Tina's Test

“They’ve called in the big guns, I see,” Tom Lewis says when he recognizes Tina, smiling warmly as she clips across the parking lot toward him in her sensible heels.

Tom is the city's chief coroner, Tina’s friend, boss, and the man who hired her.

“Tom! You’ve pulled me out of my dungeon lab. Science on the streets. Must be something D.N.A. related?” Tina asks. She instinctively checks with a tap her blazer lapel, to ensure her credentials are displayed for the man holding the perimeter tape of the crime scene as they walk through. Her badge reads Tina Cochlee, Lead Scientist, Forensic Analysis.

“It’s a confusing case. A messy one, I’m afraid,” Tom says, looking saddened for a moment. Tina was always amazed to see the man's empathy had not atrophied over years of cases involving the mess humans can make of one another. Tina could usually hide behind her microscope and development mediums in her nice, sterile lab. One step removed from the messiness. “Truthfully, Tina, I asked for you,” Tom says and puts a gentle hand on her forearm, holding her back a moment. “We’ve been here all day and can’t make sense of it. We need the D.N.A to sort it out.”

“Will I need my essential oil?” Tina asks.

“Yes...well, no, maybe not,” Tom replies. He’s familiar with Tina’s trick of using menthol and citrus oils just under her nose, to help cut the smells of death. He calls it her nostril mojito.

“How many bodies?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Just the one. It was an accident. The Doctor who owns this practice. The death is not the crime here...if there is one,” he says.

“O...k...? A little intrigued,” Tina admits.

Tom inhales deeply before he begins to brief her. “Today we have a couple with a young boy – he is four years old. The fertility clinic is responsible for the embryo and successful transfer through I.V.F. All was happy for the last four years. The couple's niece – on the mother’s side – needs a bone marrow donor. Cancer. Every member of the family was checked for a match, including the young boy. Those results happened to show the boy is not the son of the father. The match is close though as if the child's father is a close relative of the man: a sibling match. They came to the clinic last week after the wife insisted, of course, that she did not cheat on her husband with his only brother. They re-ran the test, and it came back the same. The brother was brought here today and once he found out why, he refused to provide a sample and there was an altercation. Luckily, the mother took the boy out of the room before the doctor died. We are being told he tried to break the brothers up and got shoved, tripped, and fell backward. Fractured his occipital bone on the base of the coat stand. There is blood from the brothers all over the office. And a separate pool of it belonging to the doctor. The men were really going at it, ruined a beautiful painting! To their credit, they stopped when the doctor fell. The receptionist had already alerted security based off what the mother told her. Five people heard when the noise stopped: the two guards, receptionist, mother and child.”

“When the doctor fell?”

“Right. It snapped the brothers out of their rage - Anyway, that’s our mess to figure out. I need your eyes on the genetics. I can’t figure it out...has there been an affair? We don’t police that, but-...this doesn't feel like that to me. The mother seems truthfully devastated, and says it was her inability to conceive that first brought them to the clinic. Wouldn’t have mattered if it was a different partner, she says. The detective is stumped. The brother says there was no affair and seems insulted his sibling would accuse him of that. He has never donated a sample to this clinic or anywhere else.”

“That's why I’m here. Malpractice or affairs, someone is cheating. Let’s go figure it out, Tom,” Tina says, resuming their walk towards the clinic doors.

Tina spent the next few hours methodically taking samples and verifying the genetic information already on file had been interpreted correctly. Everything seemed in order, including the late doctors' clinical methods. All the procedures that the intended parents went through on their journey to become pregnant and each visit to the clinic were all well documented. She was getting the feeling the doctor ran a tight practice. On first pass the genetic test looked correct as well. The ruined art hung over the doctor’s corpse, dangling askew on its wire, a blood-splattered oil painting of a pear tree.

Despite the fact the family was traumatized by the accident, Tina surmised from her time with each member, taking samples, that none could understand their circumstance. One or more of them were incredibly believable actors or the data was flawed. Tina took her time with each person and collected blood, saliva, buccal swabs; an additional investigator witnessed and signed the seals. “Please figure this out, my husband hates me,” the mother whispered when Tina was close. The boy seemed naturally introverted and was now left shocked. He sat silently by his mother's side, quiet but wide-eyed, watching her. He shared a resemblance to both his father and his uncle, whomsoever turned out to be which.

Tina personally escorted the samples back to the lab and began analysis.

* * *

“Thanks for seeing me, Tom,” Tina said as she settled into the chair opposite his desk. It had been two days since he had called her. She had gone through the samples twice knowing her methods were valid the first time. What she had discovered meant the late doctors results, as well as the genetic test that originally sparked the altercation had all been correct. “It’s hard to believe because the chances of this being true, let alone how it was revealed are so very slim. The father – he's a chimera.”

“What?”

“A chimera. He has more than one valid genetic contribution. He has two distinct D.N.A. patterns” Tina nods as Tom's face twists slightly with doubt. “I’ll need a semen sample to confirm, but it is visible when you compare the blood and tissue samples I took.”

“Is this the first time you’ve seen something like this?” Tom asks.

“In the field? Yes, for sure. It’s exceedingly rare. We learned the theory but it’s a foot note, you know? To see it, I’m astounded. Like the doctor, I might have gone to the brother as well, because of how rare it is. But my cat -”

“Molly!”

“Molly. She’s an example of what we are talking about here.”

“Half a ginger face, half black.”

“A genetic chimera. Also found in my favourite house plant and seen in so many horses I’ve noticed in the country. Exceptionally rare in humans. We might be able to get visual confirmation. There are striped markings, different pigments of skin – usually on the back and through the ribs,” Tina informs Tom.

“I can tell you one person who will be happy – the wife – she's been calling every few hours. I’m glad the evidence doesn't make me have to call her a liar – do you mind?” Tom says and gestures towards his phone.

“Bring them all in! I’d love to try and explain it to them if I can? It’s really just a case of embryos – fraternal twins- fusing during development.”

“He ate his twin?” Tom says, smiling, “You’d better let me explain it...” Tom winks and they share a laugh as he picks up his phone and directs his assistant to make the call. He waits for a connection, but the call is redirected.

When he speaks again, all of his jovial demeanor has vanished. “I’m sorry – pardon?” then softly in the receiver, “Jesus, no”

“Tom?”

“I’ll be there,” Tom says to whoever is on the other end of the call, then sharply, “What? - No, dammit. I’m coming” Tom hangs up the phone, grips it tight for a moment as his head remains downcast. “Jesus, Tina...I’m sorry. He...well...the father, our chimera? He lost it.”

“He lost it?”

Tom takes a deep breath, “They’re all dead.”