Read Online Born in a Burial Gown by Mike Craven - Free Book Online Page A

more than simply the cause of death. It could reveal the manner by which it was inflicted. It was covered on the SIO course, one of those modules that was fascinating and disturbing at the same time.
    Bullets entering from an angle leave an oval-shaped entrance wound. When the gun is held against the body, the wound will be round and have burn marks from the muzzle flame. Short-range shots will leave powder residue tattooed into the skin. Longer-range shots will leave no burns or powder but the hole will be smaller than the bullet calibre, due to the skin’s elastic properties. When a gun is pressed against bone and fired, the bone slows the gasses down, forcing them backwards against the skin leaving a star-shaped wound.
    Despite the dry blood and hair, the bullet hole was clearly star-shaped.
    It was also a small hole.
    This wound meant only one thing , Fluke thought. A small calibre gun pressed against the back of his victim’s head and fired. Not enough power to go straight through the head or they would have seen the exit wound. The bullet would have bounced round the inside of the skull, shredding the brain. Haemorrhaging the eyes.
    A professional killer’s weapon.
    A professional killer’s technique.
    No noise, no mess, no chance of survival.
     
    After Sowerby had carefully shaved the surrounding area and measured and photographed the wound, he shouted across to the technician, ‘Are those X-rays ready yet, boy?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Get them on the damned light board, man. Stop wasting time.’
    The technician ignored the fact he’d been shouted at unfairly and put up the slide of the head.
    There was no bullet.
    ‘I don’t understand,’ Lucy said frowning and craning forward. ‘It must be in there.’
    ‘Bullets don’t follow straight lines. It could be anywhere. Get the next slide up,’ Sowerby said.
    ‘Saw someone shot in the knee in Somalia, once. Bullet came out his arse. Funny as fuck,’ Towler said to no one in particular.
    ‘Sergeant Towler,’ Fluke said.
    ‘Boss?’
    ‘Shut it.’
    Towler grinned and winked at Lucy but didn’t say anything more.
    They found it on the third plate. In the abdomen.
    ‘There you go, Lucy. Bullet’s probably bounced off the inside of the skull, through the roof of the mouth, down the oesophagus into the stomach and into the duodenum. We’ll get it later,’ Sowerby said.
    Despite the spree killer Derek Bird skewing their statistics, Cumbria saw very little crime involving firearms. For Sowerby, who covered Manchester and Liverpool as well as Cumbria, it was routine. ‘Right, let’s get back to it,’ he said.
    After the external examination was completed, it was time for the internal. The body was turned back over, the head raised by a body block. Sowerby was going against standard routine and starting at the head rather than the body cavity. He had a probable cause of death and would move quickly to confirm it. He knew Fluke could use the extra time the shortcut would give him.
    Fluke was sure he knew what the COD and MOD would be. Cause of death would be the brain injury; manner of death would be a gunshot wound. It was more than they had that morning, although it raised more questions than it answered.
    Sowerby picked up a scalpel and made an incision behind one ear, cutting across the top of the head to behind the other ear. As if the victim had been wearing a face mask, he peeled the skin away from the skull in two directions. The front was pulled down, exposing the top of the skull and the face, the other he pulled back, exposing the rear. The skull was bloody but bare.
    Fluke knew that Sowerby would remove a wedge-shaped section of the skull to get access to the brain. He turned away not wanting to watch. Once was enough for anyone. He found he didn’t want to stay anymore.
    There was going to be some routine procedures for the next hour. He’d nip out and see if Doctor Cooper was back so he could apologise for leaving so abruptly the day