Chapter 8 – Weapon

Dr. Weatherall, the Medical Examiner, squatted on his toes, taking a close look at the deceased female. "Ah."

"Ah?" Scribbs replied while rubbing her arms against the chill of the cellar and the scene of death.

"Ah, as in blunt force trauma."

Scribbs rolled her eyes at Ash. "Glad we called you in."

"Doctor," Ash said to him, "was it the fall?" She glanced up at the rotting floorboards and the hole above her. God she hated dark and smelly cellars. They reminded of her gran's ancient house where scary spiders and creepy cobwebs held sway. She looked at the morbid tableaux again. Two bodies; male and female. The man lay face up and the female face down. "Or was she coshed and then fell or was she pushed?"

"Or did she have a heart attack and fell in?" Scribbs added.

Weatherall considered what his reply ought to be. He'd dealt with DI Ashurst before and found her to be smart and observant. DS Scribbins he'd heard about. The Detective Sergeant tended to be brash and used her gut feel, or so he'd been told by Sullivan. Well, he sighed to himself, perhaps the Boss knew what he was doing putting the two of them together as a team.

Ash cleared her throat then indicated to Scribbs with an irritated look that she should shut it.

Scribbs wrinkled her nose at her partner but clapped her hand over her mouth.

Weatherall stood up, and cracked his back which had gotten stiff from his awkward posture. He looked at the detectives and the light of his headlamp washed over them, blinding them briefly, for both women shielded their eyes. "Sorry." He moved his light off them. "The man, mid-thirties, appears to be in fairly decent health. His cranium - the parietal dome - has been shattered."

"Parietal?" grunted Ash.

"The back of his skull," the M.E. replied. Weatherall bent down and put the light of his headlamp onto the floor at the edge of the skull. "Not unless he fell on something the shape of a round pry bar. I can feel the dent. About 2 centimeters wide, about 3/4's of an inch across I'd say."

Scribbs knelt down getting her trousers full of filth. "But the floor is all smooth concrete."

"Yep," Weatherall answered. "And nothing under his body."

Ash sighed. Murder most foul then. "A homicide."

Weatherall nodded; his light bouncing. "Appears to be."

Scribbs glanced at the position of the bodies. "I think he fell down first and then the woman. Her hand is on his arm."

The left arm on the woman was across the man's left elbow Ash saw. "Hm." She looked closer. "She's holding his elbow. Clutching it."

Weatherall looked at his watch then the piles of debris in the cellar. "My boys will get them out of here and to my lab." He squinted up at the opening above and the aluminium ladder they had used to gain access. "Going to be bloody hard."

Scribbs stood and brushed at her knees. "Damn, I just got these cleaned."

Ash sighed. "At least it looks fairly neat and tidy; I mean the scene of crime."

Scribbs coughed. "But," she pointed at the piles of rubbish around them, "the weapon could be in all that mess."

Weatherall grinned. "I have a new tool. Turn off your torches."

"What?" Ash said.

"Just do it." He switched off his lamp. He rummaged in his hold all. "Now let's see."

The detectives heard a snap and a dim blueish light was visible.

Ash smiled. "Black light – UV."

"Yes," the M.E. said. He waved his light around in widening circles.

"I didn't know that blood wound show up under it," Ash said.

"Not looking for blood," he answered.

Scribbs peered at the weird light show. Occasional scraps of light met her eyes. Weatherall's light roved over a pile of boards and broken pipe and she saw a glimmer. "Wait! Back it up."

"Where?" Weatherall asked.

"Back to the left, I think."

Ash stood still in the dimness, wishing for a hot tea and a soft couch. Her new boots were still stiff and her insteps ached. Ought to have worn the old pair. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck against the chill.

Scribbs yelled. "Stop!" She turned her torch on and walked straight to the spot she'd seen, now invisible under white light. "Ash, look at this."

Kate made her way over shattered boards to where Emma was pointing at a round bar, a largish black steel reinforcement used to strengthen concrete when it was poured. "That's about the proper size, looks to me," she heard her partner say.

Scribbs smiled at Weatherall. "Try your light over here once more."

The M.E. did as instructed after Scribbs turned off her torch. A blotchy blue glow clung to the bar. "Yes, there it is."

"Blood?" Kate asked.

Weatherall smiled in the dark. "No. Cerebral spinal fluid. That's what is glowing; the CSF. It's the watery fluid that surrounds brain and spinal column. Must have been a vicious blow."

Scribbs muttered, "Ought to have studied bloody biology, I guess."

"What?" Kate hissed.

"Nothing," Emma sighed. "At times I hate this job. So they banged him on the head and then threw the bar down here; into the rubbish."

A clattering started as the recovery team brought down basket stretchers and other gear. A photographer followed them and began firing off her camera.

By the time that Scribbs had nearly frozen stiff, which was about an hour later, Weatherall's team had finished their first survey. They gingerly rolled the female body over and found a knife hilt protruding from her chest, just about over her heart.

Kate gave a big sigh. "No, the fall might not be the cause of her death."

Weatherall was taking a close look at the wound. "Quick, this. They got lucky. The blade missed ribs and went straight in. Death would be instantaneous, or nearly so."

Scribbs walked over to Ash and mumbled to her, "Ever think about being a lorry driver or a school teacher?"

Ash shook her head. "Me? A teacher? And deal with kids every day? No thanks."

Note:

Sorry for the long delay getting back to this.

And of course Kate Ashurst was played by Caroline Catz who DOES play a teacher in another show. :)