Chapter 15 Chapter 15 Visiting the Cemetery

The next morning, I happily started my day of outpatient work.Because there are still those old patients on the list, I am in a very happy mood this day, and the task of making outpatient visits is also very easy.The court's verdict was an unexpected surprise, at least it kept my two friends' interest in the case uninterrupted.I hear that Thorndike is back from Bristol, and I want to go and see him.To my great delight, Miss Burlingham agreed to spend this wonderful afternoon with me, and we will go to the British Museum to see the exhibition. At about 10:45 I had seen two patients, and three minutes later I was in Feet Lane, eager to hear Thorndike's assessment of my investigative court notes.When I rushed to his office, I found the oak door was open. I knocked lightly on the small brass ring on the door, and my former mentor Thorndike appeared in front of me.

"Bakri, nice to see you." He shook hands with me cordially as he said, "I didn't expect you to arrive so soon. I'm just looking at yesterday's testimonial records!" He pulled a chair for me, brought a stack of manuscript paper, and put it on the table. "Are you surprised by yesterday's ruling?" I asked. "It's not surprising at all," he said, flipping through the manuscript paper. "Two years is indeed too short, but it is likely to be another result. Now I feel more at ease. With this time, our investigation work You don't have to be so nervous."

"My notes, do you think they can help solve this case?" I asked softly. "Heath thinks so. Peter gave him the note, which will help him in his cross-examination. I just got it back from him and haven't looked at it yet. We'll discuss it later." He got up and took my notes from the drawer, sat back in his chair, and looked at them intently.I got up and stood beside him, looking at the notes quietly.Suddenly, I noticed a smile on the corner of his mouth, and I took a closer look at the notes. It turned out that he had seen the sketch of the arm bone found in Sidka with the string of snail eggs glued to it.

My face couldn't help feeling hot, and I hurriedly said: "The sketches weren't of much use, but I got them down anyway." "I thought you wanted to convey something!" "Those clusters of eggs are quite eye-catching, so I drew them." "Thank you, Bakri. If others would not bother to record these seemingly small or irrelevant things. Some people only pay attention to some seemingly important clues. In fact, sometimes those clues have no effect on the detection of the case. .But, do you really think these egg clusters are important to this case?"

"No. Judging from the distribution of these egg clusters, these bones should be in the water." I replied calmly. "That's right. This arm bone is lying flat, and when it is stretched out, the outside of the arm faces upwards. In addition, this arm has had its palm removed before it was thrown into the pond. We should pay attention to this." I glanced at the sketch again, secretly amazed that he could piece together the arm bone from those scattered bone sketches. "Because it's not particularly obvious, I didn't notice it." I scratched my head and said.

"Look, there are egg strings on the outside of the scapula, humerus, and forearm. However, the six metacarpal bones you drew, including two metacarpal bones, a capitate bone, and three phalanx bones, are all glued to the palm side. There are egg strings. Therefore, the palm of this hand should be facing up." "But perhaps the palm is turned upside down?" "You mean flipped to be on the same plane as the outside of the arm? That's unlikely. Judging from the position of these egg strings, the arm bone is laid flat with the palm facing down. So, if the hand is attached to the arm, It is physically impossible to have both the outer side of the arm bone and the inner side of the metacarpal bone like this."

"After soaking in the pond for a period of time, will the palm be separated from the arm bone?" I asked puzzled. "That's not possible. Unless the ligaments rot, the palm won't detach. But if the bone detached after the soft tissue had rotted, it would spread out, not as it does now. You can see the sketch You will find that these egg clusters are densely arranged on the palm surface of each bone, which means that these bones are still in their normal position. So, this palm was cut off first, and then it was thrown into the pond." "Why do you do this? What's the purpose?" I asked puzzled.

"Hehe, you have to think about some problems by yourself. Also, I think your expedition was very successful, and your observation skills are indeed very keen. Your only shortcoming is that you only noticed certain phenomena, but you couldn't analyze them clearly. important, but that’s because you are still young and relatively inexperienced. There are many important clues in the materials you collected.” "Are you satisfied with my performance?" I asked excitedly, "but apart from these egg strings, I don't see any important materials I have collected. Moreover, in fact, these egg strings are very important for us to solve this case." It didn't help at all!"

