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Mortuary
FSS Lambeth
The lunch-hour wouldn’t ordinarily be the first choice for most pathologists when it came to autopsy, but for Chief Forensic Pathologist Diana Monaghan it was ideal. Low traffic through the labs and rooms, the quiet... And under the circumstances, she wanted to keep eyes and ears in the area to a minimum.
Monaghan finished adjusting her gloves and pulled back the plastic curtain, closing it back quickly behind her. The smell of the chemicals, and of death, assailed her nose immediately, and even with her mask in place it took a moment to adjust to it. The bodies went into cold storage as quickly as possible, slowing the decomposition not only to preserve evidence, but to limit the odor and fluids that the process of decomp produced. Limit, but unfortunately not completely eliminate.
Strictly speaking, this wasn’t the main event... She would need an assistant for that, and currently the bulk of her staff on shift was otherwise occupied, most at lunch, a couple on paperwork, and Maurice cleaning up the table at the far end of the room. Monaghan closed her eyes briefly, center herself, quieting her mind so she could focus.
She’d opted to start with Newcastle. His body had been in cold storage for the shortest amount of time, but his wounds had been treated, and she needed to differentiate between damage and repair as quickly as possible. She carefully examined the bullet holes in his abdomen. Two had exited through his back, with one nicking his spine. The third had fractured the liver and lodged in his back-muscle tissue near the hip bone. The liver wound had been the reason for surgery, and ultimately the cause of death, though the surgery itself had been successful. Monaghan had witnessed a few deaths resulting from DIC in the years prior to her entering the Forensic Science Service. Both as a trauma surgeon in the Navy, and during a term working A&E, Monaghan had witnessed victims of massive chest trauma, even birthing mothers, suffer from the condition, their body’s coagulation process going to extremes in both directions resulting in organ damage and uncontrolled bleeding. To have a patient survive a major surgery successfully, or give birth, only to have them die a few hours later was something you simply don’t forget.
Monaghan shivered slightly at the memory and returned her attention to Newcastle’s body. If she hadn’t known he was former military, the tattoos would have told the story. She noted the ones on his arm and chest, and the one on his back she had seen when he was rolled on to the table. There was one, a small heart with the name “Jess” inside... Likely his wife, Monaghan thought as she marked its placement on the chart, feeling a twinge of sadness for this young sergeant, husband and father cut down in his prime.
She noted the time on the chart and indicated the time scheduled for the full autopsy tomorrow morning, then rezipped the bag and covered the body again.
Monaghan glanced at the time again. She’d have about thirty minutes before the troops returned. Time to take a preliminary look at Corbett. Monaghan stepped out from behind the curtain surrounding Newcastle.
“Not my idea of a great lunch hour.”
Monaghan looked up quickly at the speaker, and smiled. “Not mine either, Kate. But I wanted a look before the big show, so to speak.”
Kate nodded, her eyes roaming around the cold room. It wasn’t just the temperature that was chill. The white ceiling and wall finishes coupled with the sterile metal fixtures throughout the room made for a thoroughly chilling experience. The most colorful things in the room were the black-speckled floor tiles. “So, you have causes of death? Well, other than the obvious gunshot wounds.”
“For Newcastle, cause of death was secondary to his injuries. DIC while recovering from surgery.” She sighed as she removed one set of gloves and grabbed a fresh pair. “If he had lived, he most likely would have been paralyzed. One of the first shots nicked his spinal cord.”
Kate grimaced at that. “For some, that would be worse than death.”
Monaghan frowned lightly. “For some, yes.” Her frown faded back into a smile. “What are you doing here on your lunch hour?”
“Uh... same...” Kate chuckled. “Trying to find answers to questions when I’m not entirely sure what the questions are.” She glanced at the second curtained area holding Corbett’s body. Her mouth worked, trying to form the words, before she suddenly said, “Can I see Corbett?”
Monaghan hesitated. “Kate... he’s... not in a good state.”
“I know.”
“I mean... his head is...” Monaghan lowered her voice. “Blown off.”
“I know. I’ve seen worse, Diana. And I need to see him.”
Monaghan hesitated a moment longer, studying the face of the young woman leaning in the doorway. Looks could certainly be deceiving, and none more so than when it came to this slight young woman. Monaghan had only known her for a couple of months, but Kate Gardener had proved herself of much stronger fabric than most women, and men, that Monaghan knew. She nodded her assent, and gestured to the cabinet containing the coveralls, shoe covers and masks. “Alright, then... suit up.”
