Heinz Noonan, the “Bearded Holmes” of the Sandersonville Police Department, was struggling with the top of a fish food vial over the aquarium along the back wall of his office when a woman entered from the front. She didn’t say a word, just sat in the worn chair beside his desk. Noonan, muttering boomer expressions which were PC and would have made his college-aged twins roll their eyes humorously, turned back to his desk and stood in shocked surprise. But it was how the woman was dressed that generated the shock, not that she had entered his office unobtrusively.

She was dressed like a snake.

“That’s quite an outfit,” the detective said as he advanced to his desk. “I don’t get many people dressed like …”

Before he could finish, she finished his statement, “a snake.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what I was about to say.”

“Well, Captain, I’m dressed like this to capture your attention.”

“You have. And until there’s a crime, I’m just Heinz.”

“Until you solve the crime, I’m Jeanette Haber. I’m a snake milker.”

“Really? I’d never guessed.”

She started to speak but Noonan cut her off with a wave of his hand. As she waited, he dug for a notebook with an empty page from the pile of notebooks on his desk top. When he found one — and a pen — he urged her to continue speaking.

“Heinz, only my close friends know I’m a snake milker. For the rest of them, I’m a veterinary assistant. No one has ever asked what a vet assistant does.”

“I can understand that. What, exactly, does a snake milker do?”

“We, and there are not that many of us, milk venom from poisonous snakes. It’s a peripatetic business. I have a dozen clients — primarily snake farms, called serpentariums — and spend my day milking snakes. Most people do not know that snake venom goes into a lot of medicines. It’s used to fight cancer, Alzheimer’s, heart disease, diabetes, as pain management, and some people use it as a substitute for Botox. It’s not a miracle cure for anything, but it slows a lot of degenerative processes.”

“And anti-venom,” Noonan added.

“That too.”

“OK, why are you here?”

“Because there appears to be a run on snake venom. That is, a small amount of snake venom is missing from my rounds. Not enough to rise to the level of a crime, but interestingly low.”

“What, exactly, does ‘interesting low’ mean?”

“I have to explain it backwards. The amount of venom I get from snakes depends on a lot of factors. I do not get the same amount from each snake, even if they are the same species. Different species of snakes produce different types and amounts of venom. They are not like a herd of cattle where all cattle end up in the same slaughterhouse and the meat of one animal is indistinguishable from all the rest.”

“So some venom is missing?”

“Yes, small amounts at some of my stops. North Carolina does not have the volume — to use a term you will understand that has no meaning in my business — of snake venom as in other states. Areas that have large serpentariums or geographically close serpentariums have resident snake milkers and full-service labs. My clients are small so I do a lot of the lab work. Everything from milking the snake to storing the venom.”

“Small or large does not make a lot of difference,” Noonan said as he slid his notebook to her, “give me the name of the snake farms that are missing venom. And the kind of venom missing. Then make sure you put your name and contact information in the notebook. Now, a couple more questions. First, how do you know if there is venom missing? I mean, you milk the snake and store the vial — I assume it’s a vial — so no one can steal what you just extracted. So how do you know any venom is missing?”

Haber, head down, answered him as she was writing. “Bookkeeping paperwork does not match the shelf storage. Some vials are missing. I am one of the few people who have access to the shelf storage, so I know when something is missing.”

“Did you report the missing vials?”

“Nope. That’s not the department. All I did, do, plan on continuing to do, is record the vials I put in storage. What the company does with the vials is not my concern, but it is odd, you know, that the vials are disappearing and there is no paperwork associated with he disappearance. I’m here because, well, I’m concerned that at some time in the future, I might be accused of making off with vials of snake venom.”

“So, you haven’t mentioned it to anyone at any of the farms?”

“Correct. I am continuing to do what I am paid to do. My concern is the administrative chain of command. By that I mean the people who should be concerned are way up in the administration, and a lot of them are not on-site.”

Haber handed Noonan his notebook back. As the detective read the listing, he asked, “How about the people who handle the storage. They have to know some vials are missing.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. At the small serpentariums, the loss is small. That is, a vial could have fallen on the floor. One vial is not a lot, even for them. But the larger serpentariums, well, someone has to know the vials are missing.”

“Are those vials insured? I mean, if they are missing or the vials are broken, or the venom is spoiled, is there a way to get some money for the loss?”

“Could be. I’m not sure. That’s not my department, so to speak.”

Noonan closed the notebook. “Well, I’ll do some looking around, but the way I see it, there is no crime here. I mean, as far as I know, no one has reported a theft.” He cut off Haber as she started to speak, “and I will keep your name out of it. No reason for it to be involved because, as I said before, there is no crime here.”

