Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 22

 

22.

Pathology had been in existence before the existence of God hearsay, but the specialty of the field was not defined. However, the science behind it was established even back then in the 1800s. The ones who performed the works were called mortuary technicians. The victim of a crime was called a corpse, unlike the term cadaver, which was for a body being dissected for studies.

A complete forensic autopsy includes an external examination of the body, including the examination of clothes and accessories on the body, internal examination, and collection and preservation of various material for any indicated ancillary investigations. It was to examine three main cavities of the body: cranial, thoracic, and abdominal. Sometimes, in the case of trauma, it is necessary to supplementarily open other cavities or parts of the corpse, like the spinal column, joints, and limbs. The tongue is removed during autopsy to thoroughly examine the oral cavity, access other throat structures, document any abnormalities, take tissue samples for further examination, and eliminate obstruction.

Probably that’s why dead men do not talk.

“I would not do it.” That was Victor’s outburst when told by his father to examine William’s body. “He is my brother. I cannot be … dissecting him like any cadaver.”

“He is not a cadaver. He is your brother, which was why I asked of you. I could wait for the mortician if any will turn up, but it will be … no different from the butchery works.” The Tata pleaded with the second son. “I need to know who he died. William was not the most ……. Complete child. He was a rascal at times, but he is still my son.”

“What do you want me to look for? The cause of his death? His body was bruised. It could have been a beating or a wagon rolled over him. He was …”

“He was drunk. I could smell that in his clothes. He may have been run over by a wagon, but I need to know. The family needs to know. Your family.”

That was the last exchange between the father and son before the incision of the blade. Victor wanted to work at his lab, on the same table where he created his works. He had Henry to assist, but the latter declined.

“I … I cannot do it. I …” Henry had avoided looking at William. “He was …”

Victor decided to do it by himself, and the creation of his offer to assist, but the master declined. He took the task according to the textbook. He removed the organs and measured the damages. William was drinking, and his liver was affected. He wanted to avoid examining the groin, but the wounds reached there. Whoever or whatever killed William had crushed the cervical bone. It was a hard blow or a stomp with force.

“Sexual?” Victor asked himself. He later found the gash on the head. It was not noticeable with the mud-covered body earlier, but once the body was cleaned, the gash was apparent. The width and depth caused bleeding, but it was not fatal. The parietal bone there was unaffected.

“Jaw was dislocated. Three of the front incisors are missing, and the bottom two are to the left. Two upper canines are also broken, with the left upper molars fractured.” Victor wrote down his observation. “Possible cause was a series of punches to the area.”

Victor then took to examine the blood alcohol level, which is the amount of alcohol in your blood. Alcohol, or rather ethyl alcohol or ethanol, is the intoxicating ingredient found in beer, wine, and liquor. When you drink it, the stomach and small intestines rapidly absorb the alcohol and enter it into your bloodstream. Alcohol is a toxin to your body, and the liver then metabolizes the alcohol to filter it out of your blood. Intoxication happens when you are faster than what the liver processes then. The effect was drunkenness.

The liver is your largest internal organ and sits just under the ribs on the upper right-hand side of your abdomen. Like the heart and other organs, it performs multiple functions, including processing nutrients from food, storing energy, making bile to help with the digestion of dietary fats, filtering toxic chemicals and bacteria from the body, helping with blood clotting, and processing medicines. Added to that, it also helps to break down alcohol.

“William, you have fatty liver there.” Victor sighed.

William shattered bones beside the cervical: the left humerus (the long bone from the shoulder to the elbow), the left anteriorly, the clavicle articulates with the sternum, thereby attaching the upper limb to the axial skeleton, and the ribs on the left side; twelve was the number. Contrary to a widely held misconception, men and women have the same number of ribs. The damaged ribs were four before the heart. One of the damaged ribs, the second true rib, as it was named, had pierced the heart’s right atrium and caused internal bleeding. The damaged part bled. There were other damaged bones, but the cause of death was that.

“Heart failure caused by the bleeding at the right atrium.”

The death of William Frankenstein was gossiped about by many in the village and at the lady’s dorm of the Uni. Justine Moritz had stayed in her chamber, refusing to see anyone or step to the work lab. It was already the third day since William was found.

“No, I did ….” Justine held up her knees with her arms on the bedding. She was still in the dressing gown worn that night. “I did not ….”

She heard the door knock then.

“Go away! I am unwell.” Justine called out. “Leave me be.”

“Ms. Moritz, I am Chief Constable Lestrade. I need to talk to you.” The voice replied. “Please let me come in.”