"Bakri, for us, even a little bit of clues can't be let go. Perhaps, what is the special significance of this amputated hand, we don't know yet—but, you don't think these bones Are there some problems with numbers and status?" "This..." I said slowly, "I'm just wondering why the shoulder blade and clavicle are connected to the arm bone. Is it more reasonable to cut it off from the shoulder joint?" "You're right," Thorndike nodded, "I think so too. This is true of many dismemberment cases I have dealt with before. In the eyes of ordinary people, the shoulder joint is the joint between the arm and the torso. They will also start from this position. So this method of dismemberment is very unusual, and if you are not a master of dismemberment, you should not be able to do this. What do you think?"

"You think the murderer was a butcher?" I asked, frowning. "I recall Dr. Sumus saying that this is how lamb shoulders are cut." "No, the butcher cuts off the shoulder blade with the shoulder meat in order to remove a large piece of lamb. Since sheep have no collarbone, this is the easiest way to dismember a leg of lamb. If a butcher uses this method to dismember a person It's a tricky situation. The collarbone is a new challenge for the butcher. Also, butchers generally don't have such a delicate hand. You should have seen those butchers who sell meat, when they cut the joint would chop it off with great force, instead of taking such pains to avoid leaving a knife mark on the bone. I don't know if you noticed, but there is not a single knife mark or scratch on these bones, not even on the finger bones .If you look at the way museums handle human bones, they take great care in dismembering the joint bones, trying to avoid leaving a trace of the joint."