Whenever Noonan had a loo-loo call, he went to his two best sources of information, local history and newspapers. When it came to the listing of facilities that offered a “snake experience,” they were plentiful. Many were zoos, and there was a collection of what could loosely be described as serpentariums. When it came to milking snakes, there was not that much information as to locations. While venomous snakes could be milked anywhere, the venom was usually freeze-dried and sent to laboratories. The occupation was considered dangerous — no surprise there — because there was enough venom in some of the species to kill a full-grown man.

But there was a significant upside, medically speaking. The venom itself was universally described as life-saving as long as it was not administered ‘in the round’ by a snake. Its components were used in drugs that treated heart failure, strokes, minimized chronic pain, fought cancer, and were used experimentally to treat Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. It was also used to prevent blood clots and showed experimental signs of being useful in treating conditions like diabetes. To Noonan’s surprise, it was also a substitute for Botox. Quoting directly from Google, “The unique properties of snake venom compounds offer a rich source of inspiration for drug discovery, potentially leading to breakthroughs in medicine and improving human health.” Then the script on Google took a deep dive into esoterica, which Noonan did not understand.

There were some articles on snakes in North Carolina, but none that gave the detective a clue to the loss of any venom, accidental or on purpose. He used a wide range of law enforcement software to see if there was any reference to snake venom theft — there was not — and other than occasional references to snakes being confiscated at crime scenes, there was no reference to snake venom theft. Humorously, there was an article about the escape of a zebra cobra into a Raleigh neighborhood. It had slipped out of the snake collector’s home — he had 75 snakes on the premises — and created a week-and-a-half hysteria in the neighborhood. This was understandable because the snake could spit venom up to nine feet.

This research was all well and good, but it did not guide him one inch toward discovering why snake venom vials were disappearing. Under normal circumstances, an odd term to use when he was dealing with a loo-loo call, he would call around the experts in the field to see if he could ferret out a reason for the difficulty. In his bones, he felt this loo loo call was different. He did not see a monetary motive with so little venom to be missing, and if the venom was missing from numerous snake facilities, then there had to be a nonmonetary reason. Therefore, calling for information locally was not an option. So he went oblique and made his informational calls to serpentariums in California. Even better, he made his calls to research labs at colleges. That way he took the profit motive out of his conversations.

That, however, did not last long. As he quickly discovered, the profit motive was a key ingredient to snake milking. The only saving grace was that researchers at colleges were focused on results, not a balance sheet.

His most productive call was to Dr. Hortense Wiezenstien in the Biology Department of a private college he had never heard of. Wiezenstien was a font of information, most of it so scientific that Noonan had a hard time following it. But when it came to following the money, she was ‘most excellent.’

“It’s good to know law enforcement is interested in the venom business,” she said in a pleasant tone. “It’s an industry that’s going through some changes, not all of them good.”

“Really?” Noonan said and a dull gong went off in the convoluted canals of his cerebral cortex.

“It all stems from money, of course. It always does. With the increase in population over the past two decades, the number of snake owners has gone up. Substantially. I guess what I find surprising is the number of venous serpents being smuggled into the country.”

“Really?” Noonan did not stop her verbal perambulation.

“Most people do not think of snakes as pets. Rather, most people think of them as tools of evil, so to speak. The actual number of people who will pick up a snake like it was a small dog is rather low. Then there are the poisonous varieties. Those are the ones I hear about.”

“Do a lot of snake collectors get bitten?

“No. People who have poisonous snakes know they are poisonous and are careful. The ones who get bitten are the children who aren’t as careful as their parents. Or showing off for their friends.”

Noonan saw an avenue. “The young people who get bitten, do they go see a doctor?”

“Oh, yes. Snake venom is deadly, particularly for people with small bodies, like children.”

“How prevalent is snake venom medicine, I mean, if someone is bitten by a snake in, say, Los Angeles, does every doctor or every pharmacy have a cure?”

Wiezenstien chuckled, “It’s not that simple. The venom medicine needed depends on the snake. Some pharmacies have medicine for local snakes, like rattlesnakes, but if it’s, say, a cobra or sea snake, maybe not.”

“So there isn’t a universal snake venom medicine.”

“Not the way you mean it.”

“Well, let me put it another way. In most cases, when someone is bitten by a poisonous snake, there is usually a medical cure available locally.”

“That’s generally true. The more exotic the snake, the less likely it is that there is a local cure. For a rare snake, to use a street term, the person might be put on a plane and sent to a specialist. There are also other problems involved. Snake venom has come into its own within the past decade, and it’s being used for more and more conditions. Ten years ago, no one was thinking of snake venom as a way to stall Alzheimer’s, as a substitute for Botox, or a diabetes medicine. It’s a whole new world, medically speaking, and, at the same time, there have been problems.”

The gong in Noonan’s cerebral cortex chimed louder.

“Problems?”

