Chapter 2 Chapter Two Autopsy Interrogation

Small images in a vast mystery are the basis for events to emerge. For several minutes, I felt slightly dizzy from the sudden exposure to sunlight streaming in through the window.The contrasting images before my eyes assaulted my consciousness, causing me to fall into the double personality phenomenon caused by the overuse of ether years ago.Back then, I seemed to be living two very different lives at the same time: in two very different places, experiencing two different events.Now my thoughts, too, split into two disjointed tracks: the splendid house, the exquisite furniture, the glimmering remnants of yesterday's life—and I see a sheet of music on the open piano, on a lady's fan.These images occupied my whole attention, as did all kinds of different and restless people around me.

Perhaps the turmoil of thought came from this extremely ornate house.The satin-like brilliance, the shining bronze, and the gleam of the marble that can be seen here and there form a series of dazzling lights and shadows.But I prefer to think that this dazzling feeling mainly comes from the agitation of the painting on the opposite wall.A sweet painting - sweet, poetic, fully in keeping with the artist's highest ideals, but also innocent - of a young woman with flaxen hair, shy blue eyes, dressed in royal clothes, standing on a forest path She turned her head and looked at someone who was following her, but in the corners of her docile eyes and baby-like lips, what was quietly revealing was not a complete holiness, but a distinct personality.If it weren't for the openness of the dress—waist to the armpits—just the short hair on the forehead, and the perfect line of the neck and shoulders, I'd have thought it was a portrait of some lady in the room.Still, I couldn't help imagining Mr. Leavenworth's niece, looking at me like this bewildered blonde, with beckoning eyes and outstretched hands.The vividness of this whimsy made me tremble a little, and I even wondered whether this beautiful person in the painting really didn't know what kind of tragedy happened in this house after yesterday's joy; if she knew, why could she still be so attractive? standing there smiling?Suddenly, I realized that I was deep in thought, oblivious to the people around me.In the crowd there was the stern, shrewd, and attentive coroner, whose nobility impressed upon me as much as the picture of a beautiful woman, or like the angular, more aristocratic statue of the goddess Psyche, From the crimson window on his right bloomed softly and gracefully.Even the jury gathered before my eyes--members of different faces, but all the same ordinary.There were also excited servants, trembling, gathered in a far corner.Even more out of place is the picture of a pale, rat-headed reporter sitting at a small desk, writing with ghoul-eater-like enthusiasm that gave me goosebumps.These characters are one by one in the luxurious scene in front of my eyes, and the surrounding gorgeousness makes their existence even more obtrusive, like a nightmare.

I have just mentioned the coroner.I am not a stranger to him, and I am lucky to have him here.Not only have I met him, I have spoken to him several times and I can say I know him.His name was Hammond, and he was recognized as an eminent man, with considerable acuity and ability to carry out important tests.Since I am so interested in this interrogation, I cannot but be grateful to have such a fine coroner on duty. As for the jurors, as I mentioned earlier, there is nothing personal about them.They were random people from the streets—not counting Fifth and Sixth Avenues.They present the mediocre intelligence and culture of all walks of life in the city, just as you and I meet passengers in the city's cabs.In fact, I saw only one of them who really treated the interrogation as an interrogation, and the rest were merely performing civic duties out of pity or righteous indignation.

The first witness called was Mr. Maynard, the eminent Thirty-sixth Street surgeon.He gave testimony about the characteristics of the wounds of the deceased.Because of the importance of his testimony, I reproduce his words below. He introduced himself first, and then explained how he had been invited by a servant in the house that day.Upon arrival, he found the deceased lying on a bed in a room near the front yard on the second floor, with a pistol wound in the back of the head and blood clotted around the wound.It had apparently been moved from an adjoining room hours after his death.No wounds were found other than a gunshot wound to the back of the head, and further examination revealed the bullet inside the wound, which he removed and will now present to the jury.The bullet was originally left in the head, but the inspection found that the bullet entered from the bottom of the skull, went up obliquely, and then hit the brain, causing instant death.The way the bullet enters is noteworthy, as it not only causes instant death, but also requires no struggle.Moreover, the position and angle of the shot made it impossible to commit suicide, and the condition of the hair around the wound suggested that the muzzle shot should have been about three or four feet away from the wound.After further analysis, the angle at which the bullet entered the skull showed that the deceased was still sitting - it can be seen that there was no dispute between the two parties at that time - and he was still doing some work with his head bowed.Think about it, if the deceased was sitting upright at the time, in order to shoot the bullet at a forty-five-degree angle, not only would the pistol have to be placed very low, but it would have to be in a very special position.But if the deceased's head was already tilted forward, such as in the writing position, then a person holding the pistol in a natural position with elbows bent can easily fire the bullet at this angle.

Asked about Mr Leavenworth's health, he said the deceased was in good health at the time of death, but as he was not the deceased's personal physician, he could not draw conclusions on the matter without further examination.In addition, he responded to a question from a member of the jury stating that he did not find a pistol or other weapon anywhere in any of the aforementioned rooms. I would like to add here what he said later.That is to say, inferring from the relative positions of the table, chairs and the door behind the chairs, if the murderer wants to commit the crime under the conditions of the scene, he must stand on the threshold of the aisle or just strike inside the threshold.In addition, due to the small size of the bullet and the spiral rifling inside the barrel, the route is easy to twist when passing through the skull and skull shell. Obviously, the victim did not try to raise his head or turn his head when he was murdered. The path is so straight.Based on this, an astonishing conclusion was drawn, the footsteps were familiar to the deceased, and the appearance of that person in the room was expected by the deceased, and perhaps the deceased had known that he was there.

At the end of the physician's testimony, the coroner took the bullet from the table before him, rubbed it between his fingers, pondered, then took a pen from his pocket, scribbled a line or two on paper, and then Summoned a police officer to his side and whispered a few words.The constable picked up the note, glanced at it quickly in understanding, took his hat and left the room.As soon as the gate closed behind him, there was a wild cry from the urchin-like crowd in the front yard.He could be seen making his way through the crowd to the street.Sitting in my seat, I can clearly see the scene around the corner.I looked out and saw the officer standing there, hailing a cab, getting into it, and disappearing down Broadway.

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