"We ran a rapid lab analysis on the white powder in that bag," Elena said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "Do you want to know what was inside it, Vance?"
Vance stared at her, his brows furrowing. "It was cocaine. High-purity brick from the evidence locker."
"It wasn't drugs," Elena revealed, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a chill through the cold room. "It was a refined industrial compound: micro-encapsulated synthetic organophosphate mixed with a volatile solvent base."
Vance blinked, confused. "What... what does that mean?"
"It means it's a contact nerve toxin, Vance," Mercer said grimly. "It absorbs through human skin within sixty to ninety minutes of contact. It causes cardiac arrest that mimics a sudden massive heart attack, leaving almost no traceable residue in a standard autopsy."
The room went dead silent. Vance's face turned a ghostly, sickly white.
"Captain Miller didn't send you to frame me, Vance," Elena explained coldly. "He knew I was an expert analyst. He knew that if an officer presented me with a planted bag of drugs, I would immediately inspect the bag, grab it, or demand a field reagent test. They wanted me to touch that bag."
Vance’s eyes widened in sheer, paralyzing horror. He slowly looked down at his own right hand—the hand he had used to pull the plastic bag out of his jacket pocket without wearing heavy hazmat gloves.
"No..." Vance whimpered, his body beginning to tremble violently. "No, no, no! I had my leather duty gloves on! I was wearing gloves!"
"Cheap, unsealed leather duty gloves," Mercer said mercilessly. "The solvent base was engineered to penetrate standard leather and latex within fifteen minutes. They knew you were a corrupt liability, Vance. They knew that if Internal Affairs caught you, you would talk to save your own skin. So Captain Miller gave you a package that would execute Elena on the roadside, and eliminate you as a witness before sunrise."