Reprobate: A Katla Novel by Halm Martyn V

Author:Halm, Martyn V. [Halm, Martyn V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Suspense, Crime
Amazon: B0094VD7JW
Goodreads: 16165580
Publisher: Pushdagger Publishing Limited
Published: 2012-09-01T07:00:00+00:00

AUTOPSY

Outwardly composed, Deborah entered the spacious lobby of the VU Ziekenhuis for the autopsies, but the bounce in her step was difficult to suppress. She couldn’t help it. The stilted science of dissection and deduction appealed to her. Ordinary people viewed post-mortem examinations as gruesome affairs and even law enforcement officers often avoided actual attendance, but their judgment was based from a distant view, which was the last thing you wanted to do at an autopsy. From a distance any autopsy looked like the cutting up of a slice of beef, but up-close the mystery unfolded and gave clues to fit together the puzzle of death.

Before Bishop arrived at the crime scene late last evening Creaux had taken her aside and asked her to attend the first autopsies in his place, until he would relieve her. Knowing James, he would drop by around four or five in the afternoon, to see as little as possible of the actual dissecting.

The receptionist told her how to get to the mortuary. She followed the signs to the Pathology wing and took the stairs two flights down to the sub-basement where a pathology assistant or ‘diener’ led her through a clinical examination room to a room in the rear where the forensic autopsies were conducted.

A transistor radio on the steel counter played muted Arabic music that drifted over the female photographer and the three men—two pathologists and a diener—moving around the corpse. Menendez was stretched out on the stainless steel dissecting table with raised edges, tilted slightly to collect fluids in the drains near his feet. A rubber body block under the spine lifted the upper body for easier access to the chest cavity, and over the corpse hovered a tray with dissecting tools hung from a rail, next to a water hose. A lightbox on the wall illuminated several X-rays whose sharp definition hinted at a radiation level that would make a living person glow in the dark.

The two detectives she’d met at the hotel, Heymans and Gerrits, stood on a slightly elevated platform that provided a better view for onlookers, while maintaining the proper distance from the proceedings. Only the young detective, Jeroen Gerrits, looked up from his notes, but the other people in the room were too focused on their work to acknowledge her entrance.

The junior pathologist had just sawn through the ribs and removed the chest plate, to expose the organs. As Deborah approached the platform, the junior pathologist placed the chest plate on a dissecting table and expertly opened the pericardial sac to view the heart.

At the head of the table, the senior pathologist, an olive-skinned man with short grey hair, propped his hand under the neck of the corpse. In the harsh lights, the Colombian Necktie looked even more grotesque. With his forceps the pathologist lifted the tongue to study the deep gash across the throat, while the photographer took pictures. Deborah halted next to Gerrits, and watched the senior pathologist pull back the edge of the gash

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