"Then you mean that the man who dismembered the corpse had a good knowledge and skill in anatomy?" "Apparently so. But, that's not my inference." "You disagree with that opinion?" "Baikeri, you should know that I can't express any opinions now. However, I hope you can deduce something from these known arguments." Thorndike said with a smile. "If my deduction is correct, will you give me a hint?" I asked. "No," he said with a mysterious smile, "when you complete the puzzle, you will understand." "It's so tormenting, I really want to know the truth now!" I frowned and thought hard, which made Thorndike laugh out loud. "I think the key to this case is the identity of the deceased, which can only be confirmed by specific evidence, and there is no room for ambiguity." I said seriously. "You are quite right. No matter whose bones belong to them, as long as the bones can be put together completely, the answer will naturally emerge. As one question is solved, more questions will follow: who put They were discarded in the pond? Why not hide them and put them in the pond where they can be found? Now talk about your observation work. Have you found anything new about other parts of the bone? For example, Why were the cervical vertebrae cut off?" "I also find it very strange. Why did the murderer separate the first cervical vertebra from the skull? Judging from this situation, he must be good at using a scalpel. However, I really don't understand why he took so much trouble." I Puzzled, he just shook his head. "The murderer's method of dismemberment is indeed very special. Instead of cutting off the cervical spine from the lower part of the spine in the usual way, he cut off the head from the top of the cervical spine; instead of cutting off the arm from the shoulder joint, he The arm and the entire shoulder blade were cut off as well. The thigh was cut in the same way, neither of the two thighbones they had tried so far had the kneecap attached. In fact, attaching the kneecap to the thigh is the easiest way to dismember a leg. Easy way. But in this case, the kneecap is left on the calf. Why would this man use such a complicated technique? What is his motivation for doing it? Under what circumstances would a person resort to such a method of dismemberment ?” Thorndike asked a series of questions, and I just felt confused at the time. "Neither do I. I suspect he may have dismembered the body anatomically." "Do you think this is a reasonable inference?" Thorndike giggled, "This is not necessarily true, there may be a lot of problems hidden in it. From an anatomical point of view, the kneecap does not belong to the calf, but to the area of ​​the thigh , but the kneecap in this case was actually connected to the calf. In fact, the murderer was not preparing human bone samples for the museum, but dismembered the corpse into small pieces of the same proportion, and then discarded them in various corners of the pond. What circumstances would make He chooses to do it?" With that said, Thorndike looked at me. "I can't figure it out, what do you think?" "I think it can be figured out," Thorndike smiled at me mysteriously, "if you think hard, you can." "Have you found anything new after reading the report of the Coroner's Inquiry?" I asked. "Until now, most of my understanding of this case has been based on indirect evidence, and there is no definite factual evidence for me to make specific comments. Remember that the smallest incidents can also accumulate into extremely weighty evidence, and The small evidence in my hands is gradually increasing. I forgot one thing, I have an appointment with Marchmont, and I have something to discuss." So, two minutes later, Thorndike walked in the direction of Lombard Street, and I went to Feet Lane.On the way, thinking about the upcoming date, he couldn't help secretly laughing. There was a message from a patient in the clinic. As soon as Adover finished speaking, I took my stethoscope and rushed to Gunpowder Lane, the elegant community where my patient lived.The journey was pleasant, and in a little while I was passing through Grove Square and Tavern Lane, quiet alleys often steeped in a peculiar literary atmosphere. The spirit of the author of "Prince Resles" still seems to haunt the scenes of his satirical yet humorous fable.The smell of books and ink permeates the whole alley. A boy covered in ink is pushing a trolley full of fonts slowly in the alley. When passers-by pass by, the trolley has to stop at the dark alley. In the corridors; from the windows in the basement, you can clearly see the printers at work inside; the smell of glue, paste and ink fills the air; a huge community suddenly becomes the sphere of influence of printing houses and bookbinders.My patient is a paper cutter. I didn't expect him to have such a tough job. It doesn't seem to match his conservative and gentle image. Now that all the scenarios are on the back of my mind, I have to hurry up and get on a date, that's all that matters.I arrived at Miss Burlingham's an hour early, and found her waiting for me in the garden. "Walking around the museum together," she said to me with a smile, "it feels like going back in time. I suddenly remembered the clay tablets with cuneiform characters and your generosity. Shall we walk there today?" "That's a good idea," I nodded. "It's a bit wronged you to squeeze the bus. We can chat while walking." "Well, the noisy streets make people appreciate the quietness of the museum more. So what are we going to visit next?" "You decide!" I said very gentlemanly, "You are more familiar with those exhibits than I am." "Well," she thought about it, "the ancient British porcelain is pretty good, and it's worth seeing, especially the Fulham porcelain inside. I want to show you there." When we were approaching Staples Law School, she stopped suddenly and looked dreamily at Gray Law School Road. "This case has troubled you recently. You must have put a lot of effort into it. We are not in a hurry now. I want to take you to the cemetery designated by Uncle John, but it will take a while." "I'd love to." In fact, how much I wanted to prolong our walk together, I would do anything for it.As long as she is by my side, it doesn't matter where I go, even if the journey is far away.I had been curious about this cemetery before, because it is the core content of the second clause of the will.So, I immediately agreed.We turned in at the intersection with Gray's Law School. As we passed through a dimly lit passage, she asked me: "Have you ever wondered what a certain place you are familiar with would have looked like hundreds of years ago?" "I often think about it, but first you have to imagine a lot of materials that can be reconstructed, and its current appearance will always jump in front of you. However, some places seem to be easy to imagine." "I think so too," she pouted. "Like Holborn, this place is easy to remind people of its past. Although there are some gaps between imagination and reality, there are many old buildings in this place , the main entrance of Staples Law School and Gray Law School. Since I have seen pictures of Old Mead Street and some old taverns before, it will help a little. As for the passage under our feet, I am always confused when I see it , because it is not only old, but also strange, and it is impossible to imagine that Sir Coveld Roger walked down the walkway of Gray's Law School from this road, or that Francis Bacon had a In the office, what is it like here?" "Perhaps its surroundings are too complicated. You see, Gray's Law is on one side of it, not much changed since Bacon's time, and his office should still be