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True 007: A Bizarre Umbrella Murder | Rolls

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Small seeds have influenced the course of human civilization. The aroma of nutmeg and pepper inspired the human desire to explore and opened a new era of geographical discovery; the thin film wings of Javanese cucumber seeds inspired human beings to design lethal stealth bombers; Middle Eastern wheat affected the survival and destiny of several countries, and cotton seeds opened the prelude to the modern industrial revolution... The murder we are going to talk about today also shows the victory of the seed.

True 007: A Bizarre Umbrella Murder | Rolls

This article is an authorized excerpt from The Victory of seeds (CITIC Press) under the editorial title. Go to the "Back to Park" public account and click "Read the original text" at the end of the article to purchase this book. Click "Watching" and post your thoughts to the message area, as of October 31, 2021 at 12:00 noon, we will select 2 messages, each person will give away 1 book.

Written by | Thor Hanson

Translate | Yang Tingting

If you drink a lot of potion from a bottle that says "poison," you'll suffer sooner or later.

—Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865)

In the novel, when a thrilling event is about to take place in London, the fog will always envelop the city. In Oliver Twist, thick fog obscures robberies and kidnappings. Under the cover of thick fog, the vampire Dracula comes to Mina Harker, while in The Sign of Four, Sherlock Holmes sees the fog swirling in the street before the decisive event. But on September 7, 1978, when Georgi Markov parked his car and began to walk toward the Waterloo Bridge, the early morning showers had stopped and the sky was clear and sunny. If there had been fog that day, Markov would probably have left his windproof jacket in his closet and gone out in an overcoat or at least a pair of thicker pants. Any one of these circumstances could have saved his life.

In his native Bulgaria, Markov's novels and plays made him a famous literary star, a man of social and political elite. He even hunted with the president. Since defecting to the West, his insider information has helped him comment precisely and sharply about the repression that followed the Iron Curtain. He hosts a weekly programme on Radio Free Europe, he also works for the BBC, and on a deadly afternoon he was on his way to work at the BBC. Markov knew that his remarks had put him at risk, and he had even received several death threats. But he was a relatively small man—no one expected him to be the target of a conspiracy, much less that the conspiracy would later become one of the most famous assassinations of the Cold War. Moreover, no one expected the weapon of this murder to be so abnormal that even his widow could not believe that it was such a thing that killed him.

Passing a bus stop on the south side of the bridge, Markov felt a sudden stab in his right thigh, and he turned around to see a man bending down to pick up an umbrella. The stranger whispered an apology to him, left in a nearby taxi, and disappeared without a trace. When Markov returned to the office, he found a trace of blood on his leg and a small wound. He told one of his colleagues about it, but then he put it behind. Late that night, however, his wife noticed that he had suddenly developed a high fever. He told his wife about his encounter with strangers at the bus stop, and they began to wonder if he had been stabbed by a poisonous umbrella? And the truth of the matter is even more bizarre.

"The umbrella gun was invented in the laboratory of the KGB, the Soviet intelligence agency, and is equivalent to Mr. Q's laboratory." Mark Stott told me that he also mentioned the fictional workshop that makes all sorts of spyware, famous for the James Bond film series. But while explosive toothpaste and fire-breathing bagpipes are on the market in Hollywood, toxic weapons are rare in real-world espionage operations. "The technical content is always low," Stott continues, "one person shoots another person, or a bomb explodes." At that time, the umbrella gun, and the small bullets it fired, was a great achievement in engineering. ”

I called Mark Stott to inquire about The Markov case, because he served for three years as chief historian at the International Spy Museum. Such a job title would seem remarkable to have printed on a business card, but it also gave him access to a replica of the umbrella gun, made by a veteran of the KGB's laboratory where the original umbrella gun was made. The replica is displayed in an exhibition area of the museum called the School for Spies, where it is displayed with another KGB invention, the lipstick pistol for single-shot shooting. By the time I spoke to him, he had moved to a more traditional academic position, but he still showed great enthusiasm for the world of secret agents. "That umbrella used compressed air, exactly like the BB gun." He explained eagerly. I could hear the creak of his office chair on the other end of the phone, and I could imagine him sitting in his chair and spinning around in the office, stopping and leaning back in his chair to think. "But it's designed for ultra-short range, 1 inch, up to 2 inches." In Markov's case, they almost shot with an umbrella on his leg. ”

