They entered the classroom carefully, their protective suits making every movement awkward and deliberate.Miles turned to Stoller and said, “The delivery system….was it through the AC?”
Stoller nodded and pointed toward the ceiling.“That’s right.The air conditioning vent above the teacher's desk.Someone accessed the ductwork from outside the building and installed a fairly basic dispersal mechanism.There was a remote timer on it.”
Miles looked up at the vent cover, which had already been removed and set aside by the hazmat team before Miles had arrived.
“What can you tell us about the remote?”Vic asked Stoller.
“Timer-controlled release system.Pressurized container.Remote activation capability.Nothing too spectacular, really.But whoever built this understood chemical handling protocols and HVAC systems.They knew exactly how much fluorine gas would fill this room and how long it would take to reach lethal concentrations.”
Vic was examining the scattered art supplies near Sarah's desk.Crayons and construction paper lay strewn across the floor where the teacher had apparently knocked them over as she collapsed.“Any indication she tried to call for help?”
“Phone was on her desk, but the gas works fast.She probably didn't have time to understand what was happening before it incapacitated her.”
Miles had assumed this himself.Knowing how fluorine acted, he felt sick thinking about Sarah Morrison's final moments.Staying late to prepare lessons for her students, then slowly realizing something was wrong as the sweet-smelling gas filled her lungs.
“There's something else you need to see,” Stoller said.He walked over to the desk Sarah Morrison would never reach from again and picked up a plastic evidence bag.“Whoever installed the delivery system left this behind.”
He handed Miles the bag, which contained a single sheet of paper.Through the clear plastic, Miles could see dense handwriting covering both sides of each page.The text was neat and precise, written with the kind of careful penmanship that suggested education and intelligence.
“Found it tucked inside the ductwork,” Stoller explained.“Almost like they wanted it to be discovered when we investigated the delivery system.Theyknewwe’d look up there.”
Miles held the evidence bag up to read what had been left behind.The opening paragraph made his blood run cold:
“The molecular corruption of innocence cannot be tolerated.Sarah Morrison presented herself as an educator, but she was in fact a vector of chemical contamination, poisoning young minds with the toxic compounds of modern society.Her classroom was a laboratory of corruption where pure children were exposed to the synthetic materials that degrade human development at the cellular level.”
Vic read over his shoulder, her expression growing darker with each sentence.“This person thinks kindergarten art supplies are chemically corrupting children?”
Miles continued reading.The manifesto rambled one with more pseudo-scientific theories about molecular purity and chemical contamination.But certain phrases jumped out at him:
“I have been chosen to purify those who spread molecular corruption through their daily activities.Each target has been selected based on their contribution to the chemical degradation of human society.Sarah Morrison's use of synthetic art materials, non-organic cleaning products, and processed educational tools made her a prime candidate for fluorine purification.”
“Chosen,” Vic said, focusing on the same word that had caught Miles' attention.“Chosen by whom?”
The manifesto didn't provide that answer directly, but the language suggested someone operating under direction from a higher authority.Just like Diana Hartwell, whose philosophical framework had seemed too sophisticated for a lone wolf operation.Plus, if Miles remembered correctly, hadn’t Diana also mentioned something about wanting topurifyher victims?
Miles read the rest of the note.The conclusion was brief, but chilling:
“The fluorine cycle represents purity and cleansing.Sarah Morrison has been purified of her molecular corruption.Others will follow until the chemical contamination of innocent society has been eliminated.The periodic table provides perfect guidance for this sacred work.”
“The periodic table,” Miles said, showing Vic the final paragraph.“That's not coincidence.This is definitely connected to Diana Hartwell.And… and everything else I’ve been researching.”He could hardly believe it… and he felt as if a very heavy weight had come crashing down on him.
Vic took the evidence bag and read the manifesto more carefully.“The writing style is different from anything we found in Hartwell's materials.This person has a completely different obsession.Chemical purity instead of wealth inequality.”
“But the underlying structure is the same,” Miles argued.“Someone who believes they've been chosen to carry out elemental murders.Someone with sophisticated technical knowledge and access to dangerous chemicals.”
Miles looked around the classroom again, trying to understand the killer's logic.Kindergarten art supplies as vectors of chemical corruption.A dedicated teacher as a target for molecular purification.The reasoning was insane, but it followed the same pattern of elaborate justification that had driven Diana Hartwell to coat her victims in gold.There was somethingverydark going on here.
“We need to interview the school staff,” Vic said, handing the evidence bag back to Miles.“Someone might have noticed unusual activity around the building.Maintenance requests, security concerns, strangers asking questions about the ventilation system.”
Miles nodded, though he suspected the killer had been too careful to leave obvious traces.The sophistication of the delivery system suggested months of planning and preparation.Someone who understood the school's routines and security protocols well enough to access the ductwork without detection.
“Local PD set up interview rooms in the east wing,” Stoller told them.“Principal Davis and two or three prominent staff members are waiting to be questioned.They've been here since early morning, obviously pretty shaken up by the whole situation.”
They left Sarah Morrison's classroom and walked through the empty hallways toward the east wing.Their protective suits made the journey awkward, but Miles felt strangely comforted by Vic's presence beside him.Working with her in San Francisco had felt natural despite their different backgrounds.She grounded him in practical investigation while respecting his analytical approach.
Being back in the field with Vic made him feel like an actual part of the investigation rather than a laboratory analyst trying to contribute from the sidelines.Her confidence and experience complemented his theoretical knowledge in ways that made both of them more effective.It was one of the reasons why he'd been wondering more and more of late if hewascut out for regular field work.
“What's your read on the manifesto?”Vic asked as they walked.
