Линда Ла Плант - Unholy Murder

‘It’s what you didn’t do.’ She touched her face where the mud had been.

‘Sorry, I thought you were going straight back to the station.’

‘You’re lucky I saw the funny side of it,’ she said, half-smiling. ‘But remember, revenge is a dish best served cold.’

‘Right, let’s get started,’ Dr Pullen said as she entered the room, now wearing protective clothing and carrying a clipboard and pen. ‘I just need everyone’s names for the records, please.’

Boon’s eyes lit up. ‘Nice-looking for a mortuary technician,’ he whispered to Jane.

‘PC Rogers, Jack the mortuary technician and DS Tennison I already know.’ Pullen looked at Boon. ‘And you are...?’

Boon who was still admiring Pullen’s figure didn’t hear her question. Jane nudged him with her elbow. He stood straighter, and puffed out his chest.

‘Detective Constable Simon Boon, Bromley CID. I accompanied the coffin from the building site to the mortuary. I am also assisting DS Tennison with this case and will perform the role of exhibits officer.’

‘Good for you, Simon,’ Pullen said with a wry smile.

‘May I say how refreshing it is to meet a lady mortuary technician,’ he said. ‘You must have a strong stomach for this job.’

‘I’m not a mortuary technician,’ she said, still smiling.

Boon looked confused. ‘Oh... are you a coroner’s officer?’

‘No. I’m Dr Samantha Pullen, a forensic pathologist.’

Boon flushed and mumbled an apology.

‘I’m so sorry, doctor... I didn’t realise... I was expecting a man... I mean Professor Martin.’

‘I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations, DC Boon,’ she said, not smiling anymore.

Pullen put her clipboard down on a work surface then picked up a mortuary hammer and chisel. She looked at Boon with a steely expression. ‘These should do.’

‘Do for what?’ he asked nervously.

‘Opening the coffin.’

As Dr Pullen lowered the examination table, Boon whispered to Jane, ‘Why didn’t you tell me she was the pathologist?’

‘Remember what I said about revenge,’ Jane replied. ‘And by the way, your chat-up lines are awful.’

‘Was it that obvious?’

‘Blindingly!’

‘Right, let’s unseal this coffin,’ Pullen said.

‘What’s it sealed with?’ Boon asked Pullen, but Rogers answered.

‘Metal coffins are normally sealed with a rubber gasket that goes all the way around the edge of the lid. The sealing clasps then lock the lid in place.’ He pointed to one. ‘And the rubber gasket forms a tight seal that prevents air and moisture from getting in.’

‘So, if there’s a body in there it might be in good condition?’ Boon asked.

‘Not necessarily,’ Pullen said. ‘Sealing a casket won’t prevent a body from decomposing, even if it’s been embalmed.’

Pullen undid the clasps, then put the chisel in between the two halves and gave it a knock with the hammer. To her surprise, the chisel slid in easily. ‘Looks like the rubber seal has degraded.’ She pushed the handle of the chisel down, and the top of the coffin started to open. ‘Although it may be heavier than it looks, I think this lid will come off fairly easily.’ She looked at PC Rogers and Boon. ‘Can you give us a hand to lift it off, please? The protective gloves are over there.’

Boon was worried about his clothes. ‘Have you got a spare overall?’

Jane frowned. ‘I’ll help,’ she said, putting on a pair of latex gloves.

They stood round the coffin, one at each end and two in the middle, waiting for Pullen’s order.

‘One, two, three... lift.’

Boon inched forward, eager to see what was inside as they put the lid on the mortuary floor.

‘Jesus, that stinks of rancid cheese!’ Boon exclaimed, putting his hand to his mouth and starting to retch.

‘Don’t be so squeamish, it’s just a dead body,’ Rogers scoffed.

‘Dead bodies don’t bother me, I just hate cheese!’ Boon retched again.

‘If you’re going to be sick, do it in the sink,’ barked a stern-faced Rogers.

Jane thought it strange the body didn’t smell of decay and rotting flesh as she’d expected. The face looked gruesome, yet fascinating. The skin was shrivelled and cracked, with a chalky white, almost yellowish colour to it with flecks of grey. There were empty sockets where the eyes had once been, but the mouth was eerily wide open revealing an intact set of teeth. The cracked and shrivelled hands were clasped together. A rosary with a small wooden cross was wrapped around the right hand.

Parts of the clothing were disintegrating and discoloured, but it was clear the body was dressed in a black ankle-length gown and black lace-up shoes. A black veil covered the head and shoulders, with a stiff white wimple under it. The wimple was tight under the chin and hung in a semi-circle below the neck. Tied around the waist was a brown cord with tassels on each end. The interior of the coffin was lined with satin, which was now covered in mildew and a dirty grey colour.

‘It looks like the body of a nun from the clothing,’ Jane remarked.

Pullen nodded. ‘I agree, though I will have to confirm it by further examination.’

Boon laughed. ‘Imagine if...’

‘Imagine what?’ Jane asked.

‘Imagine if it turned out to be a transvestite priest! That would raise a few eyebrows at the Vatican,’ Boon grinned. ‘Then again, maybe not.’

‘I expected a corpse that would be badly decomposed, but in fact the face and hands look almost mummified,’ Jane remarked.

Pullen was about to explain the phenomenon when a smug-looking PC Rogers interjected.

‘It’s due to adipocere on the body, which can occur in sealed coffins when no air can get in.’

Pullen picked up her clipboard and pen. ‘That’s a very astute observation, especially as it’s a condition that’s quite rare to observe.’

‘I have an excellent memory, Dr Pullen,’ Rogers replied pompously. ‘I first observed adipocere a few years ago, in a case Professor Martin was dealing with.’

‘What’s adipocere?’ Boon asked.

Pullen explained. ‘Adipocere is Latin for fat wax... adipo , meaning fat, and cire , wax, though pathologists generally refer to it as grave or corpse wax. Although rare, you are more likely to find it on females and the obese, due to their higher fat content.’ She looked at Jane. ‘Adipocere looks similar to mummified flesh, but it’s actually quite different and varies in colour from dirty white to light brown or grey. It’s also what causes that rancid cheesy smell DC Boon dislikes so much.’

‘What causes the adipocere to form?’ Jane asked.

‘Basically, after death, fat tissue in a corpse starts to break down. Bacterial enzymes from the intestine and the environment convert unsaturated liquid fats to saturated solid fats, which causes the development of a soft waxy, soap-like material on the body. Adipocere acts as a barrier against the usual process of decomposition and in turn preserves features of the body.’

‘But the hands look dry and shrivelled, not waxy or soapy,’ Boon observed.

‘Recent adipocere tends to be white, yellow or reddish brown. The older it is, the greyer and more solid it will become... as on this body. We’ll need to be careful when we remove it as dried adipocere can crumble and split.’

Jane was pleased Pullen described the condition of the body in layman’s terms, unlike Professor Martin who, she knew from experience, loved to play to the gallery during a post-mortem and use obscure medical jargon.

Pullen crouched down and looked at the rim of the coffin. ‘I think this coffin’s been opened recently.’

‘How can you tell?’ Jane asked.