For pathologists in 1978, however, they had no recourse to any spy museum or historian. Their patient died shortly afterwards in a hospital in London, the cause of death appearing to be severe blood poisoning, but they could not reasonably explain his symptoms. The autopsy report mentioned a red, swollen pinprick hole in his thigh, but it looked like an insect bite rather than a stab wound. The mysterious little bullet left in his body was so tiny that the technicians ignored it, thinking it was a stain on the X-ray. If another dissident Bulgarian had not suffered a similar incident, the investigation would most likely have stopped. The Bulgarian was attacked near the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, but recovered after a brief period of discomfort. This time, the doctors noticed the stabbing he had mentioned, and they quickly removed a small silver-gray bead from his lower back. Since he was wearing a thick sweater at the time, the bullet did not penetrate the layer of connective tissue around the muscle, and most of the toxins did not spread. The medical examiner in London immediately re-examined Markov's body, found an identical bullet from the wound on his leg, and cautiously came to the well-known conclusion of murder: "I do not see in the slightest that this was an accident." ”

To the public, The Markov murder turned James Bond's fantasy world into a reality — the same year that the movie "The Spy Who Loved Me" became one of the highest-grossing British films in history. For investigators, the case leaves two big unsolvable questions: Who is the person holding the umbrella? And — something that both British Intelligence and the CIA are eager to find out — what kind of poison can kill people in such small doses? The first question remains unanswered. Soviet defectors later confirmed that the KGB had provided umbrellas and small bullets to the Bulgarian government, but key details remained vague and no one was arrested for committing that crime. However, in the process of solving the poison puzzle, an international team of pathologists and intelligence experts came to an agreement. After weeks of meticulous forensic analysis, they came to their conclusions, and in the process, some pharmacologists, organic chemists, and a 200-pound (90-kilogram) pig all contributed.

The first challenge was to determine exactly how much of the toxin had entered Markov's body. The small bullet removed from his thigh was less than 0.05 inches (about 1.5 millimeters) in diameter, and there were two carefully drilled holes in the small bullet, and the total capacity of the two small holes was estimated at sixteenths of a million ounces (450 micrograms). (Figuratively, the tip of a ballpoint pen is gently pressed against a piece of paper, leaving tiny ink spots as big as that little bullet—holes that need to be seen under a microscope.) Knowing the dose, the toxin was reduced to some of the world's deadliest compounds. The team quickly ruled out bacterial reagents such as botulinum toxin, diphtheria, and tetanus, all of which triggered obvious symptoms or immune responses. The radioactive isotopes of plutonium and polonium also don't meet the requirements — they can be fatal, but the victim will not die for a long time. Arsenic, thallium, and the nerve gas sarin are not strong enough, and while cobra venom may react similarly, it requires at least twice the dose. Only one class of toxins has the potential to produce Markov's deadly symptoms so quickly: the toxins in the seeds.

For thousands of years, executioners and assassins have been looking from seeds for ways to kill people. The plant kingdom usually offers many toxins, but the advantages of seeds are ease of storage as well as their high efficiency. They are the most toxic part of the hemlock plant that poisoned Socrates, and the whitehellebore suspected of poisoning Alexander the Great. The seeds of the plants bearing a repulsive amount of the plant earned the nickname "vomit buttons," and those who died from their toxins included a Turkish president and Victorian serial killer Dr. Kerim. Thomas Cream) murdered a young woman. In Madagascar and Southeast Asia, hundreds of people die each year from a salt marsh plant called the suicide tree. When William Shakespeare needed a convincing poison juice to pour into Hamlet's father's ear, he thought about the killing potential of the seed. Most scholars believe that his "leperous distilment" must be the extract of henbane seeds. As fans of speculative fiction know, Arthur Conan Doyle's drug "devil's foot," which nearly killed Holmes and Watson, was based on the deadly West African poison calabar bean. The plants all relied on alkaloids to provide the toxin, but the Markov investigators quickly narrowed it down to a rarer, deadlier, and more difficult to detect toxin.

