The Shadow of Great Britain

355: Chapter 216: Founding Forensic Toxicology (4K8) 355: Chapter 216: Founding Forensic Toxicology (4K8) In the office at Scotland Yard, Arthur leaned back in his chair, twirling a dark brown strand of hair between his fingers, stretching it out inch by inch to examine it in the sunlight.

While the hair might appear unremarkable, to Scotland Yard, it represented a piece of critical evidence.

On Arthur’s desk lay an academic paper that he had ordered the head of the Analysis Division of the Criminal Investigation Department at the Greater London Police Department, Chief Superintendent Charles Field, to draft.

The lengthy paper was filled with various case studies, but its conclusion could be summarized simply—it asserted that human hair grows approximately one centimeter per month, so by analyzing different segments of a hair strand, one could conduct a chemical analysis to determine when the victim had ingested a large amount of toxins.

Here, the most apt validation experiment was to combine the conclusions of this paper with the recently discovered Marsh test for detecting arsenic by Mr.

James Marsh, a chemical engineer at the Woolwich Arsenal.

The verification experiment conducted by the Criminal Investigation Department yesterday revealed that, although traces of arsenic were present in every section of the hair, surprisingly, the arsenic mirrors were most pronounced near the root.

After discovering this anomaly, Arthur had also specifically requested that a doctor from St.

Mary’s Hospital be hired to assist in a second professional autopsy for Scotland Yard.

However, this seemingly reasonable request nearly provoked the judges’ thunderous wrath.

If this occurred several centuries later, the judges’ anger would certainly have no basis or reason, as it would be only natural for autopsies to be conducted by medical professionals.

But in the judges’ eyes, this was nothing short of a provocation to the entire British legal order, for throughout Britain, from South to North and East to West, almost all the appointed coroners in the courts were lawyers.

For centuries, conducting autopsies had always been the job of lawyers—and in the eyes of the judges, investigation of a body was a legal matter, not a medical one.

Having doctors do this job was, in their view, an overstepping of boundaries.

If one were not a genuine Briton or had not lived in a Christian society for some time, one would certainly find it difficult to understand the judges’ line of thinking.

But if we start from the very establishment of British courts, it becomes quite understandable.

On this small island of Britain, residents are typically divided by parish, so naturally, the earliest courts were various religious courts.

The so-called religious courts’ responsibilities were not limited to the literal meaning of their name—burning heretics was just one of their duties, and even that was not often exercised, as heretics weren’t easy to find.

After all, heretics didn’t grow in greenhouses to be harvested seasonally.

For the most part, religious courts functioned much like the ancient Chinese yamen, where parish residents would bring their disputes, whether about family divisions, contract disputes, petty theft, or neighborhood fights, pleading with the priests to call upon God for judgment.

Indeed, for this reason, historically, the High Chancellors of Britain and even all of Europe’s Christian countries were almost invariably clergy.

In the early days, when productivity was low, the only people in the parishes other than priests were farmers, blacksmiths, carpenters, and the like.

Professions like professional doctor were rare, and one might not be found in several villages.

Priests, who studied a variety of theological and natural sciences daily, naturally became the local intellectual elite.

And according to Christian tradition, priests usually learned some healing arts, and residents who fell ill would mostly look to the priests for help.

So the priests, serving as judges in the religious courts, naturally took on the additional role of coroners.

Up to this point, the logic holds.

However, trouble arose later on, during the time of Henry VIII.

The King, unable to produce an heir, had several divorces, and eventually, the Pope, outraged by his excessive divorces, refused to sanction further applications.

Enraged, Henry VIII decided to take matters into his own hands, commanding that the Church of England separate directly from the Holy See, establishing the Anglican Church and taking charge himself.

He also began to crack down on Catholic influence within the country and to reconstitute various courts.

Judges were no longer the exclusive role of clergy.

As time passed, the social consensus shifted to professional lawyers taking on the role of judges.

But the problem was that lawyers not only snatched the position of judges from priests but also took over other responsibilities traditionally held by clergy, like that of the coroner.

Thus, a curious phenomenon arose where coroners in courts across the landscape were mostly of legal background.

And, unsurprisingly, in this case involving Member of Parliament Harrison, the appointed coroner commissioned by the Westminster Magistrates’ Court was also a lawyer.

Although Arthur’s suggestion to have a doctor perform the autopsy was sensible and appropriate, according to the legal regulations, autopsy reports not submitted by a coroner appointed by the courts could not be used as evidence in court.

And even more frustratingly, George Norton, the judge of the Westminster Magistrates’ Court, was unlikely to relent in this matter.

Arthur reasonably speculated that Bernie Harrison’s unabashed confidence was probably due in part to this reason.