She shook her head. “September was when they received the samples. The fungal specimen is 28923, that’s the date of receipt.”
After five minutes of carefully shifting the specimen jars to see the ones at the back of the shelves, Saffron huffed out a frustrated breath. “It’s not here.”
“We shouldn’t be surprised. Most of the information regarding the specimen was taken. Where else would they have written down information about it?”
“Entomology’s daily logs didn’t have anything,” Saffron said. “Though now I know better what to look for, I ought to check again.”
“What about personal notes? I didn’t find any in Mycology. Perhaps Entomology keeps them at their workstations.”
“We can check,” Saffron said. “I didn’t spend a lot of time looking at anything that looked like field notes.”
It was nearing one in the morning. Saffron could feel her body was tired, but her mind was whirring at double speed. She felt if she could just find one more piece of information, things would come together.
Alexander observed the vivariums with interest as they approached Entomology.
“Those are earwigs,” she told him.
“Test subjects for the pesticides?”
“Yes.” She unlocked the first cabinet again, rolling out the drawer for Alexander’s inspection. She held her lamp low for him to sort through the materials within. “Earwigs aren’t the worst pest, but they are annoying. My grandfather complained of them on occasion, though I believe they don’t generally affect his crops.”
Alexander arched a brow at her. “He grows crops?”
“His tenants do.” She frowned at the insects. “I wonder why they chose to study earwigs. They are omnivores, according to the records I looked through. Some of their observations suggested they prefer meat or even sweet foods to plants.”
“Perhaps they mean to protect the meat industry against invasion by earwig too.”
Saffron shot him a look. “Ha, ha.”
“If they’re omnivores, they likely eat other insects. They could be trying to breed a new generation of carnivorous earwigs so they’ll target troublesome pests rather than be pests themselves.”
“That is a terrifying thought.”
Alexander worked his way through the contents of the drawers and handed Saffron anything that looked promising.
A low creak sounded down the hall.
They froze. Saffron’s hand moved to close the drawer, but Alexander stopped her. He picked up the lamp on the counter and moved to the right, to the far side of the room. They knelt behind the last workstation and doused their lights.
Saffron held her breath. She heard no further footsteps, but she sensed another presence enter the laboratory as if the air had noticeably shifted.
There was a click, and an electric torch glared right into their faces, causing Saffron to wince away into Alexander’s shoulder.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” asked a voice attempting to be stern. It was terribly familiar.
Saffron sighed and turned toward the light. “Hello, Sergeant Simpson.”
It was clear Sergeant Simpson was not pleased to see them, to say the least. He’d dropped the torch, causing it to crash to the ground and crack the bulb, plunging them back into darkness. When it became clear none of the household had awakened at the noise, Alexander lit one of the lamps.
Simpson glared at them. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re investigating, of course!” Saffron said in hushed tones. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?I’minvestigating!” he shot back.
“But you’re in Harpenden,” Alexander said. “That’s well outside your jurisdiction.”
Simpson’s youthful face went pink. “I might be … I might have come up here on my own.”