“Oh, yes. The current Secretary of Health and Human Services has thrown a kibosh in the research business. Funding has been cut — or will be cut — and a lot of snake venom is now just sitting on shelves rather than being tested. Money is the lifeblood of the snake venom business just like, well, in real life.”

“So,” Noonan said cautiously, “across the country, a lot of snake venom research has been put on hold?”

“Sad but true. We’re waiting for the Secretary of Health and Human Services to get a brain, which may not happen any time soon.”

* * *

A week later, Harriet, the Office Manager and Tsar of Common Sense, wandered into Noonan’s office with a rubber snake and a sheet of paper with a used envelope. She waggled the snake as she sat down in the chair beside Noonan’s desk. Noonan looked at the snake with zero interest and sent it back to the cold case file he was perusing.

Harriet would have none of that. “Not so fast, buckaroo, Commissioner upstairs is in a titter. Already on the phone to arrange for a press conference on solving the case of the missing venomous snake serum. That means more money for his office.”

Noonan looked over the cold case file folder. “There was no case to solve.”

Harriet gave a harrumph. “Like that matters to His Majesty. Told me to take this snake,” she waggled the snake, “down to the file room. We don’t even have a file room.”

“Let me guess,” Noonan said as he put down the cold case file. “There was a newspaper reporter in the room when he ordered you to take the snake,” he pointed at the snake, “to the file room.”

“Three of them,” she said as she shook her head. “Now, oh ‘Bearded Holmes,’ tell momma about the loo call and snake venom.”

“Not much, actually. Clever lady pulled a fast one on the ‘Bearded Holmes.’ Clever lady.”

“Uh-huh, no, tell me.”

“Not much to tell. See, I think, there is a crisis in the venom snake business. Again, my guess is that there is plenty of snake venom for research and more than enough biologists who are working on the use of snake venom. But the problem is paying for the research.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the Secretary of Health and Human Services and the now-gone DOGE man, Elon Musk, gutted their budget. Everything is in place but the money.”

“So the research stopped.”

“Uh, not really. Here’s where I’m guessing. There was a lot on the line here. A lot of people had conditions that needed snake venom medicine.”

“But there was no money.”

“Not yet. There was a way to get that money but everyone had to be careful. So, a lot of folks whose names I never asked for, pulled a fast one. They simply kept giving the raw snake venom to the research people. Then the people who were storing the snake venom said the venom had disappeared.”

“That could be risky.”

“You are correct. The instant someone says stolen, there will be a police investigation. No one wanted that, so the venom had to disappear in such a way that the insurance company would pay the bill. I’d say the insurance company was in on it but I’m not sure.”

“Why would the insurance company be in on something like snake venom?”

“Again, my guess. The insurance companies, probably more than one, were probably interested in cures for some diseases they were already paying for. Like Alzheimer’s. If there was a cure, the medical insurance companies would be off the hook for millions. Billions nationwide.”

“Ah! So the insurance companies wanted cover for the disappearance of the snake venom. As long as the snake venom was going to the researchers, the insurance companies saw a long-term profit.”

“Again, my guess. The money that had been cut off by the Secretary of Health and Human Services was expected to be re-established.”

“Who’d do that?”

“Congress. The Secretary is not a popular fellow and there is enough pressure on his office to have him restart the money for the research. And Elon Musk is gone too. So the lack of money for research was only a momentary concern.”

“So,” Harriet shuck letter, “you came up with a plan.”

“No, the venom people did. If they had said the venom had been stolen, they would have had a police investigation. When they asked me to investigate, they knew I was not going to write up a police report because no crime had been committed. Venom has just disappeared.”

“So?”

“So I guessed the missing venom was because of a power failure at the serpentariums. Power failures are not recorded. I guessed — again, I guessed, not I stated — that a power failure was most likely the cause of snake venom being tossed out because it was unusable.”

“Was snake venom tossed out?”

“Who knows? Who cares? What the serpentariums needed was a letter stating it was the most reasonable possibility for snake venom to be gone, not stolen, but gone. Once it is gone, the insurance companies…”

“…Pay for the loss which funds the snake venom research …”

“… until the Congress gets the balls to demand the research funding be reinstated.”

“So you were the sacrificial calf?”

“I am so broken-hearted. I sent His Majesty,” Noonan said as he looked up toward and through the Ceiling tiles to the Throne Room of the Commissioner on the Third Floor,”a letter stating an electrical failure was most likely the cause for the missing venom.”

Harriet snickered, “And His Majesty turned it into a report to the press …”

“So,’ Noonan finished her sentence, “the insurance companies will pay for the loss, there is no police report and everyone is covered until next year when Congress comes back.”

“You are a clever man.”

“No, I’m just good at reading tea leaves. Everyone’s a winner. Even the snakes. And right now I’ll bet they are writing fang mail.”

“Ohhhh, bad joke.”

👉Learn more: https://bit.ly/3NJvjkk