A small stumpy man entered the room carrying a clipboard and paper. He was in his fifties, with grey thinning hair and half-moon glasses perched unsteadily on the end of his bulbous red nose.
Jane observed that his green mortuary gown and black wellington boots were stained with blood and body tissue, and deduced that he must be the pathologist. The two morticians slid Julie Ann’s shrouded body from the trolley onto the table.
‘Try and keep your fag ash off my instruments today, DCI Bradfield. DS Lawrence, you’re doing exhibits and photographs, I take it?’ the po-faced Professor Martin said as he wrote their names in his notes. He turned towards Jane, lowered his head and peered over the top of his glasses. ‘And you, young lady, are…?’
‘Probationary WPC 517 Golf Hotel Tennison, on B Relief Hackney, sir.’
Martin sighed. ‘This is a mortuary, not a courtroom – I can see you are a WPC and an unusually pretty one… name and number is all I require. I’m Professor Dean Martin, and not to be confused with the crooner.’
Seeing Jane staring at the red spider-web marks on the Professor’s face, DS Lawrence leant towards her and whispered, ‘He drinks like Dean Martin though… that’s what too much whisky does to your skin.’
Professor Martin put a black-rubber apron over his gown and pulled on some green-rubber gauntlet gloves. The apron had two metal link-chains at the neck and waist to hold it in place.
‘I wasn’t needed in court this morning so I’ve already done my external examination of the body. Gather round, please,’ Martin said as he moved towards the body and then, like a magician, pulled off the shroud in a theatrical flurry to display the naked girl.
Jane gave a sharp intake of breath. Julie Ann’s body was alabaster white, stretched out with her hands placed at her sides. DS Lawrence got a camera out of his kit bag and took some photographs.
Martin looked at Jane as he spoke. ‘Time of death is the question most consistently asked by detectives in murder investigations. However, due to many variables, it is extremely difficult to determine, and can never be one hundred per cent accurate.’ He flicked over a page on his clipboard.
‘He’s showboating for her benefit,’ Jane heard Bradfield mutter to DS Lawrence.
‘So, as to time of death for little missy here: the body was found at 9 a.m. in the open. Livor mortis, which is due to the settling of the blood after death, was well developed, thus indicating the victim had been in the same position for six to twelve hours. At the scene at 10.30 a.m., I took vaginal swabs and a rectal temperature. I have considered the overnight external air temperature, which in turn influences the rate of heat loss from the body and affects the onset of rigor-’
Bradfield sighed. ‘Can we just have it in layman’s terms, Prof?’
Martin puffed out his chest indignantly. ‘By my calculations she was killed on Sunday the 13th of May sometime between 6 p.m. and midnight.’
‘It didn’t get dark until just after eight and it’s unlikely she was killed outside in broad daylight,’ DS Lawrence remarked.
‘Do you think she was killed at the playground, or elsewhere?’ Bradfield asked Martin.
‘I don’t know, it’s impossible for me to say.’
‘She could have been murdered indoors somewhere nearby, carried on foot in the early hours and dumped,’ DS Lawrence speculated.
‘OK, Sherlock, how’s that explain her bra still being round her neck?’
Martin spoke before Lawrence could answer. ‘It was tied in a double knot and so tightly neither I nor DS Lawrence could unpick it at the scene. In the end I had to cut it free with some scissors.’
DS Lawrence removed the bra from the paper bag and showed it to DCI Bradfield so he could see the knot for himself. He then removed the blouse and laid it on top of the bag.
‘The two upper buttons on the blouse are missing and they weren’t found at the scene.’
‘They could have come off at any time, even accidentally,’ Bradfield said.
Lawrence pointed to the chest area of the blouse. ‘There’s tear damage where the buttons were, which suggests a struggle.’
Jane stepped forward so she could get a better look at the bra.
‘Excuse me, sir, but the bra’s strapless, so he could have removed it at the scene while she still had the shirt on during a bit of foreplay.’
There was a sudden silence in the room as all three men looked at each other and Jane thought she was about to get a dressing down.
DS Lawrence glanced at Bradfield, nodded at him and whispered, ‘It’s a good point.’
Professor Martin tapped his clipboard with his pen to get their attention.
‘We’re going round in circles and the fact is I have to consider both possibilities: was she murdered at the scene, or dumped there? Now can we get on with the postmortem, please?’
Professor Martin peered down at his clipboard as he walked round the table to Julie Ann’s left side. ‘I have had a close look using a magnifying glass and cannot find any hypodermic needle marks that appear to be recent.’