Castrol Motor Oil Corporation's slogan inadvertently breaks through the substance: "Castrol, not just lubricants." Castrol was founded and the company name derived from the preparation of engine lubricants from the seeds of castor beanplant, an African perennial euphorbia shrub. Castor seeds store most of their energy in thick oils, which have a rare ability to maintain viscosity in extreme temperatures. (Although Castrol now produces a lot of products made from petroleum, castor seed oil is still the lubricant of choice for high-performance racing.) But castor beans also contain another substance—a special storage protein called ricin. Chemists know that ricin protein molecules have a peculiar double-stranded structure. In budding seeds, those molecules, like other storage proteins, break down the nitrogen, carbon, and sulfur that keep plants growing quickly. But in an animal — or in a dissident Bulgarian — their peculiar structure allows them to penetrate and destroy living cells. One strand pierces the surface of the cell and the other breaks off inside the cell, wreaking havoc on the ribosome— a small particle that translates the cell's genetic code into action (in biochemistry, this makes ribosome inactivating proteins, which have an appropriate abbreviated form, RIPs*) that enter the bloodstream. Ricin causes massive cell deaths, and even scientific journals describe it in a tone of near-amazement: "one of the deadliest substances known today," "one of the best poisons," or simply "highly toxic substances." To make matters worse, castor seeds also contain a potent allergen, so the poisoned person suffers even more before dying, sneezing violently, runny nose, and emitting painful rashes on his body.

Theoretically, if the small bullet in Markov's leg was filled with ricin protein, that dose would be enough to kill all the cells in his body several times. But investigators lack more valuable evidence to continue their investigation. He died too quickly, did not form any recognizable antibodies in time, although it is known that ricin can cause death, but the record of poisoning due to this toxin is extremely rare, and there is no clinical record of related poisoning symptoms. So the pathologists decided to do a trial. They found a batch of castor seeds, extracted a dose of castor poison protein, and injected it into an unsuspecting pig. Within 26 hours, the pig was dead, in exactly the same way as Markov. "Animal advocates will be shocked." One of the doctors involved in the case made this comment. But it was later revealed that the Bulgarian scientists had acted even more brutally. They had experimented on a prison inmate with a smaller dose, and the man survived, after which they adjusted the dose for Markov. When they calculated the dose to ensure they could kill an adult horse, they implemented the plan.

The Murder of George Markov casts the media spotlight on the murderous potential of the seeds. Criminals noticed it, and ricin became a special weapon of bioterrorism. In recent years, anonymous letters smeared with ricin have been sent to the White House, the US Congress, the mayor of New York, and various other government agencies, sometimes forcing post offices to close for weeks. In 2003, when London police raided a room suspected of belonging to Al Qaeda, they confiscated 22 castor seeds, a coffee grinder and enough chemical equipment to complete simple refining. (They also seized large quantities of apple seeds and ground cherry cores, both of which contain trace amounts of cyanide.) The toxins in seeds are still attractive because they are not only toxic, but also easily available. When I needed some castor seeds myself, I searched the Internet and soon dozens of varieties were publicly available for legal sale. Castor seeds are still grown for their oil or used as a decoration, and the plant has also become a roadside weed throughout the tropics. After a few mouse clicks and payment by credit card, a batch of castor beans was delivered to my door—they were the size of thumb nails, beautiful and shiny, and their smooth skin was dotted with purple-red curls. They take on a variety of colors, from brown earth to pink, and are often strung together into necklaces to make earrings and bracelets. In fact, bright "warning" colors have made many poisonous seeds trending in the beading industry, from rosary pea to coral beans, horse-eyes, and various cycads. However, there is another reason why castor seeds and other poisonous seeds are common. This is a principle that forms the basis of the modern pharmaceutical industry, and was perfectly expressed by the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and the children's literature writer Lewis Carroll in the 19th century.

