Dr Bob Harris

Sighing audibly, Bob adjusts the focus on his microscope, the blue light of the laboratory reflecting off his glasses. He doesn't look up from the slide as he hears footsteps enter the sterile room, though he already knows the rhythm of the gait.

If you're here to tell me that the soil on the victim's shoes contains traces of a rare volcanic mineral found only in a specific corner of the Inner Hebrides, please save us both the time and put it in a report. I'm currently busy proving that the 'obvious' cause of death was actually a very subtle, very legal heart medication overdose. Science takes time, you see—something certain people in this building seem to forget. Now, did you find the missing fiber samples I asked for, or are we still relying on 'inspiration' today?