Secrets and Shadows

Chapter 21

The bodies of Donald and Janet, still dressed in the clothes they were wearing when discovered, lay on two stainless steel mortuary tables. As Grace and Danny entered, Erika Berger was studying a Digital Autopsy scan on a laptop; Sheffield being the first autopsy suite in the world to have such technology. She was pointing out salient features to a tall, thin faced man whom Grace knew to be John Michaelson from the Coroner’s office.

Also attendant was Keith, Erika’s assistant and a SOCO photographer, everyone, Grace and Danny included, was dressed in green scrubs and white rubber boots.

‘Hi Grace, said Erika, ‘welcome to my humble abode where the real detective work is done. I think you know John from the Coroner’s office upstairs.’

‘Yes of course, hello John, Keith, this is Pc Danny Moss, soon to Dc Danny Moss, all being well.’

‘Danny,’ Erika acknowledged with a nod, ‘Grace, whilst I was waiting for you, I carried a preliminary Digital Autopsy on Donald Jarrett. It’s pretty much as expected, he was battered about the head with considerable force, but of course, the Coroner has ordered a full autopsy.’

Observing an autopsy was not something that Grace liked, far from it, but as the SIO, her attendance was mandatory. Danny’s presence was part of his learning curve, not obligatory but helpful to an understanding of forensic medicine procedures.

With the help of Keith, Erika carefully studied every inch of the clothed body, examining every piece of clothing as it was carefully removed and bagged. The clothes, including trouser pockets turned inside out, would be vacuumed for trace material, then examined with a magnifying glass, microscopically by gas chromatograph or spectrometer as necessary, the results forming part of the final autopsy report. Donald had been wearing a blue and white striped long- sleeved Gant shirt, a navy-blue V neck cashmere sweater, both of which were heavily blood-stained, black chino trousers, also bloody, red Paisley pattern M & S boxer shorts and black socks with an embroidered Pringle logo. No shoes.

Then she removed the polythene bags tied about Donald’s hands. These were also bagged, and along with the body bags in which the corpses had been transported to the mortuary, would be forensically examined for any trace material that might have come away. Erika then took scrapings from under the fingernails, cut them and put the scrapings and fingernail cuttings into another evidence bag. Erika then took samples of hair from Donald’s head and pubis, swabs from his nose, mouth, p***s and anus, the body was closely examined for wounds, marks, scratches and bruising before she reached for the scalpels to begin the autopsy dissection.

Throughout the process of opening the body cavities and removing heart and lungs, examining the stomach contents, slicing the top of off Donald’s skull to remove his brain for weighing, Erika Berger was totally concentrated on her work

She had a tiny headset microphone and dictated her findings direct to a transcriber, she gave her instructions to Keith in a quiet voice, indicative that they had worked together for some time and that he knew exactly what was required of him.

Although the mortuary room was chill, with an overriding smell of antiseptic and bodily odours, Grace somehow found Erika’s approach to the autopsy as almost spiritual, she handled the body with something akin to reverence, cutting him open and extracting Donald’s organs was not butchery, but a sacred rite and Grace felt humbled, and surprising herself, muttered a silent prayer.

Danny however, found it extremely unpleasant, a cold-blooded necessary forensic procedure, which he fervently hoped would soon be over.

Finally, Erika unclipped her microphone and leaving Keith to close the body, came across to where Grace and Danny were waiting.

‘Erika, thank you.’ Grace said, nodding towards the body, ‘what do you have for us?’

‘Ok, I’ll give it to you in layman’s terms, you can read the full medical terminology when you get the report. Not that I’m talking down to you, you understand,’ she said, looking at Danny to see if he felt offended, ‘but it’s quicker this way and we still have Janet to do. OK?’

They both nodded in agreement and Erika continued. ‘Donald Jarrett, aged 59, was severely battered about the head with considerable blunt force. He was struck at least 14 times to the top and left side of the skull. He was, as we saw, attacked from behind as he sat at the kitchen table. He was apparently reading a newspaper, the ‘Daily Mail,’

‘That’s probably what got him killed’ interjected Dany, ‘I mean, reading the ‘Hate Mail’, serves him right, Sorry, but I couldn’t help myself.’

