Since 1978.
Sophia pushed open the heavy door and found herself in a small room full of glass cases.
Behind the counter, leaning over a magnifying glass, sat the same man we had seen in the subway.
“Please,” he said without looking up.
“Did you bring the pendant?”
“Not.”
Sophia took the jewelry out of her pocket and placed it on the counter.
Richard Sterling put his work aside for a moment and carefully examined the pendant without touching it. Then he put on thin gloves and picked it up.
“I didn’t introduce myself properly. My name is Richard Sterling. Before I retired, I worked as an expert witness in the Major Homicide Unit, specializing in poisoning and toxicology. For the past fifteen years, I’ve been in the jewelry business—a hobby that practically became my profession.”
Sophia felt her hands go cold.
“Exactly. And when I saw your pendant on the subway, I knew immediately something was wrong. Listen, I’ve been dealing with poisoning for years, and I recognize the telltale signs immediately. The color of your face, the dark circles under your eyes, the general fatigue—classic symptoms of chronic poisoning.”
“But the doctors found nothing because they weren’t looking in the right place. They examined your body instead of analyzing your surroundings.”
He turned the pendant on its side.
“See that line? It’s not decoration. It’s a hidden mechanism.”
Richard took a thin device, resembling a dental probe, from a drawer and carefully inserted it into a barely visible slit on the side of the pendant.
There was a soft crack and the pendant opened in half.
Sophia stifled a scream.
Inside, nestled in a special recess, lay a small capsule, no larger than a grain of rice. It was translucent and contained a dark substance.
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