The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: The Whitechapel Horrors Read Online Free PDF Page B

gullet had been totally severed, cut right down to the spinal cord. On the left side of the neck, about an inch below the jaw, there was an incision almost four inches long starting at a point immediately below the ear. On the same side, but an inch below, was a second incision, which ended three inches below the right jaw. The main arteries in the throat had been completely cut through.
    “What do you make of these wounds, Watson?”
    Watson bent lower over the body. “From the manner in which the carotid arteries are severed, I would say it was done with an extremely sharp instrument, very sharp indeed. And see here: There are no jagged edges, no torn flesh around the throat. A very neat incision. It could have been done with a razor, or a sharp flensing knife of some sort, or even a scalpel, heaven forbid.”
    “Mr. Llewellyn, the surgeon,” said Thicke, holding a lantern by Watson’s shoulder, “he thinks it could have been a cork-cutter’s blade or a shoemaker’s knife.”
    “I am not all that familiar with either.” Watson shrugged.
    Holmes pointed to the right side of the woman’s neck, just under the ear. “The point of entry, you think?”
    “Hard to say. Perhaps.” Watson looked closer. “Yes, I think you are right. It would appear to be.”
    “Now, look at the bruises here on the face, on the side of the jaw, and on the other side as well. What does that suggest to you?”
    Watson took the lamp from Thicke and held it closer. “Yes, I see what you mean. They could be bruises made by fingers, perhaps — by a thumb and forefinger, as if she were held from behind with the assailant’s hand tightly over her mouth, to suppress a scream no doubt.”
    “Precisely! To suppress a scream and at the same time to pull her head back and bare her throat. Excellent, Watson! And which bruise would you say was made by the thumb?”
    “Well, it is impossible to say for certain, but if I had to choose, I would say the one on the right side of her face, this one here. It seems the bigger of the two.”
    “Excellent again!”
    “What difference could that possibly make, Mr. Holmes?” asked Inspector Abberline.
    “Why, it suggests that our assailant was left-handed, Inspector. It would be quite natural for a left-handed person to grab his victim with his right so as to leave the dominant hand free with which to wield the knife.
    “Oh, I see. Yes, of course.”
    “That is, unless,” said Holmes, “the assailant did not accost her from behind, but — unlikely though it may be — did so facing her, in which case our man is right-handed after all.”
    Abberline sighed heavily.
    Holmes pulled the covering down farther, baring the woman’s torso.
    “Good God!” exclaimed Watson.
    Even though they had been forewarned by Abberline, the extent of the mutilations to the woman’s lower body was horrifying. Holmes and Watson had both seen many corpses over the years — Holmes had been a student of anatomy with what Watson once referred to as “an accurate but unsystematic knowledge” of the subject, and Watson, as an army surgeon, had beheld many terrible wounds — but neither of them had ever seen anything like this. Nor had the two veteran police detectives, if the tightness around their mouths was any indication. 10
    A deep gash, starting in the lower left part of the woman’s abdomen, ran in a jagged manner almost as far as the diaphragm. It was very, very deep, so deep that part of the intestines protruded through the tissue. There were several smaller incisions running across the abdomen, and three or four other cuts running downward on the other side.
    “We identified her from the stencilings on one of her petticoats,”
    Thicke said. “Lambeth Workhouse markings. The only personal articles found in her possession were a broken comb and a piece of broken looking-glass. She hadn’t a farthing to her name.”
    The expression on Holmes’s face was grim, his features strained. “For God’s sake, cover