Constable George Crabtree was with Doctor Julia Ogden and Miss James in the morgue. All three were still mystified about the whereabouts of their latest guest, and it seemed to be the topic of idol conversation as they studied the shrunken head.

"Who would do such a thing?" Miss James then asked as she stared down at the hairy mass on the examination table.

"Some tribes in South America do this as a ritual or a trophy, depending on the need," Crabtree spoke up. "I looked it up in the encyclopedia Britannica," he proudly added. Crabtree enjoyed the weird and paranormal, often testing Murdoch and Brackenreid's mettle on any of the subjects.

"You seem to be quite knowledgeable, Constable," Miss James stated, looking up at the Constable.

"Well, thank you Miss James," George blushed slightly. "I like to learn new things and given cases like this, I can immerse myself in research. Who knows, one day I might write another book," he smiled broadly.

"I suppose you know how it's done," Julia quipped slightly sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, I do. It's all a bit gruesome," the Constable stated wondering if the women were up to hearing all about it.

"Oh?" Julia baited the policeman.

"Honest it is," Crabtree responded, flashing the palm of his right hand that was nested on his chin.

"Do tell," Julia insisted.

"I warn you," Crabtree said in slight protest.

"We're both coroners. How bad could it be?" Julia shrugged.

"That's a very valid point, Doctor," the Constable poked his right index finger in the air as he moved closer to the examination table.

"Well?" Julia urged George to tell them about the shrunken heads of South America.

"Well, okay then," Crabtree began. "After the deed was done," he motioned with his right hand across his throat indicating decapitation, "The tribal people would peel off the flesh, turning it inside out," be continued. Miss James was making a face, but she listened with interest. "and they'd use a tool to scrape away any remaining flesh so only the skin is left, they would do that to the bone too, I suppose," he paused in thought before he started up again. They would then sew up the eyes," he added.

"Why would they do that? Why wouldn't they shrink it all at the same time?" Julia asked.

"Apparently they stripped the flesh off so that the skull could shrink at a different rate. I assume this process took quite some time to do, having not seen it done myself," the Constable noted.

"Well, it's all very interesting," Julia stated as she rolled the head over on the table. "It's still rather ghastly, however," she stated.

"Well, the process doesn't stop there," Crabtree exclaimed.

Both Ogden and James exchanged looks. "Oh?" Julia cautiously asked.

"Oh no, you see," George said, "it has to be put back together. After the skull was boiled for however long, the shrivelled skin would be put back over the bone, with pegs through the lips before it was hung over a fire to dry," he noted. "I'm not sure how long that took either," he sighed.

"Well, that is very interesting and disturbing," Julia stated.

"They were used as trophies, if you will," Crabtree concluded just as Murdoch and Brackenreid entered the room of the morgue. The Constable stopped and turned on his heels.

"What have you George?" Murdoch quickly asked.

George glanced back at the ladies for help, "A real to goodness shrunken head, Sirs," he then looked at his two bosses.

"Well that's good to know George, but is it the one from the University?" the Detective asked.

"I'd say it is," Julia stated as she used a metal probe to lift the hair at the back. "This is their acquisition number, if I'm correct," he pointed to the inked number on the lower part of the skull. "Special numbers are adhered to objects in museum and galleries to help associated them with their donor or track them in the storage," she noted. "I would wager that the University uses similar practices."

"Interesting," Murdoch said. "Anything else?" he then asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Sirs. The sack found in the barn at Mr. Simpson's farm was the one that the head was in, and," George stated as he moved down the table to the burlap bag, "the piece that Councillor Best had on his person matches," he pointed out the area that had been ripped out, compared to the piece Best had in his hand. "Both pieces have hair from that," he then pointed to the shrunken head. He looked up at his two bosses.

"Why would Councillor Best have a shrunken head in his possession? Especially the the one from the University? And what was he doing in the alley at night?" Brackenreid as quick to ask. The room was silent.

"Maybe he found it and realized what it was and was taking it back," Crabtree finally offered as he picked up the shrunken head.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps he was taking it somewhere," Murdoch looked at his boss.

"Bloody hell! There's more questions now than there were before," Brackenreid huffed. "I'm getting a drink and think about this," he gruffly turned on his heels and left the morgue.

"It Inspector's right," Julia said. "We do have more questions than answers right now," he took the head from Crabtree's hand and placed it back down on the table.

"Maybe this will shed some light on the matter," the Detective said as he carefully pulled the small bottle from his pocket and handed it gingerly to George. "See if you an gets some fingermarks off this," he stated.

"Certainly Sir," George took the small bottle, cupping it in his hands. Noting what it was, he took the opportunity to take a sniff, which made his nose itch on the inside. He also made a sour face, "Who would wear this?" he asked.

"I wondered the same thing," Murdoch replied. "Let's me know what you find," he added as he watched the Constable walk away, using his free hand to wave away the smell of cologne. His attention came back to Julia, "Any ideas about Councillor Best?" he asked with a very puzzled look on his face.

Julia shook her head no, "Unless he had an extremely low heart rate, he was dead," she shrugged.

"'Was' is the operative word. Now where is he?" Murdoch asked aloud, arching his left eyebrow.

"There has to be a logical explanation to all this," Julia stated. "But, it looks like it's going to be hard to find," she continued as she picked up the head, studying it further. "It's a mystery within a mystery."

"Indeed," the Detective sighed. "I'll be back later," he said as he dismissed himself from the room to rejoin his boss back at Station House No. 4.

Julia and Miss James remained where they stood. "Do you think we'll ever find the answers?" Miss James asked.

"If there's anyone in this city that will find the answers, it will be Detective Murdoch," Julia stated.