Desecration Read Online Free Page B

“It’s a classic hangman’s fracture and cause of death is likely to be asphyxia secondary to cervical injury. It only takes a few minutes. I’ll confirm in the post-mortem but those would be my preliminary thoughts. Her body was then dragged to this central area and postmortem lividity shows she was on her back here when the body was cut open.”
    Jamie glanced down at the bloody wound, held open by a retractor. “Can you tell what was done?”  
    Skinner nodded. “Looks like her uterus was removed. Skillfully done too. It’s a perfect Pfannenstiel incision, a Caesarean section, and it looks like the instruments used were from the Museum’s collection.”
    Jamie tilted her head on one side. “That implies no pre-meditation, at least for the excision.” She paused, looking around the museum at the specimen jars surrounding them, an echo of the mutilated body. “Was she dead when her uterus was cut out?”  
    “It looks that way but I’ll know for sure after the autopsy. The lack of significant blood loss around the wound suggests that the heart stopped pumping during the operation.”  
    Jamie felt a sense of relief that Jenna hadn’t felt the invasion of her body, but why had it been done?  
    “Any idea of time of death?”  
    “Between nine and midnight, but I might get something more exact after the autopsy. I would say that it was certainly during the gala event. Right, I’ve done all I can here.”
    Skinner nodded at two other men, also in protective clothing and they came forward to remove the body. They bagged the woman’s hands and laid down a plastic sheet. As the corpse was lifted, Jamie heard something fall from the folds of Jenna’s dress with a dull thunk. She signaled for the photographer to capture it as she bent to look more closely, pulling out her sterile gloves and an evidence bag. It was a figurine carved of ivory, around four inches long, a woman laid on her back, torso opened in a detailed miniature dissection. The woman’s serene ivory face portrayed a calm demeanor even as her body lay open and mutilated, her organs and loops of intestines painted a deep red.
      “You can take the body,” Jamie said to Skinner, who was clearly eager to get back to his lab. “I’ll deal with this.”  
    She waited until the body had been zipped in its bag and strapped to the gurney. Once it had been wheeled out, she beckoned to the officer by the door to bring the Curator. He shuffled over slowly, his face a mask of grief. Even surrounded by mementoes of death every day, it must have been a horrifying shock to find the newly dead body early this morning. After some brief introductions, Jamie indicated the figurine.  
    “Could you explain what this is, sir?” she asked, her voice coaxing.
    The Curator’s posture became more focused as he directed his attention to the figurine, bending down to look but careful not to touch it.  
    “It’s an anatomical Venus,” he said. “They were made from the seventeenth century onwards as a way to teach anatomy, but increasingly they became more of an attraction for the cabinets of curiosities belonging to various wealthy collectors. They wanted things that were strange or terrible, horrific or unusual, those that would provoke a reaction in the viewer.”  
    “Is it valuable?” Jamie asked.  
    The Curator nodded. “Absolutely. We have some examples here but it’s not one of ours. It must belong to a private collection, or a museum perhaps. Someone will be missing it, for sure.”  
    There was a bustle of noise at the doorway to the Museum and Jamie turned to see Detective Constable Alan Missinghall enter, hunching over in an attempt to be less obtrusive. He failed miserably, his six foot five muscular frame dwarfing the other officers on scene. He was new in the department and so far Jamie was impressed with his work. Missinghall had only just turned thirty and many underestimated him, seeing in his physicality a propensity for violence.