“I do know, but I’m curious about how you and the NYPD handle these things,” I explain.
“All right, fine,” she says, sounding suspicious. “Heroin rapidly breaks down in the body into different byproducts, including morphine and 6-acetylmorphine.” She raises an eyebrow at me.
I nod. “I know.”
“Well, I fucking hope so. While morphine can be detected in the blood after heroin use, its presence alone doesn’t conclusively prove heroin use because morphine can also be found in the blood due to the medicinal use of morphine-based drugs. However, the presence of 6-AM is a very strong indicator of recent heroin use, as it’s a specific metabolite of heroin. We typically detect heroin and its metabolites in a blood sample using gas chromatography, mass spectrometry or liquid chromatography-mass spectrometry.”
I nod again. That’s exactly how I would have approached it. “All right, shall we get started?”
“Sure,” she says, buttoning up her coat and grabbing her gloves.
We ran the tests, confirming the presence of 6-acetylmorphine, which suggests the person was under the influence.
“So now you just tell the officers on the case that he used heroin?” I ask.
“No, I inform them that we found indications of substance influence, but there could be other reasons for the result, so they would need to investigate other drugs he may have used, among other things,” she explains, looking at me and tilting her head. “Why are you asking, Carolina? I know you’re eager to learn, but this all seems like pretty basic knowledge, and I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t know that. Is there a particular reason this case has caught your interest?”
Am I that transparent, or is she just perceptive?
“There’s a personal reason,” I admit, shifting my gaze to the computer screen where we reviewed the results.
“And are you going to share it with me?” she asks.
I can’t bring myself to look at her but say, “It’s about my parents.”
“Are they being accused of using or dealing heroin? If you’re confident they’re innocent, I can look up their file and reexamine the tests if they’re recent enough,” she offers.
I finally meet her eyes. “You would do that?”
She lets out a huff. “Of course, I would. When were they arrested?” she asks, already sitting behind her computer.
“No, I’m sorry. I was just surprised that you would do that for me,” I admit, my voice quieter now. “They died in a car crash five years ago, and the police told me they were driving under the influence.”
She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “But you don’t believe it.”
“They didn’t even drink. I don’t believe they were using, but everyone involved just told me that kids don’t always see the whole picture.”
She nods understandingly. “Would you like to see their file yourself? Do you think that would bring you some peace of mind?”
My eyes widen. “We can do that?”
She shrugs. “We can certainly try. We can request the case as a reference. I can’t make any promises, but we ask for old cases all the time, so why not use this privilege to give you some closure?”
Tears well up in my eyes. “Thank you, Sophia.”
She smiles sadly at me and reaches over to pat my hand. “Thank me when we have the case. What were their names?”
“Carlo and Isabella Costa,” I say, my heart aching.
Sophia gives my hand a comforting squeeze. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The door swings open, and I quickly compose myself, forcing my eyes to stop watering as Clay and Josh enter.Fucking perfect timing for the douchebags.
They walk over to us, both looking way too good.Hot as hell douchebags,I mentally correct myself.
“Hey there, Karen. Made anyone cry today?” Clay asks, casually leaning against my desk.
“Sadly, no. But it’s only four thirty, and you only just walked in,” I snark.
