a chance to indulge his passion.
In the ‘cutting room’, as Marks liked to call it, they teamed up with the Forensic Pathologist who would be performing the post mortem on Amanda Simms.
Dr Jim Shultz shared the same hairstyle as Marks, only he was naturally completely bald and didn’t shave his head at all. He wore expensive spectacles with gold frames, the lenses exaggerating his dark brown eyes and making them pop out of his skull like a goldfish. He was short and plump and probably not considered the world’s best specimen of masculinity. However, he was very adept at his job, and that’s all Marks cared about. He didn’t need Shultz to win any modeling contests.
Amanda Simms was spread out on the cold and sterile stainless steel table, with its drain hole down the bottom and fluid catchment area beneath. The tone of her skin looked completely unnatural, which was to be expected when one was dead.
The pathologist looked as dapper as he could in his white lab coat , latex gloves and plastic boots. The three men nodded greetings to one another.
“Anything interesting show up o n the X-Rays?” Marks asked the doctor.
“They were all normal,” said Shultz.
“Hmm,” Marks said, standing there rubbing absently at his goatee with thumb and forefinger.
The room smelled like a hospital. It was supposed to be a clean and sterile s cent, but Marks always found it quite sickly. There was another smell in the air, one that would become more pungent as the autopsy got underway. The smell of death.
“You guys want face masks?” the pathologist asked. He obviously wasn’t bothering with one. Used to the aroma, no doubt.
Both Marks and Richards decided a mask and lab coat would be a good idea. They also slipped visors over their heads. The visors had large, clear plastic face shields designed to protect them from any gore splatter. Their hands were then fed into gloves, just in case they needed to touch the deceased.
When they were just about to get underway a female mortuary technician came into the room. She was Asian, possibly Chinese, and was armed with a tray of implements to be used in the autopsy. On the tray were knives and scalpels, forceps for moving things around, a ladle for fluids and a bone saw. There was also an array of other objects spread out on the tray.
One of the SOCOs, a new guy that Marks didn’t really know, entered the room carrying a notebook and a small digital video camera. He would take notes throughout the procedure as well as record events on camera.
Dr Shultz adjusted his glasses, lowered the visor over his face and moved in close to the body. He pointed to Amanda’s throat. “What do you make of these lesions here?” He looked at Marks.
The detective shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me. I thought they may be insect bites of some kind.”
Shultz examined them with the magnifier and nodded to himself a few times.
“What?” Marks wanted to know. “Are they bites?”
“Well, they’re definitely puncture wounds of some kind. They are located directly on the left common carotid artery.”
Marks said, “So what does that mean?”
“It means there is a good supply of blood flow through that artery coming from the aorta.”
“So you think something latched onto her vein and tried to suck her blood?” Marks tried to play with his goatee again - as was his habit when contemplating - but with his gloved fingers and the face mask, he could barely feel the hairs.
“I didn’t say that,” Shultz replied in a firm tone. He made notes of the lesions on a body chart, then proceeded to examine every inch of Amanda’s body, searching for any other wounds. He came up dry. There were no other injuries of any kind. All the while the SOCO filmed every aspect of the procedure, as well as jotting things down on his pad.
Shultz then went to work on the interior examination. With the help of the technician he made various cuts around the body, peeling back the skin, removing
In the ‘cutting room’, as Marks liked to call it, they teamed up with the Forensic Pathologist who would be performing the post mortem on Amanda Simms.
Dr Jim Shultz shared the same hairstyle as Marks, only he was naturally completely bald and didn’t shave his head at all. He wore expensive spectacles with gold frames, the lenses exaggerating his dark brown eyes and making them pop out of his skull like a goldfish. He was short and plump and probably not considered the world’s best specimen of masculinity. However, he was very adept at his job, and that’s all Marks cared about. He didn’t need Shultz to win any modeling contests.
Amanda Simms was spread out on the cold and sterile stainless steel table, with its drain hole down the bottom and fluid catchment area beneath. The tone of her skin looked completely unnatural, which was to be expected when one was dead.
The pathologist looked as dapper as he could in his white lab coat , latex gloves and plastic boots. The three men nodded greetings to one another.
“Anything interesting show up o n the X-Rays?” Marks asked the doctor.
“They were all normal,” said Shultz.
“Hmm,” Marks said, standing there rubbing absently at his goatee with thumb and forefinger.
The room smelled like a hospital. It was supposed to be a clean and sterile s cent, but Marks always found it quite sickly. There was another smell in the air, one that would become more pungent as the autopsy got underway. The smell of death.
“You guys want face masks?” the pathologist asked. He obviously wasn’t bothering with one. Used to the aroma, no doubt.
Both Marks and Richards decided a mask and lab coat would be a good idea. They also slipped visors over their heads. The visors had large, clear plastic face shields designed to protect them from any gore splatter. Their hands were then fed into gloves, just in case they needed to touch the deceased.
When they were just about to get underway a female mortuary technician came into the room. She was Asian, possibly Chinese, and was armed with a tray of implements to be used in the autopsy. On the tray were knives and scalpels, forceps for moving things around, a ladle for fluids and a bone saw. There was also an array of other objects spread out on the tray.
One of the SOCOs, a new guy that Marks didn’t really know, entered the room carrying a notebook and a small digital video camera. He would take notes throughout the procedure as well as record events on camera.
Dr Shultz adjusted his glasses, lowered the visor over his face and moved in close to the body. He pointed to Amanda’s throat. “What do you make of these lesions here?” He looked at Marks.
The detective shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me. I thought they may be insect bites of some kind.”
Shultz examined them with the magnifier and nodded to himself a few times.
“What?” Marks wanted to know. “Are they bites?”
“Well, they’re definitely puncture wounds of some kind. They are located directly on the left common carotid artery.”
Marks said, “So what does that mean?”
“It means there is a good supply of blood flow through that artery coming from the aorta.”
“So you think something latched onto her vein and tried to suck her blood?” Marks tried to play with his goatee again - as was his habit when contemplating - but with his gloved fingers and the face mask, he could barely feel the hairs.
“I didn’t say that,” Shultz replied in a firm tone. He made notes of the lesions on a body chart, then proceeded to examine every inch of Amanda’s body, searching for any other wounds. He came up dry. There were no other injuries of any kind. All the while the SOCO filmed every aspect of the procedure, as well as jotting things down on his pad.
Shultz then went to work on the interior examination. With the help of the technician he made various cuts around the body, peeling back the skin, removing
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