Moments later, the two women stood within the plastic curtains on either side of the bagged body of DS Robson “Robbie” Corbett. Monaghan had logged the time, and made a notation that Kate was present, but she hesitated as she reached for the zipper. “You’re sure?”
Kate stared at the body for a moment, then looked up at Monaghan, her gaze firm and fixed as she answered. “Positive. Open him up... well, the bag. I have to draw the line at chest cracking.” Monaghan chuckled at the young woman’s “gallows humor”, and proceeded to unzip the bag.
Even though the body had been on ice for a while, longer than Newcastle, the smell of death, sweet and metallic, wafted out as the bag was open. Monaghan saw Kate grimace, but she recovered quickly, her lips pressed firmly together as she swallowed and shook it off. She gave Monaghan a reassuring nod. Monaghan continued to unzip the bag down to just above his navel. It really needn’t have been that far, as the concentration of injuries were all around the head. Or at least what was left of it.
To call the injury to the head severe would be a massive understatement. The right posterior portion of the head, including skull and brain matter, had literally been blown off by the force of the shot. Kate leaned forward slightly, peering down into the wound that was remarkably clear and clean of debris and excessive clotting. At least a third of the brain tissue, cerebral and cerebellar, was completely gone.
“That is some serious damage,” Kate said, leaning even farther over to bring her face as close as possible, her gloved finger hovering just above the edges of the wound. “You can see how the initial impact shattered the parietal and occipital bones.” She leaned back and let out the breath she’d been holding with a whoosh. “Well... this was not a boating accident.”
Monaghan smiled. “No. It most certainly was not.” She pointed to the front of the head. “The exit wound was nearly obliterated by the force of the impact behind it, but based on the angle we can see, the shooter had to have been in an elevated position, shooting down at about a thirty-five-degree angle. At least, that is my best estimation. Hagen has requested a full ballistics analysis of the crime scene. They’re waiting on my measurements of the wound track and angle of entry to begin.”
“It was definitely a high-powered gun,” Kate remarked, frowning as she looked at the presumed exit area under the chin. “How is it that average citizens are running around with this type of weapon over here, but the public is uncomfortable with cops carrying a sidearm?”
Monaghan pursed her lips. “Most of the time, it isn’t necessary for a police officer to be armed. Constables certainly don’t need them, and having so many officers carrying them could lead to accidents... Stress and nerves in a tense situation resulting in an unnecessary use of force.”
“True.” Kate stepped back from the body. “Of course, more people die from car accidents than gunshot wounds... and we haven’t taken anyone’s cars away yet.” She shrugged. “Just seems silly to me. I’d feel better knowing Sergeant Pierce had a gun on the street than whoever did,” she gestured to the body. “This.”
“Sergeant Pierce having a gun is something I can definitely agree with,” Monaghan replied with a smile. “And whoever took this shot... is as gifted a marksman as he is. That is truly frightening.” She reached for the zipper, and started to pull it up. “Oh, are you done?”
Kate nodded in reply, and Monaghan finished pulling the zipper up, slowing as she went over the head so as not to catch the edged of the wound in the zipper track. She grabbed the file, noting the time scheduled for Corbett’s full autopsy early the next morning, then turned to Kate. The young woman’s forehead was creased with a frown, her eyes narrowed. She seemed to be thinking deeply, and not enjoying the thoughts at all.
“What’s wrong?”
“That is the question,” Kate replied. “Hagen and Pierce are going to talk to the cop that’s still alive in the morning.”
“Marshall. Yes, his wounds were fairly mild.”
“Yeah. Weird, huh?” Kate closed her eyes, her head cocking to the side as she continued. “You’ve got three cops in the courtyard, two of them shot with high precision and the intent to kill, and the third gets shot in the thigh and the shoulder...completely survivable injuries even at their worst.” She opened her eyes, fixing her gaze on Monaghan. “What, did he just suddenly become not good at shooting anymore? Or...?”
Monaghan nodded slowly, the import of what Kate was saying sinking in. “Or... he was trying to kill those two...and not the third.”
“Bingo.” Kate stripped off her gloves and coveralls, wadding them into a ball and depositing them in the designated waste bin. “So, the question is... why did the shooter not want to kill what’s his face... Marshall?”
Monaghan paused while removing her own coveralls, concern filling her eyes and folding her forehead into a frown. “Whatever way you look at it, it isn’t good.”
Kate shook her head. “Nope, ‘cause either way you look at it, Newcastle and Corbett weren’t just murdered. They were targeted. This was a hit.”