Children of the Street - страница 9
Dawson grimaced, trying not to gag. “This one is hard to take.”
“Yes, it is. Has your investigation turned up anything so far?”
“Nothing. We have no idea who he is.”
Dr. Biney turned to George, a wizened veteran of PHM and the most experienced of the mortuary attendants. “Did you see anything of interest while washing the body?”
“Please, yes, Doctor,” George said deferentially. “First thing we noticed was this.”
He held up the corpse’s right hand.
“Curious,” Dr. Biney said, stepping in to examine it. “The thumb and all fingers except the index are hacked off.”
“Fresh wounds?” Dawson asked.
“Very likely. At or around the time of death.”
Dr. Biney looked at Dawson, who turned the corners of his mouth down. “I have no idea what it means.”
“Neither do I,” Dr. Biney said. “Anything else, George?”
“Yes, Doctor,” he said, lifting the corpse’s bloated top lip.
“Missing upper right cuspid,” Dr. Biney said. He peered closer. “Looks like the whole tooth is out, not just broken off. I can’t tell how long it’s been missing, though. I’ll make a note of it on my report. Was that all, George?”
“Please, yes, Doctor.”
“Carry on, then.”
As George began the incision, Dr. Biney turned to the counter next to the sink. “We have his clothing over here, Inspector. By the way, get ready for the release of gases from the body. It won’t be pleasant.”
The clothes were dry now-a worn T-shirt and long shorts with a safety pin at the waist where buttons should have been.
“Look at this,” Biney said, carefully spreading the T-shirt out with the back facing up. “Here on the right side, a hole, slightly rectangular, and some staining around it-presumably blood.”
“Stab wound?” Dawson said.
“Ah, you’re always sharp, Inspector,” Biney said. “Stab wound is exactly what I’m surmising.”
Dawson coughed and choked as Biney’s warning about the abdominal gases materialized. Even the hardened George muttered an exclamation.
“Not for the faint of heart,” Biney said, returning to the autopsy table. Dawson followed after a moment’s hesitation.
“So what I can tell you at this point,” Biney said, as George began removing the chest plate, “is that he was fifteen to seventeen years old.”
“Fifteen to seventeen?” Dawson echoed, shocked. “Oh, that changes the whole picture. He’s a boy, really. I thought he was much older.”
“The decomposition lends that impression, but on the bone survey with our brand-new, secondhand X-ray machine, courtesy of the government of Denmark, I see nice young bones, and the epiphyses still open, so he probably had another couple of inches at least to grow.”
“Doctor,” George said, peering into the boy’s chest cavity. “Look at this.”
Biney joined him. “Goodness. Massive hemothorax. The right lung is practically swimming in blood. Suction it out, would you, George? Inspector, you’ll want to see this.”
Dawson watched as Biney removed the right lung.
“There’s a laceration on the posterior surface associated with severe disruption of the lung tissue,” he said. As Biney explored, the other attendants gathered to look on with interest.
After a minute or so, Biney said, “It’s a deep laceration, far into the tissue of the lung. Let’s examine the right posterior chest cavity. George, would you wash it out, please?”
After a couple of rinses, Biney could get a better look.
“The muscles of the fifth intercostal space are disrupted, and here you can see splintering of the sixth rib, where the weapon struck it with considerable force on the way in. Turn the body on its left side, please?”
The attendants did so, holding the corpse steady as Dr. Biney examined the back.
“Because of swelling and decay, it’s hard to spot it at first, but here is the external wound corresponding to the internal injury. See that, Inspector?”
“I do.”
“In turn, the external wound matches the tear in the victim’s shirt where the knife struck. I estimate that the blade was six to eight inches long.”
“Vicious,” Dawson murmured.
“Yes, indeed. Stab wound to the back resulting in perforation of the right lung, massive hemothorax, and death.”