Gift Wrapped Read Online Free PDF

probable appearance. The process takes just a few minutes now; it used to take weeks by slowly building up layers of plasticine on a cast of the skull.’ She looked again upon the length of the skeleton. ‘I see nothing at all that might help you identify him in terms of significant appearance; there is no damage to one of his legs that would cause him to walk with a limp, for example. One of his arms, say, is not shorter than the other. He had fully formed hands and feet. So ... unless toxicology comes back with reports of arsenic or other heavy poisons, which in this day and age is unlikely, I think we have a gentleman in his early middle years who was smashed over the head with a blunt object and then had a thin metal object, possibly a file, as we said, thrust powerfully between his ribs and reaching his heart. It would definitely have killed him if the blow to the head did not.’
    â€˜How long ago do you think he was killed?’ Hennessey asked.
    â€˜You should know better than to ask that question by now, Mr Hennessey,’ Dr D’Acre smiled reproachfully, ‘but I confess I did like the other CID officer’s ...’
    â€˜DC Webster?’
    â€˜Yes. I did like his observation about the oak tree roots, how they had wrapped round the skeleton rather than pushing through it ... and the trees themselves seem to be about ten years old. It means that the body was buried, more or less, within about three years, at the same time the trees were planted. If the body had been completely skeletal when the trees were planted the roots would have grown between the ribs, but when the roots reached the body they came across an impenetrable substance and grew round it. So we discovered a skeleton embraced by tree roots. He was buried close to the time that the trees were planted, minus two or three years, and the trees did indeed seem to be about ten years old.’
    â€˜Thank you.’ Hennessey nodded. ‘That gives us a very useful time window to work with, and a likely cause of death and also sufficient information to trawl through our missing persons files looking for a possible match. That’s easily good enough to be going on with.’
    â€˜Thank you for working late, Eric.’ Dr D’Acre turned to Eric Filey.
    Filey inclined his head and said, ‘Six forty-five, ma’am – that’s not late,’ and by doing so, once again demonstrated a generosity of spirit which Hennessey had also observed during previous post-mortems. Hennessey had liked the young man upon meeting him and had, over the years, continued to do so.
    â€˜We’ll get back to you with the deceased’s DNA profile as soon as we can; if you can trace a living blood relative that will confirm his identity.’ Dr D’Acre returned her attention to George Hennessey.
    â€˜Thank you,’ Hennessey replied. ‘As you say, that will settle the issue of his identity very nicely.’
    â€˜It should be with you tomorrow, along with the facial reconstruction,’ Dr D’Acre added.
    George Hennessey left the low rise, slab-sided sixties building that was the York District Hospital and walked across the car park in the mild early evening air towards Wiggington Road. As he walked his eyes were drawn to a highly polished red and white Riley, circa 1947, and once again he found himself pondering the large size of the car with its graceful lines and yet, by the standards of motor cars built in the early twenty-first century, it had a very cramped interior into which passengers had to step up into, rather than lower themselves down into. Ah, but, he further pondered, great compensation was to be derived from the vehicle – the rich leather upholstery, the solid wooden dashboard, the long bonnet, the envious glances of other motorists and pedestrians, the strong camaraderie of the jolly fellow owners at the Riley Owners Club musters, and even now the car was still a comfortable ride