“I … I am not dressed. Give me a minute.” Justine looked around the chamber. All was as before, her clothes strewn around, and the work notes were on the study table. Nothing was out of place.

“Nothing …” Justine recalled the jug. She bent down to check the rugs. There were some cracked pieces, which she collected and had thrown into the waste bin. It was still there. She went to look for its missing. It was not possible. She was sure she left it there, but it was missing. Did someone come into the chamber when she was looking for William? She was unsure, and the banging on the door resumed.

“Hello, who are you?” Justine opened the door. She saw then that he was the one who introduced himself as the inspector.

“I was Detective Sergeant Adam Gregory Lestrade, and I just got my letter of confirmation this week. Everyone calls me Greg or Detective Lestrade. Pardon me, ma’am. Chief Constable Lestrade now.” The officer was young, held a declining hairline on the forehead complemented by thick sideburns, and was trying to impress the younger lady with his seniority.

“Greg was my mother’s choice of name for Adam, which was my father’s choice, and I have them now. Adam Greg Lestrade.”

“Pardon me, but may I know the purpose of the visit? I am unwell.” Justine kept the man at the doorway.

“Some questions, ma’am.” Chief Constable Lestrade took on his formal approach. “I was told…. That you are… pardon me, were with William Frankenstein two nights ago.”

Justine did not reply.

“May I come in, please? It is rather inconvenient to conduct a conversation here. I have the matron of the dorm to chaperone you.” Chief Constable Lestrade stepped aside to show the other person there. Madame or Mrs. Holmes, whichever misdeeds you may have done, was the matron who governed the dorm there. She was ever vigilant on the visitors at any hour and complained if your lingerie was in full display at the drying wires. She was nicknamed the Terrier Bitch by the patrons for her matronly attitudes. Gossip does not stop at her but rather comes from her; her other name was the Ghostly Gossip.

“May we?” The bitch spoke. Justine stepped aside to let the two of them in. She closed the door on their entry.

“May we know if you knew William Frankenstein?” Chief Constable Lestrade held more biceps than grey cells inside his head. “Oh, did you hurt your face?”

“Yes, I did. I had a fall last night while getting to the…. Getting out of bed.” Justine reached up to the bruise on her left face. “Yes, I did. The Frankenstein mansion. I used to live in there as a guest.” Justine narrated her social life with the Frankenstein. “The uni had no chambers for me. They were all taken up then. I met Victor, and he offered me the place there. His father did not object.”

“On William Frankenstein? I was told that he was here two nights ago.”

“Yes, Inspector. He must have snuck in that night.” Justine nodded. Obviously, the bulldog was lazy or given some coins to open the door, a statement she did not tell.

“Yes, we were …” Chief Constable Lestrade corrected himself. “I was told that he was here. There was some shouting then. Why was that?”

“The man was in my chamber at night. This was supposed to be a lady’s dorm. And he was there.” Justine looked at the matron. “He must have been braver than Robin Hood to sneak in when the sheriff was to stop anyone…”

“Ms. Moritz, I can assure you the doors were locked, and I … I have no idea how he did. He may have climbed in by the window. Your chamber is on the ground level.” The matron was there to defend her turd.

“Obviously.” Justine snapped back. “Just like the boys who peek at us when we hang our underwear then. Obviously, they do not on you, for yours could slip through their heads if worn.”

“Mrs. Moritz!” The matron was in rage.

“Ms. Moritz, I was told that you pursued him after the shouting. The other ladies told me you rushed out. You were holding a jug.” Chief Constable Lestrade stepped in.

“I did. William was hurt. He hit himself on the table, and the jug fell on his head. He was bleeding, and I wanted to … help him. I could not find it thereafter. I returned here then to my chamber.”

“I see that. And since then, you have not been out?” Chief Constable Lestrade, he asked.

“I did the next morning at my work lab, but on the way, I was told that William was found dead. I was shocked by the news and returned here. I have been here since.”

“You did not go to the Frankenstein’s house?” Chief Constable Lestrade, he asked. “You were their guest before.”

“No, I did not. I was unwell since then.” Justine said.

“Are those blood stains on your gown?” Chief Constable Lestrade indicated to the gown.

“Oh, I am having my… monthly bouts. I have not reached my menopause symptoms.” Justine glared at the matron.

“Pardon me, ma’am. I was ……. I will be leaving now. Thank you, Ms. Moritz, and do rest.” Chief Constable Lestrade took to the doorway. “May I use your waste bin? I have some papers to throw.”