The Cruelest Cut Read Online Free PDF Page B

Carmodi said to Liddell.
    Ignoring Carmodi’s remark, Jack said to Liddell, “Call dispatch again and see if anyone’s reported a missing kid.”
    â€œI just got off the phone with them, pod’na,” Liddell answered.
    â€œWell, then try the shift commander,” Jack said angrily. “Are those guys checking the schools?”
    Liddell nodded his head. “I talked to him right before I called dispatch. No one has a missing kid.”
    â€œWell, someone’s missing a kid!”
    Liddell put a big hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You okay?”
    Jack looked at the body on the table. The boy was about ten or twelve years old. No one knew he was dead except the cops. No, he wasn’t okay, but he lied through his teeth, “Yeah. I’m just great.” To Carmodi, Jack said, “Sorry, Doc. I’ve been off work a while.”
    Carmodi shrugged and pulled on latex gloves. He was used to cops. Some of them joked, some cried, and some got angry. It was a way to deal with the stress of the job. It was like a pressure release valve, and a good thing to have. If you couldn’t let it out, the things these guys saw in their careers would make most people blow their brains out. Actually, he’d done autopsies on a couple of those.
    Two crime scene techs were busy snapping digital photos while Carmodi and his assistant turned the body onto its side to remove the body bag from underneath. Having done that, he began removing the muddy clothing.
    Jack had been to several hundred autopsies, but this was the part he hated most. Stripping the clothing from a dead body was dehumanizing in a way that nothing else could be. As a policeman, he was supposed to protect people, and in death, a person was at their most helpless. Although, in his rational mind, he knew he couldn’t save everyone, he always experienced a personal sense of failure that he had not kept the person safe.
    He forced himself to look, to pay attention, to discover any clues, as Carmodi and the assistant prepared the body to be dissected. He wanted to scream at them to stop and just bury the poor kid. Instead, feeling like a pure bastard, he pulled on some gloves and searched the mud-stiffened clothing as it was removed.
    Carmodi and his assistant turned the body onto its back. The autopsy table is almost seven feet in length, and slightly tilted toward a huge stainless-steel sink with a filter on the sink trap. A microphone is suspended over each of the three stainless-steel autopsy tables, and the forensic pathologist can start recording by simply stepping on a foot pedal. Carmodi stepped on the pedal and spoke into the mike, saying the date, time, and location of the autopsy, as well as his own name and those of everyone present during the procedure.
    â€œThe body appears to be that of a young white male, age approximately eleven years old…”
    And so the autopsy began. After giving the overall description of the body, Carmodi instructed the assistant to help him wash the body clean. A length of hose was coiled under the sink, and the assistant used this to start washing the mud and other detritus from the body to enable closer examination. The mud was washed away from the face and neck, revealing a considerable cut running down the neck and chest, continuing into the abdomen.
    A crime scene tech snapped high-resolution digitals of the wound while Carmodi spoke into the microphone again. After the dictation was finished, he spoke to Jack and Liddell. “Almost took the boy’s head off.”
    â€œCan you put that in layman’s terms, Doc?” Liddell said and chuckled.
    Carmodi was about to respond when he noticed Jack fingering the scar on his own neck. “It’s no contest, Jack. His is bigger than yours.”
    Jack shot him an angry look and was about to respond to his callous remark, but Liddell put a hand on his shoulder.
    â€œJack, I got this. Go back to the scene if you