True 007: A Bizarre Umbrella Murder | Rolls

Pictured: Ricinus communis .j. Jewelry manufacturers are constantly searching for it because of the beauty of the castor plant seed, which, in addition to containing a highly valuable oil, contains one of the world's deadliest toxins, ricin protein. The protective barbed seed pods burst when dried, allowing castor seeds to be thrown 35 feet (about 11 meters) away from the mother plant. Illustration, 2014, Suzanne Olive.

Nietzsche is remembered primarily for his views on religion and morality, but he also coined the maxim: "What does not kill me makes me stronger." His words are a commentary on life, but they also illustrate a fact about seed toxins. Louis Carroll made the same point, and that is that his most famous character, Alice, reminded himself not to drink too much potion from a bottle that said "poison." Through the word "many" in the phrase, Carroll implies that drinking "a little" of the potion from such a bottle is completely harmless and may even be beneficial to the human body. This statement is once again in line with the situation of poisonous seeds. As long as they are not lethal doses, many toxins can be used in medicine – important therapies against some of the world's most serious diseases. For Alice, the bottle contained not poison but a medicine to shrink her body, preparing her for her next adventure in Wonderland. Nietzsche's example seems to be even more significant. Shortly after he wrote that famous aphorism, he developed a mental illness that scholars now interpret as an attack of brain cancer, one of the diseases currently treated with seed extracts.

In poison terminology, ricin is a cytotoxin—a cell killer. Ricin poison proteins, along with similar compounds in mistletoe, soapwort and acacia bean seeds, have a lot of potential in a small-scale killing operation: purposefully killing cancer cells. By attaching these ribosome inactivated proteins to antibodies against tumors, researchers have successfully fought cancer in laboratory trials and clinical trials, and have also used quercemic extracts in tens of thousands of patients to help them fight cancer. Of course, the challenge is twofold: finding the right dosage, and making sure the toxin doesn't get into other parts of the body.

Whether ricin can become a widely used cancer treatment remains to be seen. If it does, then it will be a part of other seed medicines at the time of the drug's origin, as well as botanicals. Wild primates, from chimpanzees to capuchin monkeys, often heal themselves with plants, choosing specific seeds, leaves, and bark that have therapeutic properties. In the Central African Republic, researchers saw a gorilla pulling jungle-sop seeds out of elephant droppings, and to their surprise, the seeds contain potent alkaloids, and local healers included them (and the plant's leaves and leaves) in medicines for diseases ranging from foot pain to stomach ailments. This pattern is repeated throughout the tropics: primates carefully search the rainforest's "pharmacies" for drugs that can help them eliminate parasites or relieve injuries and diseases. Anthropologists do not suspect that our own ancestors did the same thing. In fact, a study in the Amazon found that the plants used by hunter-gatherers were very similar to monkey selections. These ancient habits are not only at the heart of traditional medicine, but are also constantly promoting the development of new medicines.

To gauge the importance of seeds in modern medicine, I reached out to David Newman, a drug development expert at the National Institutes of Health. By the mid-20th century, he told me, a large proportion of medicines were derived from plants, many of which came from compounds in seeds. Even in today's era of synthetics, antibiotics, and gene therapies, nearly 5 percent of all new drugs approved for use in the United States come directly from plant extracts. In Europe, this number is even higher. A recent summary of seed medicine research quickly exceeded 1,200 pages, contributing to the 300 scientists working in laboratories around the world. Seed extracts play a role in the treatment of many diseases, from Parkinson's disease (wild peas and fluffy beans) to HIV [blackbean and pokeweed], Alzheimer's [calabar bean], hepatitis [milk thistle], varicose veins [horse chestnut], psoriasis [bishop's flower]. and cardiac arrest [climbing oleander]. These compounds, like ricin proteins, are both poisons and therapeutic agents, and another famous example happens to come from the seeds of the coumba tree.

About the Author

Thor Hanson is a well-known American biologist, wildlife conservationist, Guggenheim Researcher, Swetze Environmental Foundation Researcher, and member of the Human Ecosystem Research Organization. He is also an outstanding popular science writer, having won several awards for his excellence in nature writing.

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