Whitechapel: The Final Stand of Sherlock Holmes

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Book: Read Whitechapel: The Final Stand of Sherlock Holmes for Free Online
Authors: Bernard J. Schaffer
took the ten-inch needle and pierced the sole of the woman’s left foot, driving it in above her heel until the tip poked under the skin on the arch of her foot. “No response to that either. I think it is conclusive that she is dead. We may begin.”
    At William’s instruction, Monty did a quick sketch of the woman’s body, noting the position of her arms and legs, which had been in the same position as when they arrived at the office. Monty stared in wonder as his father took a knife and slit her forehead from ear to ear, pulling her scalp free with a firm tug on her hair. “Next, we expose the skull and check for injuries.”
    The skull’s crown was pearl white, and at the center was a large circular indentation, chipping the bones around it outward in a spider web. “Here we are. Make a drawing of this, please,” William instructed.
    Monty quickly sketched the wound while William read through the paperwork underneath the woman’s clothes. “Her husband reported that she fell down the stairs after drinking too much brandy. I think that wound looks more like a hammer’s blow. I believe it is safe to say that the police will want to speak to this man at length. Give me the saw.” William sawed across the scalp line, scattering white bone dust on his clothes and the floor. He went around her entire head with the saw, then twisted and uncapped the woman, revealing her brain. “Get me a bucket,” William said. Monty held the bucket underneath the skull as blood and clumps of brain matter leaked into it. William severed the connective nerves of the wet gray mass inspected it between his thumbs over top of the bucket. “Here it is,” he grinned, spreading the gelatinous surface of the brain flat with his thumbs. “Do you see the clotted blood where the skull was broken?”
    Monty nodded. William told him to fetch a tray for the brain, which was set on the table.
    “Help me flip her over,” William said. Monty grabbed the woman beneath her cold arms and pulled her toward him, feeling her breasts squash against his chest. “Let her down on her chest.” He cut her open down the length of her spine, along either side, exposing the knotted bones of her spinal cord. He inspected each length of the spine, and grunted with satisfaction. “Now flip her back over. Hand me the larger knife.” William’s hand shook as he wrapped his fingers around the bone handle. “This is why we always sharpen our knives at the end of business on Friday, Monty. We never know which one we will need them that following Monday. Here we are. Help me, I cannot seem to steady my hand.”
    “Allow me, father,” Monty said, putting his hand over William’s. With his son steadying him, William made the cuts and reflected the skin flaps under her jaw. “Now we must plunge the knife in and under the symphysis of the jaw.”
    “Where is that?”
    “Where the two mandibular bones meet, right at the center of the jaw directly below her two lower front teeth,” William replied. Monty pointed the knife into the woman’s gullet as William instructed. He looked down at her calm face, with the large knife’s handle sticking out from her chin. “Reach in and grab her tongue, and pull it down and through that opening in her throat.”
    Monty looked down at the woman’s severed skull, splayed front, and tongue poking out of the opening in her throat and exhaled deeply. “Are you all right, son?”
    “I am fine. How are you feeling?”
    “Better. Take your knife and divide her palate. Can you identify the pharynx, larynx and trachea? Good. Remove them one by one and place them on the tray. Now remove her esophagus. As you examine each organ, do you see any foreign objects in them?”
    Monty inspected them carefully and said no. William then instructed Monty on slitting the bronchi and removing it, then cutting the lungs into sections. Once finished, William bent over and wiped his brow. “Just give me a moment, son. I need to collect myself

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