“Yes, it is.”
"What prompted your interest in gold mining environmental impact?"
"It's connected to my broader work on industrial pollution," Martinez replied, his academic enthusiasm making him seem like he almost enjoyed having the conversation. "Gold mining involves some of the most environmentally destructive processes in extractive industries. Cyanide leaching, mercury amalgamation, acid mine drainage—all of it creates contamination that persists for decades after mining operations cease."
Miles found Martinez's explanation compelling from a scientific perspective, but something about the man's nervous energy suggested there were additional layers to his basement activities. "The equipment in your basement lab looked pretty sophisticated for studying environmental impact. Can you walk us through your specific methodology?"
Martinez shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I've been experimenting with different chemical processes to understand how gold can be extracted and refined using less environmentally damaging techniques. It involves creating small batches of gold leaf and subjecting them to various chemical treatments to test their stability and reactivity."
"Creating gold leaf?" Vic asked. "That seems like a very specialized skill."
"It's not as difficult as most people assume," Martinez said, his academic pride overcoming his caution. "Gold is naturally malleable, and with proper equipment and technique, you can create very thin sheets suitable for various applications. The key is controlling temperature and pressure during the rolling and beating processes."
Miles felt his excitement building as Martinez described techniques that matched exactly what they'd observed at their crime scenes. If hewastheir killer, he was literally describing his process to them.
But before Miles could ask follow-up questions about gold leaf application techniques, Vic's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and her expression became more serious. She shook her head as she read the message, but a thin smile crept to her lips. She looked at Vic, then at Martinez.
"Dr. Martinez," she said, setting her phone on the table, "I just received a message from the local police department. They've completed a thorough examination of your basement laboratory, and they're reporting evidence of methamphetamine production. Can you explain that?"
The effect of Vic's words on Martinez was immediate and dramatic. His shoulders sagged as if an enormous weight had settled on them. His carefully maintained composure crumbled into defeated resignation.
"Yes," he said simply. "I've been cooking meth."
Miles was startled by the casual directness of Martinez's admission. After all his evasiveness about the gold experiments, he was now confessing to federal drug crimes with no apparent hesitation. And he didn’t seem to be all that bothered about it.
"You're admitting to manufacturing controlled substances?" Vic asked, clearly as surprised as Miles by Martinez's sudden honesty.
"What's the point of denying it now?" Martinez replied. He looked like a kid who had been caught stealing but was still determined that he wasn’t quite in the wrong. "You've seen my laboratory, you've found my equipment. I assume that's why you came to interview me in the first place."
Miles realized what was happening. Martinez had been terrified that they'd discovered his drug operation, not because they suspected him of murder. His panic, his attempt to flee, his desperate run toward the basement—all of it had been motivated by his fear of drug charges, not homicide investigation. Maybe, Miles theorized, Martinez was so quick to admit to the meth because he’d started to understand that they were eyeing him for something much more damning.
"Dr. Martinez," Miles said carefully, "we didn't come to see you because of drug manufacturing. We came because we're investigating a series of murders involving people who've been coated in gold leaf."
Martinez's confusion was genuine and immediate. To say he was baffled was an understatement. "Murders? What murders?"
Vic pulled out a folder containing crime scene photographs and spread them across the metal table. "Four people have been killed over the past two weeks. All of them were wealthy individuals involved in questionable business practices, and all of them were found coated in gold leaf applied with professional precision."
Martinez stared at the photographs, his face going pale as he absorbed the images of Rebecca Thornfield, Patricia Vance, Nelson DeWalt, and David Goldberg. His hands began to tremble as he studied each photograph, and Miles could see genuine horror building in his expression.
"Jesus Christ," Martinez whispered. "This is... this is insane. Who would do something like this?"
"That's what we're trying to determine," Miles said, studying Martinez's face for any sign of deception or guilty knowledge. "You have the technical expertise to create professional quality gold leaf. You just admitted itandtold us how it’s done. You've expressed strong resentment against wealth hoarders, and you had detailed knowledge of at least one victim's business practices."
"But I didn't kill anyone," Martinez said emphatically, his voice rising with desperate sincerity. It was almost at a squeak. "Yes, I think Patricia Vance and people like her are parasites who destroy communities for profit. Okay, yes. Yes, I've been using my skills to manufacture drugs to pay my bills since I lost my academic position. But murder? I would never, ever consider harming another human being, no matter how much I disagreed with their politics or business practices."
Miles found himself believing Martinez's protestations. The man's shock at seeing the crime scene photographs seemed authentic. Also, his ready admission to drug crimes while vehemently denying involvement in murder suggested that he understood the relative severity of different criminal charges.
"Dr. Martinez," Vic said, "where did you obtain the gold you've been using in your experiments?"
"I…I purchased it from another former UC Berkeley employee," Martinez replied. "When the university cleaned out the chemistry department storage areas after budget cuts, some materials went missing. I had a decent idea of who took it…and so I called them up and told them I was continuing my research independently. They offered to sell me various chemical supplies, including some gold samples that had been used in undergraduate metallurgy courses."
"Can you provide us with this person's name and contact information?"
"Of course. But it was a very small amount of material—maybe four or five ounces total. Nothing like what would be required for..." He gestured toward the crime scene photographs. "For something like this."
Miles studied the images spread across the table, calculating the amount of gold that would be required to completely coat a human body. "You're right. This would require pounds of gold, not ounces. Someone with access to much larger quantities of precious metals."
"Do you know anyone who might have access to that much gold?" Vic asked. "Anyone in the academic community or the environmental activism circles you're involved with?"
