"Hope you enjoy this as much as that steak last night."
The shell that had been Milton Grafton a few days before, stretched the length of the metal table. Deep grooves on either side of the solid stainless-steel slab ran toward a drain at the lower end that waited for body fluids. Steel trays used to weigh various organs hung from scales over George's head.
"Death is the great equalizer. There's a whole history hidden in this guy's blood and bones; unfortunately, because the dead can't speak, we'll never know what it is--only the way he died and the way he lived. Every time is always a surprise. God, I love pathology."
"Only a ghoul could get a thrill out of this."
Placing his foot on the recorder pedal, George pressed downward. "I'm ready to begin." He spoke into the hanging microphone. "The body is that of a well-nourished white male, reported age of 55, measuring 6 feet, 1 inch and weighing 185 pounds. Body identified as Milton Grafton. Eyes are blue-gray; right pupil measures 0.5 cm in diameter and left 0.5 cm. Gray-brown hair with slight frontal receding. The oral cavity is blocked by the presence of a severed penis, apparently belonging to the victim." He removed the organ. "Outwardly, the thorax and abdomen seem in their normal anatomic positions. I am now making a standard "Y" incision from each shoulder to the pit of the stomach and ending at the pubic bone."
Krastowitcz watched as the scalpel slid effortlessly from the sternum toward the barren pubic triangle leaving a wake of severed sinew and tissue oozing from the newly exposed cavity. In a brief moment of time, a living breathing human was reduced to so much gore. Someday, he'd take his place on the slab--inevitably.
He pointed toward the rib cage. "What's that?"
George leaned in closer and studied his handiwork. "The left pleural cavity's been ruptured, causing multi-focal bilateral adhesions from the visceral pleura to the parietal pleura. The small and large bowel mucosa has been ruptured by the passage of a narrow blunt instrument, yet to be determined, inserted into the anus and forced upward. Exact etiology of the cause of death at this time has yet to be determined. I'm now separating the subphrenic area." George reached in through the ribs toward the pericardium.
"I feel the tip of something narrow and rounded. Slender like a sword, but not sharp. Whew! Death was not instantaneous; the object didn't puncture the heart."
Krastowticz took two steps back and rubbed his forehead. "Jesus."
"See, Gary, the abdomen hasn't been punctured, either. But, look here. The pancreas has been torn. See that tan-gray area within the coarse surface?" George slowly lifted the torn pancreas and shoved it toward Gary's face.
Instinctively, Krastowitcz swiped his hand away. "Cut it out, George. I'm not in the mood."
"No tumors, but an area of hemorrhage is noted. Death couldn't have occurred for several minutes after initial onset of penetration, unless he died of shock, which is unlikely from the amount of blood at the scene." Taking his foot off the pedal he added, "pretty gruesome, huh, Gary-boy?"
"Look, George, you're not going to get to me. Do you know how many autopsies I've attended in the last ten years? About as many as you've performed, so save the melodrama for someone who gives a shit. Get to the murder weapon." The pain in his head had dulled to a slow, even throb--not a good day for kidding.
"Okay, okay. Don't get excited. I've dissected all the intestines around the instrument. See that area of tearing? There must have been a great force involved, because look. What the. . . For Christ's sake! Gary, look."
George looked as surprised as Gary felt. The pathologist tugged on an eighteen-inch, slender staff intertwined with snakes. Covered with blood, it appeared red. "Why it's a caduceus!"
"What the hell is that, George?"
"Shit.
The shell that had been Milton Grafton a few days before, stretched the length of the metal table. Deep grooves on either side of the solid stainless-steel slab ran toward a drain at the lower end that waited for body fluids. Steel trays used to weigh various organs hung from scales over George's head.
"Death is the great equalizer. There's a whole history hidden in this guy's blood and bones; unfortunately, because the dead can't speak, we'll never know what it is--only the way he died and the way he lived. Every time is always a surprise. God, I love pathology."
"Only a ghoul could get a thrill out of this."
Placing his foot on the recorder pedal, George pressed downward. "I'm ready to begin." He spoke into the hanging microphone. "The body is that of a well-nourished white male, reported age of 55, measuring 6 feet, 1 inch and weighing 185 pounds. Body identified as Milton Grafton. Eyes are blue-gray; right pupil measures 0.5 cm in diameter and left 0.5 cm. Gray-brown hair with slight frontal receding. The oral cavity is blocked by the presence of a severed penis, apparently belonging to the victim." He removed the organ. "Outwardly, the thorax and abdomen seem in their normal anatomic positions. I am now making a standard "Y" incision from each shoulder to the pit of the stomach and ending at the pubic bone."
Krastowitcz watched as the scalpel slid effortlessly from the sternum toward the barren pubic triangle leaving a wake of severed sinew and tissue oozing from the newly exposed cavity. In a brief moment of time, a living breathing human was reduced to so much gore. Someday, he'd take his place on the slab--inevitably.
He pointed toward the rib cage. "What's that?"
George leaned in closer and studied his handiwork. "The left pleural cavity's been ruptured, causing multi-focal bilateral adhesions from the visceral pleura to the parietal pleura. The small and large bowel mucosa has been ruptured by the passage of a narrow blunt instrument, yet to be determined, inserted into the anus and forced upward. Exact etiology of the cause of death at this time has yet to be determined. I'm now separating the subphrenic area." George reached in through the ribs toward the pericardium.
"I feel the tip of something narrow and rounded. Slender like a sword, but not sharp. Whew! Death was not instantaneous; the object didn't puncture the heart."
Krastowticz took two steps back and rubbed his forehead. "Jesus."
"See, Gary, the abdomen hasn't been punctured, either. But, look here. The pancreas has been torn. See that tan-gray area within the coarse surface?" George slowly lifted the torn pancreas and shoved it toward Gary's face.
Instinctively, Krastowitcz swiped his hand away. "Cut it out, George. I'm not in the mood."
"No tumors, but an area of hemorrhage is noted. Death couldn't have occurred for several minutes after initial onset of penetration, unless he died of shock, which is unlikely from the amount of blood at the scene." Taking his foot off the pedal he added, "pretty gruesome, huh, Gary-boy?"
"Look, George, you're not going to get to me. Do you know how many autopsies I've attended in the last ten years? About as many as you've performed, so save the melodrama for someone who gives a shit. Get to the murder weapon." The pain in his head had dulled to a slow, even throb--not a good day for kidding.
"Okay, okay. Don't get excited. I've dissected all the intestines around the instrument. See that area of tearing? There must have been a great force involved, because look. What the. . . For Christ's sake! Gary, look."
George looked as surprised as Gary felt. The pathologist tugged on an eighteen-inch, slender staff intertwined with snakes. Covered with blood, it appeared red. "Why it's a caduceus!"
"What the hell is that, George?"
"Shit.
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