Free Grave Situation by Alex MacLean Page A

lips.
    “Rigor has now set in the jaw,” he
said. “The neck is symmetrical. The trachea is in the midline. No
signs of injury to either.”
    He moved down the front of the
torso to the legs. After finding nothing remarkable, Coulter
studied the palms and fingers.
    “Signs of rigor in the extremities
as well,” he noted. “Nothing to indicate the victim put up much of
a fight. No defensive wounds to the hands, the flexor surface or
the ulnar aspects of the forearms.
    “There are impact abrasions to the
palmar surface of both hands. I attribute this to the pavement
after the victim had probably put out his hands to break his
fall.”
    With Sodero’s help, he turned the
body over to examine the wound in the back.
    “The blade entered the body
vertically on the right side of the spinal column just missing the
medial border of the scapula. Both the top and bottom margins of
the wound are squared off.” Coulter leaned closer, eyes narrowing.
“There is also a guard mark at the top of the wound, but none at
the bottom. The thrust of the weapon came at a downward
angle.”
    Carefully, he measured the margins
of the wound and then the depth of the track. “I can approximate
the length of the blade to be about six inches. Not so sure about
the shape of the blade however. The elasticity of the skin can
actually distort the wound so that it doesn’t resemble the blade at
all.”
    Sodero placed a scale beside the
wound and photographed it several times.
    “The rest of the external
investigation is unremarkable,” Coulter said. “There are no
bruises, marks or other trauma anywhere else on the
body.”
    He clipped the fingernails and
packaged them. Then he took fingerprints. As he filled out the
print cards, Sodero transferred the body to a metal gurney and
covered it with a sheet. Coulter then wheeled the body into an
adjacent room to be x-rayed.
    Allan took out his notepad and
jotted down the details about the knife. Sodero brought him over a
plastic apron.
    “You might want to wear this,
Lieutenant,” he told him.
    “Thanks, Lawrence.”
    “No problem.”
    Allan put away his notepad and
slipped the apron on. “You enjoy this work?”
    “Very much so.”
    “It never bothers you? The sights
and smells?”
    Sodero shook his head. “Not really,
Lieutenant. I find the human body very fascinating. I realized when
I dissected a fetal pig back in grade ten biology class I would
someday get into this type of work.”
    “A fetal pig, huh?” Allan raised
his eyebrows. “In my biology class we only dissected a starfish and
a frog. And I found both to be rather disgusting.”
    Sodero chuckled. “We used those for
dissections too, Lieutenant. I must say the fetal pig was my
favorite though. Call me weird, but during my years in university I
kept one preserved in a jar in my dorm room.”
    “And I bet you had a name for him
too?”
    “I did.” Sodero smiled. “I called
him Fred.”
    Just then, Coulter came back with
the body and the developed x-rays. He pinned the images to a view
box mounted on the far wall. Allan walked over.
    “No broken pieces of blade,”
Coulter said. “But the fourth posterior rib is broken and the fifth
is completely severed. Both in the nonarticular portion of the
tubercle.” He adjusted his glasses. “The ribs tend to deflect a
blade, directing it into the intercostal spaces between them. It
requires little pressure for a very sharp blade to enter the human
body.” He paused and extended a forefinger, pressing it into
Allan’s arm. “About that much pressure, Lieutenant. Once the tip
punctures the skin, the rest of the blade glides in with relative
ease. But when the blade runs into bone, we have a different story.
This wound here required some force.”
    Allan scratched his chin, looking
past Coulter to the x-rays. “So we’re probably dealing with a male?
Perhaps one with considerable strength?”
    Coulter removed his glasses.
“There’s really no way to quantitate the strength of