there, just a little bit in at the entrance; near Clerkenwell This side is a densely populated area, which is characterized by a large concentration of rural people and homeless people, and the inside is dirty and messy; areas such as Bagney Gywells and Hockletine, there is nothing to see in the first place Old buildings. Sometimes it’s hard to use our imagination without historical material.” "You are right, the old neighborhoods around Clerkenwell always give people a very confusing feeling. Take the old street of Darmont Street for example. Remove its modern buildings and replace it with beautiful The old houses - like the few remaining ones now, then replace the main road and sidewalk with a gravel road, and erect a few wooden pillars with oil lamps, and the reconstruction work is complete, and the reconstruction is very beautiful .” "What a disturbing thought! We should have done better than our ancestors by tearing down old buildings, replacing museum doors, colonnades, panels and mantelpieces, and rebuilding cheap, dull buildings in their place .” Miss Bellingham looked at me, covered her mouth lightly, and laughed: "For a young man, your thoughts are a bit pessimistic. You seem to have Jeremiah's sadness in your body, fortunately, it is only about architecture." "Sad? There are too many things to be happy about. Isn't there a beautiful woman accompanying me at the moment? I went to the museum, and she would use the mummy box to please me and the tiles to comfort me. Could this also be sad? " "Porcelain," she corrected. At this time, a group of dignified girls came from the fork in the road. "They were medical students, I suppose," said Miss Burlingham. "Yes, they seem to be going to the Royal Free Hospital. They are very serious, not at all frivolous like boys." I said, pointing at the girls. "Strange, why are girls in professional work so serious?" She blinked mischievously. "Maybe, it's their choice! There is a type of girls who are attracted to these careers, but boys are different. Every man has to find a job to make a living." "That's why... oh, we have to turn." Turning into Heathcote Street, there is an open iron gate at the end of the road. Inside are several disused cemeteries in the old city of London that have long lost their original appearance.A lot of space in the cemetery is occupied by the living, and the dead are squeezed into corners.Some tombstones are still standing there, but some have been squeezed to the corner, and the inscriptions on them have long since lost their meaning. Many spaces are filled with asphalt walls and seats.Compared with the old streets we just passed, this place is quite pleasant, especially on this summer afternoon, although the grass is already withered and yellow, the birdsong is also mixed with boarding school children chasing noisy people around the stone chairs and a few remaining tombstones. sound. "Is this the resting place of the Berlinhams?" I said. "Yes. In addition to our family, there are many famous graves here. Richard Cromwell Richard Cromwell (Righard Cromwell), the leader of the British bourgeois revolution in the seventeenth century, politician and military The eldest son of Oliver Cromwell, who succeeded his father, was overthrown and exiled in France because of his lack of ability to govern the country. One of his illegitimate daughters is buried here, and the tombstone is still standing! Have you ever been here?" "No. However, there is a trace of familiarity in this place." I looked around, trying to recall the feeling of deja vu.Suddenly, I saw a house surrounded by a fence raised with a lattice trellis. "That's right," I exclaimed, "I remember! I haven't been here, but I've been to that part of the fence that looks out on the Rue Henrietta, where there used to be an autopsy clinic." College, probably still. I spent my first year of medical school there and did my first human dissection there." "The location of this school is a bit scary." Miss Birlingham trembled. "I used to be alone in the laboratory. I took the key to open the door and went in, and hung the corpses in the sink with iron chains. Now I think it's really scary. At the beginning, the corpses floated in the sink. It was frightening, like the one pictured on some old tombstones: the dead float out of their coffins, the skull of Death crumbled, its javelins broken, its crown crumbling. Our lecturers in anatomy often wore blue apron, like a cannibal." After I finished speaking, I put on a terrified pose, "Aren't you scared?" I asked her with a smile. "No. Every profession has a side that cannot be shown to the layman, or that is hard to tell. For example, when a sculptor is creating in the studio, when you watch him carve images or glue something, you will Mistaking him for a cementer, or a cleaner. Look, this is the grave I mentioned to you." She pointed to a tombstone. We stopped in front of a quaint stone tablet.Perhaps because of the long history, the tombstone has been severely peeled off and weathered, but the inscription is still clearly visible: Anna, daughter of Lord Protector Richard Cromwell, rests here.The very simple language and the body of the stele carry the unique atmosphere of that era.It can't help but remind people of that turbulent era: At that time, this cemetery was still a simple church courtyard.Deafening gunshots are often heard in the quiet alleys around Gray's Law School, and a large army is ambushing in the large green fields and bushes... Villagers dragging all kinds of belongings and horses to flee to the city of London pass this road When I was in the alley, I would often stop here and watch the flames of war through the wall. I stood still, lost in thought.Miss Bellingham looked at me, and went on: "I think we have a lot in common in the way we think." I looked up, a little puzzled. "I noticed the look on your face when you saw that tombstone. You seemed to be very moved, and I was the same. Whenever I see those old stone tablets, especially tombstones, I can't help but stare at the date on them, thinking back All kinds of things in that era. Why can an ordinary stone tablet inspire our imagination so much and make people so moved? Why do you think this is?" Berlinham explained and asked rhetorically. "I think it's because..." I replied while thinking, "Those ancient cemetery steles are extremely private objects, and at the same time they are products of a certain era. When everything around them has changed with the times But when it is changing with each passing day, it is the only one that lives alone and remains unchanged. Can you still be indifferent when you see them accidentally? As for the ordinary tombstones of rural workers or farmers, they come from the rough carving techniques of rural stonemasons and the unpretentiousness of rural scholars The simple poems and proses of your family can often more vividly present the true face of that era than the orthodox inscriptions and ornate and elegant steles of celebrities. Don’t you think? But then again, where is your family’s tombstone?” "In the far corner, but it seems that someone is copying the epitaph there. Oh, what a bad time to come. I hope he can leave quickly, so I can show you there." Following the direction she pointed, I noticed that a person was holding a notebook, browsing a group of ancient tombstones intently, and copying the inscriptions while groping for the engraved characters on them with his fingers. "It's my grandfather's tombstone he's copying," said Miss Burlingham. At this moment, the man suddenly turned around and looked at us.He wears a pair of glasses, and to our surprise, the man turns out to be Mr. Jericho!