The Castlemaine Murders by Kerry Greenwood Read Free Book Online Page A

Dr Treasure. ‘There is no Y incision but one cut along the right side of the abdomen, here closed with stitches. This is where the viscera were removed. And the brain . . . but you already know about that.’
    Professor Ayers coughed and continued: ‘I presume that his abdomen was washed out with eucalyptus oil—there is still a faint scent of it about him—quite a good substitute for cypress oil. Then the body was stuffed to keep its shape.’
    ‘What did they stuff it with?’ asked Jane, agog.
    ‘That we shall presently see,’ promised Professor Ayers, almost smiling. Jane was proving an education for Professor Ayers. ‘The Egyptians used rolls of linen, sawdust, any rubbish that was hanging around. The body was then laid in dry natron for seventy days.’
    ‘As Herodotus says,’ prompted Jane.
    ‘So after the poor helpless body was gutted, stuffed and salted like a fish, what did they do with it?’ asked Phryne. The scent of linseed oil and leather was giving her highly inappropriate memories of a cricketer to whom she had been very close. Extremely close. In the pavilion, if she remembered correctly. Before a county match. Thinking of sex in association with this human wreck she considered improper.
    ‘After desiccation it was washed in wine—here I believe they used turpentine—and then anointed with resin and bandaged. Here we see no bandages or amulets but I believe my thesis is sound.’
    ‘So do I,’ said Dr Treasure.
    ‘There’s a mark on his forearm,’ said Jane. ‘Here.’
    ‘You’ve got good eyes!’ exclaimed Professor Ayers rather enviously. ‘Take the glass, Miss Jane. What can you see?’
    ‘A bruise? No, wait, it’s all colours,’ replied Jane excitedly. ‘I don’t suppose, Professor, you could just call me Jane? I’m not used to being called Miss. I’m just Jane.’
    Ayers unbent. His previous experience of children of the female persuasion (loud, vain, greedy) had not prepared him for eager, intelligent, educated Jane.
    ‘Very well. Colours? What do you make of it then . . . er, Jane?’
    ‘It’s a tattoo, isn’t it?’ she asked. She looked into his face for signs of agreement. Not, Phryne thought, for approval.
    ‘I believe that it may be,’ said Ayers. He took the glass and bent over the twisted forearm. ‘Chinese, I think. The Chinese have always done the best tattoos. Much superior in application and artistry than the crude western ones in harsh blue ink. Well, Treasure? Don’t be shy. Show the ladies your illumination.’
    Blushing, Dr Treasure rolled up his sleeve. There was a fish on his upper arm. Jane took the glass and examined it minutely. So did Phryne.
    ‘Where did you get it?’ she asked.
    ‘Hong Kong. In my uproarious youth I was the doctor on a cruise ship. I don’t show it to just anyone, you know. Some fellows consider tattooing to be rather low. I wouldn’t have it done now, of course, but with tattoos there must be no regrets, for they’re perfectly indelible. Isn’t it pretty?’
    ‘Gorgeous,’ said Phryne truthfully. It was a carp, all floating fins, done in delicate etchings of orange, gold and black. She tore her lascivious mind away from wondering if the rest of Dr Treasure matched the muscular and lightly tanned arm and considered the tattoo on the mummy.
    It was some sort of crest or coat of arms. The shape made this clear. Two supporters of a fish-tailed kind, then a quartered shield topped with a helmeted head. The plumes had survived intact, as had the tails of the mermen (if they were mermen), but the shield was stained, or perhaps the flesh under it had been bruised. Heraldry had never interested Phryne, but she knew her sister Eliza had made a close study of it. Eliza knew Debrett’s Peerage almost by heart. Phryne found a pencil and tried to sketch the design exactly as she could see it.
    It was blurred. Ayers finally shook his sleek head and rubbed his eyes. ‘No, I can’t make out any more. I have a friend who has been