A CHILDHOOD FAVOURITE DISCOVERED...AN UNFORGETTABLE EXPERIENCE:
PART 1: THE MURDER OF NAPOLEON

Many years ago, maybe when I was in seventh or eight standard, I read one of the most interesting stories I have ever come across, that of the murder of Napoleon Bonaparte. Even today, many people are innocent of this fact and believe that he died a natural death on St. Helena, where he was imprisoned. However, in the 1950s, a Swedish dentist named Sten Forshufvud had a hunch about Napoleon's possible murder when he read about the circumstances of his death. The medical records carefully preserved at that time finally led Forshufvud to a singular conclusion; that Napoleon was a victim of arsenic poisoning. But how could he prove it? Foraging through old records and testimonies, Forshufvud gradually built up a remarkable story of murder and deception. The murder was possibly committed by someone who had easy access to the kitchen, and possibly through the favourite brand of wine which Napoleon loved. Arsenic is perfect for such jobs because it is cheap and easily available, and it is almost completely tasteless. Most importantly, its presence could not be detected in the body during post mortem, at least during those times, and it kills the victim slowly but surely. In doing so, it produces symptoms which could easily be interpreted as those of other well known ailments...No wonder arsenic is such a popular form of poisoning since Roman times. Forshufvud went over all the evidence and made sure that there were no loopholes in his theory, before he could present this audacious finding to the world. One evidence in particular was truly striking. Nineteen years after his death, it was decided that Napoleon's tomb be opened and his remains moved to a more formal and respectable burial ground in France. When the tomb was finally opened, the onlookers braced themselves for the sight. But where they expected to see a skeleton, they saw the untouched, perfectly preserved figure of their Emperor, looking as if he were merely asleep, and in fact younger than most of them! They were astonished at the spectacle but, given the beliefs of those times, no one should be surprised if they attributed the sight to divine intervention of some kind. The implications of this event for Forshufvud's theory; arsenic is also an exceptional preserving agent that greatly slows down decomposition of organic matter! This was surely the kind of proof that Forshufvud was looking for. But science needs material proof, not historical. There was no question about Forshufvud opening Napoleon's tomb again. The authorities, not to mention the people of France, just wouldn't have allowed it. But there was one chance. In those times, people frequently used to preserve locks of hair of a deceased person (and I believe they still do, in some cultures). Arsenic in hair is a sure sign of poisoning. If Forshufvud could track down any of the Emperor's descendents or a descendent of his valets, perhaps he or she could give him a strand of hair for his experiments. This in fact turned out to be the case. A man who was a member of the Napoleonic Society agreed to give him a strand of hair which he had obtained from the collection of one of Napoleon's valets. With the techniques of modern science at his hand, Forshufvud could now go ahead at full steam. Using a then new and ultra sensitive technique called Neutron Activation Analysis, Forshufvud finally got through the piece de resistance. The data showed incontrovertible existence of arsenic in the hair sample. Not only that, but analysing various layers of the hair proved that the arsenic had been slowly but regularly administered through food or drink. As far as Forshufvud was concerned, the case was closed. Napoleon certainly had been murdered. Moreover, this was truly a perfect murder, because the murderer was never caught, and indeed carried the secret to his grave. Who was it? ...I will leave it to you to find out from the book that Forshufvud and co author Ben Weider published, which I am (re)reading right now! I discovered it again in the library here and it brought back many memories...

PART 2: INTO THE LIBRARY AND WHAT I FOUND THERE...
As far as I was concerned, I found this story absolutely fascinating. Forshufvud's investigation was so perfect that he could actually publish his theory in the prestigious science journal NATURE. I decided that I had to get my hands on this article. Now the only place where I could do this at that time was the Fergusson College library. Anyone of you who has ventured looking for old books in this library, would agree with me in noting that it is possibly the only true remnant of the dark ages, surely undisturbed since Newton's time. If you took a look at any old book or journal here, there's almost no doubt that it was last checked out at least a hundred years ago, if not never. With such a track record, you won't be surprised if I tell you that climbing up the dark stairs in the back of the library and setting foot into the even darker rooms where old journal copies are kept, presents a sight such as no other to the eye. Generous quantities of cobwebs are strung across everywhere, with their creators nowhere in sight. They too perhaps died of boredom in this place. Stacks upon stacks of books and encyclopedias stare at you through their gloomy eyes, basking in the glory of their 19th century origin, when the library was actually a place to READ, and generations enjoyed the knowledge immortalised in their pages. But now its all gone, and the place looks literally like an alchemist's den, if not like the House On The Haunted Hill. If it were not for your desire to glean knowledge from these old gems, you would surely sense a foreboding, dark presence here and not venture to stay a minute longer. But, melancholy as the atmosphere in this place is, for a school kid fascinated by a mystery whose conclusion he hopes to find here and nowhere else, the place also arouses an acute sense of wonder, excitement and discovery. Climbing up the stairs and into this inviting, almost sacred looking room can only be compared to the little girl's discovery of the secret garden, to Ali Baba's of the cave of treasures, or to Alice’s excursions down the rabbit hole. So it was with this inexplicable mixture of sentiments that I entered this room upstairs and looked for that particular issue of Nature published in 1961. After getting due doses of layers of dust and cobwebs on my hands, I finally found it. Needless to say, because I hardly knew any fundamental science at that age, when I opened it to the requisite page, I did not understand a word! But still, I won't ever forget that whole experience. Because here I was, holding a piece of paper, on which was certain proof of a tumultuous event in history, one that shook conventional acceptance of that event, whose veracity had been taken for granted in polite social circles. And here was science overturning the tables on social dogma in the hands of a singular scientist who begged to differ. This search for the truth by Forshufvud represents a remarkably common but still profound phenomenon in the History of mankind. It is at such moments that one cannot help but think that there is an absolute truth out there and that somehow science will discover it. I cannot say that it was this experience that encouraged me to study science. But because of this journey of discovery, starting with the story in Reader's Digest, then continuing through the unforgettable experience in Fergusson College's Library and finally ending in the pages of a respected science journal, I certainly understood that there is more to the world than what meets the eye. On a somber, down to earth and damning note, I have to say that except for one or two kind ones, the wretched Library Assistants wouldn't have allowed me to set foot in that section, had my parents not been teachers in Fergusson College. They were, and still are, exactly like the snakes who guard the gold, yearn for it, and still cannot partake of it. They did, and still do, deny entry to interested students who want to do no more than satisfy their curiosity about science and the world. And I know that after a few years, the pages of all these books and journals would have turned to dust, they would have been discarded, and new ones would have been condemned to spend their lives in the library, untouched and unused by anyone, guarded by a new breed of hissing library assistants denying students entry to those sections. And I also know that this is more or less the case everywhere in the country. And then we wonder why India no longer produces many fine scientists and thinkers...
Strangely, if you think of it, I was not prepared to have such a unique experience. After all, I was just another enthusiastic kid eagerly waiting to find out the conclusion of a damn good murder mystery...