract,” she chirped to the cop on guard.
“What contract, ma’am?” asked the o cer, inquisitively.
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“Well …” stammered Petri, “Dr. Blot approached our company to see if we would buy and sell his wonder drug, but Dr. Meyer contacted us recently and retracted the o er as he thought it was unsafe for public consumption.”
“Well ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you, but Dr. Meyer is dead.”
“Murder? Heavens, this is awful news,” said Petri. “So very lucrative,” she said, tapping her briefcase.
“And can you account for your whereabouts last night, Ms. Dish?” pressed the detective.
“I was walking Flu y, my adorable Pomeranian, at the time of the murder,” said Petri.
“Thank you, ma’am,” replied the o cer. “Oh, ma’am, just one more thing: How did you know that Dr. Meyer was murdered?” asked the o cer.
“Well … I just assumed … I mean … I don’t… well, I don’t know. Police and all. I just know I didn’t do it,” spluttered the visibly shaken Petri.
Bunsen walked over to Petri and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Petri, are you alright? This is horrible news. He was such a great mentor,” he said soothingly.
“What! You’re defending HIM?” exclaimed Petri in a rather unsettling, shrill voice. “He was horrible to you. He made you work 18 hours a day, every day! He never gave you credit for anything, and he paid you peanuts. He deserved what he got after treating you this way.”
“Interesting…,” whispered the o cer while leaning closer to Petri and Bunsen.
Bunsen looked shell-shocked by Petri’s sudden outburst. His eyes darted from her upturned, disgusted face to the o cer who was looking on intently.
“Dr. Meyer may have treated me badly, but at least he didn’t take the biggest discovery of my career away from me.”
“Mind your own business!” bellowed Bromide now striding angrily towards the group. “I DISCOVERED this wonder drug, and I know I can re-create it again! Especially now that Dr. Meyer is out of the way!” exclaimed Bromide. “I will be a millionaire and I won’t let anyone stand in my way,’ he mumbled beneath his breath.
Bromide looked from Bunsen to Dish knowingly.
The cop’s eyes went from Bromide to Bunsen and back again.
“Hang on a second,” he said. “Where exactly were the two of you last night?”
“I was at home with my thirty cats, knitting,” quipped Bunsen.
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“None of your business,” snarled Ethan D. Bromide. All I know is that he had blood on his hands when I walked in!
"And he was more concerned about the drug than poor Dr. Meyer’s death!” Bunsen shot back.
The cop had had enough of lies, interruptions, and threats.
“Everyone, listen up! All four of you are viable suspects. None of you have presented solid alibis and you all had reasons to kill Dr. Meyer. Luckily for us, the knife used by the murderer is lodged in Dr. Meyer’s chest. And the handle of the knife has a rough surface which seems to have snagged a piece of what looks to be latex gloves. The murderer was cut in the process of committing this vile act and left us a blood sample. The lab folks can isolate a DNA sample from all this blood. You all must submit a DNA sample for analysis, and don’t give me any grief about it. I’ve had it with you lot. In a short two hours, our lab will conclusively identify the true murderer amongst you four.”
Who murdered Dr. Earl N. Meyer?
We'll have to wait to see what the evidence says.
Mark as completed
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