‘I mean about him or his injuries.’
‘That’s what I was thinking about. Do you think one person could realistically take him from a car and drag him, alone, from the farmer’s field to the shrubbery alongside the river? I know it isn’t too far and maybe if the person was of average weight I might be convinced. I’m not. I don’t care how much iron a person is pumping at the gym, that kind of weight would be a challenge for anyone. I think two average people would struggle to carry him out of a car and drag him to where he was found.’ Jacob ran his tongue over his tooth and flinched.
‘Cause of death confirmed, strangulation. See the ligature marks on the neck?’ The pathologist held a ruler to his neck and muttered something to the CSI. She headed to the back wall and began tapping away on a calculator.
‘0.8 centimetre diameter.’ The CSI filled in a box in the chart and re-joined the pathologist.
‘Rope. See the little pinpricks where the fibres have penetrated the epidermis?’
The CSI nodded.
Gina watched as more photos were taken. A few days ago, Dale was going about his business as a plasterer, not expecting to go missing and turn up dead. What had happened since? Susan had happened. Susan had gone to his house and he hadn’t been seen alive since.
The cuts and bruises on his body appeared to be torturous now that she could see them without being surrounded in woodland. From where she was standing, it looked like he’d taken a major beating before he was dumped. The surroundings were too clinical, stark white, light, overly bright – so bright, she felt as if she needed sunglasses as her temples throbbed. Everything reflected off something else. Even if she focused on another part of the room, she’d see Dale’s reflection in something. He wasn’t just a cadaver on a slab, he was someone’s son – she had to remain connected to that. He was a person.
She glanced across at the evidence trays. His checked shirt had been bagged and labelled up.
The pathologist kept murmuring measurements, those of the wounds, areas of bruises, length of scratches and it went on. He then peered over his face mask and began taking swabs from all orifices, hair and then nails. The other CSI took those from him, bagged them and made notes as they went.
‘I’m glad I didn’t have my breakfast now,’ Jacob said as they both heard the scraping of metal on metal. The pathologist stretched his arm for a moment as he continued talking.
‘Talking about eating, how’s your tooth?’
‘A bit painful. I’m booked in for a check-up and hopefully a filling.’
Gina didn’t want to see the incision, she looked down at her chewed down fingernails, only glancing up as he came to the end. The perfect Y. The pathologist opened the chest cavity.
‘I hope we’re not here too long. We have to visit Dale’s parents soon. It’s always the worst part of the job.’
Jacob welcomed the conversation as he looked away too. It was bad enough that they could hear the organs coming out, then being weighed in the metal scales that dangled above the slab as the pathologist shouted out more numbers. ‘Yes, never a good thing, visiting the relatives, but hopefully we’ll find out more about Dale.’
‘I’m hoping they may know who he was in a relationship with.’
Gina glanced back after what seemed like a long spell of silence between her and Jacob, and she exhaled as she caught the pathologist sewing the cavity up while the others began scrubbing down.
‘We’ll have a chat with the pathologist and then get going.’ Gina smiled as he looked up, hoping to get his attention. He held his hand up indicating that he’d be five minutes.
‘Detective Harte,’ the pathologist said as he entered through the side door looking more human. He wiped his brow, shifting his fringe away from his eyes and put his glasses on as he examined the report.
‘What can you tell us?’ She smiled.
‘Definitely strangulation. We have found traces of rope in his fingernails and in the epidermis around his neck. There is dried blood around his nose and ears, which is common when the windpipe is violently compressed. The bruising on his neck also backs this up. He fought to get free from what we’ve seen. One of his fingernails is completely off and he has a broken finger.’ As he spoke, he used his arms, waving them to the beat of every word. Enthusiastically reeling off his early findings.
Gina scrunched up her nose as an image of a nail being torn from skin flashed through her mind. Of all the things Dale had been through, that would be the one she would end up rerunning in her mind.
‘As you can see, there is evidence of recent beatings. The bruising is deep. We can detect that he’s been kicked and punched, a lot. Molly has taken photos of everything. As soon as we’ve uploaded and processed them, I’ll get them emailed across.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose, waiting for her to reply.
Gina nodded slowly. ‘That would be much appreciated. What else was there?’
He cleared his throat and smiled. ‘There was also the presence of black mould in his nasal passages, the type of mould you get in really old, damp buildings. There was something else, something really sinister which is why I saved it for last.’ He clenched his shoulders, hesitating as he awaited Gina’s response.
‘Go on.’
‘We found a string of red liquorice fed down his windpipe, this was placed there post-mortem.’
‘Red liquorice?’ Now Gina’s mind was whirring. That had to be the most bizarre and unexpected thing she’d heard at a post-mortem.
‘I thought I’d seen it all,’ Jacob said as he made a note.
