Read Online Whispers of the Dead by Simon Beckett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon Beckett
Ads: Link
decomposed
bodies such as this, the victim's identity and sometimes also the cause
of death could be gleaned from the skeleton itself. Before that could
be done, though, every last trace of soft tissue had to be removed.
It wasn't a pleasant job.
When I went back to the autopsy suite I paused outside. I could hear
Tom humming along to the jazz over the sound of running water. What if you make another mistake? What if you can't do this any more?
But I couldn't afford to think like that. I opened the door and
went in. Kyle had finished hosing down the body. Dripping water,
the dead man's remains glistened as though they had been varnished.
Tom was at a trolley of surgical instruments. He picked up a pair
of tissue scissors and pulled the bright overhead light closer as I went
over.
'OK, let's make a start.'
The first dead body I saw was when I was a student. It was a young
woman, no more than twenty-five or six, who had been killed in a
house fire. She'd asphyxiated from the smoke, but her body was
untouched by the flames. She was lying on a cold table under the
mortuary's harsh, revealing light. Her eyes were partly open, slits of
dull white showing between the lids, and the tip of her tongue was
protruding ever so slightly from between bloodless lips. What struck
me was how still she looked. As frozen and motionless as a photograph.
Everything she'd done, everything she'd been and hoped to
be, had come to an end. For ever.
The realization hit me with physical force. I knew then that no
matter what I did, how much I learned, there would always be one
mystery I couldn't explain. But in the years that followed that only
increased my determination to solve the more tangible puzzles that
lay within my scope.
Then Kara and Alice, my wife and six-year-old daughter, were
killed in a car accident. And suddenly such things were no longer
academic.
For a time I'd retreated to my original profession of medical
doctor, believing that way might bring a measure of peace, if not
answers. But I'd only been fooling myself. As Jenny and I had found
out to our cost, I couldn't run away from my work. It was what I did,
what I was. Or so I'd thought until I'd had a knife thrust into my
stomach.
Now I wasn't sure of anything any more.
I tried to put the doubts aside as I worked on the victim's remains.
After collecting tissue and fluid samples to send for analysis, I used a
scalpel to carefully cut away the muscle, cartilage and internal organs,
literally stripping the last vestiges of humanity from the body.
Whoever it was, he'd been a big man. We'd need to take more
accurate measurements from the skeleton itself, but he was at least six
two, and heavily boned.
Not an easy man to overpower.
We worked in near silence, Tom humming absently along to a
Dina Washington CD as Kyle wound up the hose and busied himself
cleaning the tray where the insects and other detritus from the body
were caught after being washed off. I'd begun to lose myself in the
work when the double doors to the autopsy suite abruptly swung
open.
It was Hicks.
'Morning, Donald,' Tom greeted him pleasantly. 'To what do we
owe this pleasure?'
The pathologist didn't bother to reply. The dome of his hairless
head gleamed like marble under the bright lights as he glared at
Kyle.
'The hell are you doing in here, Webster? I've been looking for
you.'
Kyle flushed. 'I was just--'
'He's just finishing up,'Tom put in smoothly.'I asked him to help
out. Dan Gardner wants a report on this as soon as possible. Unless
you have any objection?'
Hicks could hardly admit to it if he had. He turned his ire on Kyle
again. 'I've got an autopsy this morning. Is the suite ready?'
'Uh, no, but I asked Jason to--'
'I told you to do it, not Jason. I'm sure Dr Lieberman and his assistant can manage by themselves while you do what you're paid
for.'
It took a second or two to realize he meant me. Tom gave him a
thin smile. 'I'm sure we can.'
bodies such as this, the victim's identity and sometimes also the cause
of death could be gleaned from the skeleton itself. Before that could
be done, though, every last trace of soft tissue had to be removed.
It wasn't a pleasant job.
When I went back to the autopsy suite I paused outside. I could hear
Tom humming along to the jazz over the sound of running water. What if you make another mistake? What if you can't do this any more?
But I couldn't afford to think like that. I opened the door and
went in. Kyle had finished hosing down the body. Dripping water,
the dead man's remains glistened as though they had been varnished.
Tom was at a trolley of surgical instruments. He picked up a pair
of tissue scissors and pulled the bright overhead light closer as I went
over.
'OK, let's make a start.'
The first dead body I saw was when I was a student. It was a young
woman, no more than twenty-five or six, who had been killed in a
house fire. She'd asphyxiated from the smoke, but her body was
untouched by the flames. She was lying on a cold table under the
mortuary's harsh, revealing light. Her eyes were partly open, slits of
dull white showing between the lids, and the tip of her tongue was
protruding ever so slightly from between bloodless lips. What struck
me was how still she looked. As frozen and motionless as a photograph.
Everything she'd done, everything she'd been and hoped to
be, had come to an end. For ever.
The realization hit me with physical force. I knew then that no
matter what I did, how much I learned, there would always be one
mystery I couldn't explain. But in the years that followed that only
increased my determination to solve the more tangible puzzles that
lay within my scope.
Then Kara and Alice, my wife and six-year-old daughter, were
killed in a car accident. And suddenly such things were no longer
academic.
For a time I'd retreated to my original profession of medical
doctor, believing that way might bring a measure of peace, if not
answers. But I'd only been fooling myself. As Jenny and I had found
out to our cost, I couldn't run away from my work. It was what I did,
what I was. Or so I'd thought until I'd had a knife thrust into my
stomach.
Now I wasn't sure of anything any more.
I tried to put the doubts aside as I worked on the victim's remains.
After collecting tissue and fluid samples to send for analysis, I used a
scalpel to carefully cut away the muscle, cartilage and internal organs,
literally stripping the last vestiges of humanity from the body.
Whoever it was, he'd been a big man. We'd need to take more
accurate measurements from the skeleton itself, but he was at least six
two, and heavily boned.
Not an easy man to overpower.
We worked in near silence, Tom humming absently along to a
Dina Washington CD as Kyle wound up the hose and busied himself
cleaning the tray where the insects and other detritus from the body
were caught after being washed off. I'd begun to lose myself in the
work when the double doors to the autopsy suite abruptly swung
open.
It was Hicks.
'Morning, Donald,' Tom greeted him pleasantly. 'To what do we
owe this pleasure?'
The pathologist didn't bother to reply. The dome of his hairless
head gleamed like marble under the bright lights as he glared at
Kyle.
'The hell are you doing in here, Webster? I've been looking for
you.'
Kyle flushed. 'I was just--'
'He's just finishing up,'Tom put in smoothly.'I asked him to help
out. Dan Gardner wants a report on this as soon as possible. Unless
you have any objection?'
Hicks could hardly admit to it if he had. He turned his ire on Kyle
again. 'I've got an autopsy this morning. Is the suite ready?'
'Uh, no, but I asked Jason to--'
'I told you to do it, not Jason. I'm sure Dr Lieberman and his assistant can manage by themselves while you do what you're paid
for.'
It took a second or two to realize he meant me. Tom gave him a
thin smile. 'I'm sure we can.'
Similar Books
