When Dr. Kitwaela entered, Oona had already been investigating for almost three hours every square centimetre of Jonathan's remains. On his face there was no sign of annoyance. On the contrary, he inquired with genuine curiosity whether she had found something.
Concentrated she shook her head. “No, I have taken samples of bone and tissue where I am not sure of, but no breakthrough.”
“So nothing that points at another cause of death than the stampede?”
“Unless these samples contain other traces, no. Do you know where we can have these examined in a lab?”
“Normally we would send them to Nairobi. But I am afraid that is out of the question now.”
“I am sure Abacus has a number of well equipped labs?”
“Not our own clinical lab. But there is a lab at the chemical research centre and one for bio-mechanics. I am sure that they can give us a hand if they want to.”
Oona pulled off her latex gloves, disposed them in the dedicated container and walked to the exit with her sample box. “Want to? That is only a call from Ian. Let's go there as soon as possible.”
Dr. Kitwaela had to double fold to fit into the car as he slipped next to Oona. “Why they make these cars so small, it really beats me," he complained.
Oona, even with her one meter seventy, was a striking contrast with Kitwaela. She protested: “and I think they make them far too big. Tell me, how do I need to drive to the closest lab?”