POACH BUSTERS

WHO YOU GONNA CALL? A SCOTLAND YARD DETECTIVE AGENCY FOR ANIMALS

Even as the herd of elk grazed peacefully on public lands in New Mexico,
poachers were plotting a crime, finally closing in on the beasts and nabbing
more than 100 of them. Loading the elk onto trucks, they headed for Canada but
were stopped by federal agents just beyond the state line in Antonito, Colorado.

Until now, law enforcement officials would have been hardpressed to prove that
the elktheir antlers earmarked for the Asian black market-were not privately
owned ranch animals as claimed. This time, however, the officials shone
ultraviolet lights on the elk's urine. To the poachers' chagrin, the urine
glowed, the result of a harmless powder concocted by the National Fish and
Wildlife Forensics Laboratory. Park officials had dispersed the powder in hay
on state wildlands. Only elk baited off these lands, the agents reasoned, could
have eaten the treated hay.

Resulting in 20 indictments, the so-called Pee Glow case is one of the first
success stories of the forensics lab, which is quickly earning a reputation as
the Scotland Yard for animals. Run by Ken Goddard, former director of the
Huntington Beach Crime Lab, the $4.5 million laboratory in Ashland, Oregon, is
doing what 350 U.S. forensics labs do every day: link suspect, victim, and crime
with physical evidence. But while most labs solve crimes involving one
species-man-this one handles the rest of the animal kingdom. "It's like landing
on a brand-new planet," Goddard says.

The effort comes none too soon. The United States is contributing more than
ever to the estimated $2 billion illegal world wildlife market. Most often the
slaughtered animals make their way to Asia, where their parts are used as
aphrodisiacs and as antidotes to ailments including cancer and hemorrhoids. A
fresh gallbladder, for example, sells for around $500. Dried and ground, it
will bring in $1,200 an ounce. Elk antlers, believed to be most potent when
they're "in velvet," engorged with blood, fetch up to $400 an ounce.

Indeed, the lab itself attests to the grisly carnage. A mutilated tiger's head,
severed bear paws, and bags of crushed tiger bone and ivory shavings are just a
few of the specimens in this little shop of beastly horrors.

Armed with the latest technology, the lab has taken on the poachers with a
passion, using a multidisciplinary approach. The scientists start with
morphology, making identifications by comparing features like fur, hides,
feathers, or claws of confiscated animals with herd samples.

When a species can't be identified this way, muscle, blood, tissue, and soft
organs go to the serology lab, where researchers perform electrophoresis, or
protein separation. Inserted in a gel and subjected to a 200-volt electric
shock, proteins bend in patterns that can be compared with samples to determine
the species.

A new technique called a polymerase chain reaction also allows scientists to
read the genetic code in DNA samples. If deer meat, for example, is found in a
freezer in Miami, DNA fingerprinting can link the meat to a herd in Yellowstone.
The smallest sample of blood or tissue, even if found on a hunter's shirt, will
provide a positive identification. And unlike cruder techniques, DNA evidence
is indisputable in court.

The area of criminalization, however, has presented the lab with its primary
challenges-and breakthroughs. A $250,000 scanning electron microscope and a 25
cent protractor helped to break the back of the illegal ivory trade when
forensic scientists Ed Espinoza and Mary-Jacque Mann used them to differentiate
between mammoth ivory, which can be bought and sold legally, and elephant ivory,
which cannot be traded. Both ivories have what are called Schreger lines that
differ according to the species. And the research team is close to being able
to determine the ivories' age through protein degradation.

Meanwhile researchers have high hopes for another high-tech tool, the gas
chromatograph mass spectrometer, used at the Olympics to detect drug use in
athletes. The machine will make it possible to determine the chemicals and
toxins used on animals.

With such an arsenal of resources, the lab is poised to halt the grisly business
of poaching. "There's a growing sense among poachers that the easy life is
going to come to an end," Goddard says.