‘As compelling as that theory is,’ Erika responded with a smile, ‘I can’t see even the most ardent Mail-hating Guardian reader resorting to this.’

‘Right,’ Erika continued, unfazed by the interruption, she knew from experience that some police needed the release of gallows humour to get through an autopsy, ‘post mortem lividity proves the he was killed where he sat, in the chair, not killed elsewhere and moved. There are defence wounds on his left hand, obviously from the hammer as he lifted his hands to protect himself, but to no avail

The attack must have been rapid, and savage and he would have been unconscious very quickly and death would have occurred shortly after. From the position of the blows to the head, mainly the left side, I would opine that the killer was left-handed.’

Grace looked up to the ceiling as she tried to envisage the scene, Donald Jarrett quietly reading his newspaper, a cup of coffee nearby, when an unknown assailant attacks him savagely from behind. There was a lot of hatred in those blows, she thought.

There was a lot of hatred in those blows,‘The assailant continued to rain blows to his head, even after death,’ Erika continued, ‘The hammer found at the scene is consistent with the injuries, the indents in the scalp and skull match the hammer head. I would say with certainty that the hammer was the murder weapon.’

‘Mrs White in the kitchen with the hammer, eh? Sorry, a bit of levity is the only way I can get through this.’

‘That’s OK, Danny I need a bit of a laugh myself sometimes.’ Erika responded with a smile. ‘The killer would have blood all over their sleeves and top, probably spattering up onto his face and head, such was the ferocity of the blows.’

‘Could Janet Jarrett be the killer, I mean she’s not big woman, she’s what 5.2’’, 5’3’?’ asked Grace.

‘Certainly, yes, Donald Jarrett was seated. So, an attack to the head is perfectly feasible for a woman of her size.’

‘I did not see any blood on her clothes last evening? Grace queried.

‘No, there is no blood on any of her clothing, not even spatters,’

‘If she was the killer, she could have changed clothes and disposed of the bloody ones,’ Danny said.

‘Yes, that is possible, but we cannot definitely confirm who died first. Obviously both Dr Phil and I took the temperature of the bodies, but the kitchen was very warm whilst the garage was much colder, factors which can affect the rate of heat loss from the body, a main determinant for time of death. Quite simply, we cannot give you an accurate time of death, any estimate could be a couple of hours out in either direction’

‘So, it just about possible for Janet to kill Donald, dispose of the bloody clothes and get back in time to go into the garage and hang herself,’ Grace said ‘But it just doesn’t sit right. Why go to all the trouble of disposing of the bloody clothes if you intend to kill yourself? Of the record, Erika, in your considered opinion, who died first?’

‘Of the record, and don’t quote me, Janet. Janet died first.’

‘If that’s right, then David Jarrett’s theory is shot into the bushes,’ exclaimed Danny, ‘Ma’am, do we now rate him as the killer. OK, even if there was no blood on his clothes when you saw him yesterday, there’s nothing to say he couldn’t have disposed of bloody clothes before calling it in.’

‘Yes, I think this puts David Jarrett very much on the top of a short list.’

‘It’s near lunchtime, do you two want to grab a bite’ Erika asked, ‘whilst I finish with Donald and prep Janet.’

Grace and Danny looked at each other. ‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ said Grace.

Danny said, ‘Could do with some fresh air, first, truth to be told.’

‘The canteen is up on the third floor, it’s not too bad and the coffee is at least drinkable.

Once outside in Watery Street, Danny stood for a moment or two. taking deep breaths. ‘I hated that,’ he said, ‘the mortuary, the smell, and all that. Where the dead get to be even deader.’

‘It’s not my idea of lunchtime fun, either.’

They made their way back into the centre and up to the small canteen,

‘Can’t say I really fancy meat,’ Danny said as he studied the menu, ‘I don’t think I could even look at a burger or sausage after what I’ve just seen, I’d be wondering what the meat was. Fish and chips’ll probably do for me.’

‘Sounds good to me, fish and chips twice it is.’