The Salem Witch Society by K. N. Shields Read Free Book Online

postmortem physicians, a Dr. Bond, opined that the killer didn’t have even the technical skill of a butcher or a horse slaughterer.”
    “I was only joking, of course,” Lean said.
    Grey turned his attention back to the body. “What about the two cuts to the torso?”
    “Probably the same instrument was used,” Dr. Steig said.
    There were two long cuts upon the young woman’s chest. The first ran from below the neck down to her abdomen, ending above and to the left of her navel. The second wound began above her right breast and sloped down to the left. The result was an imperfect, slanted cross sliced into her torso.
    “From the angle I’d say he was close to her and on her right, slashing away from himself,” Grey said. “And again, with her already dead, there would be minimal splatter.”
    “Yes, particularly from these cuts. Strictly superficial wounds,” Dr. Steig said.
    Lean pondered that last bitof information. “Then why cut her at all? She’s already dead. And they’d be deep wounds if they were struck in anger.”
    “Clearly our killer was not swept up by emotions. Like everything else at the scene, these wounds were calculated,” Grey said.
    Lean asked, “Was she assaulted, Doctor?”
    “No apparent wounds to the generative organs. No signs that a sexual act was even attempted. No rips or tears on any of the garments. Nothing out of the ordinary there.”
    “I’d say that fact itself is out of the ordinary, given her line of work,” Lean said.
    “But the penetration of the flesh with the pitchfork, the cutting between the exposed breasts,” Grey said. “Possible indications of a violent, sexual motive.”
    “Doubt it,” Lean said. “She remained dressed below the waist. Skirt, petticoat, chemise, the whole lot still on.”
    “Perhaps he meant to attempt the act, but the watchman, still reeling from the effects of his drugging, stumbled in and ended the proceedings too early.”
    “Pssh,” Lean snorted. “She was dead already—” Understanding flashed into his mind, and he groaned. “Must you make this any more revolting than it already is?”
    “I cannot make this anything,” Grey said. “The facts exist as they are. We can only reveal the truth, and that is exactly what we must do, no matter how disturbing it may be. I’m merely pointing out that we have not yet established a motive. And while the lack of an assault, as well as some of the other details, speak against the attack’s being sexually motivated, it would be premature to eliminate some depraved carnal design.”
    Lean’s dumbfounded look revealed his struggle to take in the full measure of what the man was saying.
    “I assume you are not familiar with Krafft-Ebing’s research,” Grey said.
    “A friend of yours?”
    Grey smirked. “That such conduct may be inexplicable to you, or to society in general, does not make it impossible. We mustn’t lose sight of the fact that in all probability we are dealing with a highly disturbed individual.”
    “I’m being reminded of that fact more and more.”
    “You may not be far off the mark, Grey,” Dr. Steig said. “Look at her right rib cage.”
    The dark layer of driedblood that covered much of the torso was smeared away in a roughly circular patch two inches in diameter around a large, molelike protrusion.
    “A witch’s tit,” declared Lean after examining the odd bump of skin.
    Dr. Steig pointed with his scalpel. “Teeth marks in the smeared area. Like he was—”
    “Suckling at it.” Grey reached for a magnifying glass from the tray of surgical instruments and examined the bloodied skin surrounding the dark protuberance. “We should prepare a cast for teeth marks. No facial hairs deposited here by the killer.”
    “I did remove two separate hairs from above. They were plastered into the blood on the rib cage. Too long and fine for a beard. Both appear black.”
    “The watchman scared him off, so he had no time to clean himself up,” said Lean.