by Anne Wingate
But you have to do it right. Here's how:
1. Use the best library accessible to you, and look up all you can find (within reason) about whatever the question is.
2. From your reading, or from common sense, determine who is likely to be the most convenient expert on that topic. Be cautious! Some people claim expertise in subjects they are not in fact experts in. (I am a fingerprint expert. I am not a firearms expert. I asked many questions about firearms in the course of writing this book.)
3. Formulate a list of intelligent questions.
4. Telephone the expert.
5. Introduce yourself and ask whether this is a convenient time to talk.
6. If it is not, ask when you may call back.
7. When you reach your expert with time to talk, ask your questions.
8. Don't stick so rigidly to those questions that you don't follow a lead the expert gives you that opens up something you hadn't thought of. But don't ramble all over the universe; experts are busy people.
9. Thank your expert, and ask permission to call again if you come to a point you don't understand.
Of course it works—and almost always, your expert will not only be delighted to tell you but will even look up information for you. As I write this, I am extremely grateful to Utah gunsmith Mark McComb for spending hours looking up names of modern manufacturers of single-shot revolvers, after I read a book that said nobody manufactures single-shot revolvers anymore. (And this is an example of being careful about our experts. The guy who wrote the book was fairly up on firearms. But Mark makes them, repairs them, sells them, and loves them. He was the real expert.)
Why are these experts so happy to talk to you? Look at it this way: You become an expert only on something that interests you. If it interests you, you not only want to learn about it, you also want to talk about it. So you talk about it, and talk about it, and talk about it, until all those around you are sick of hearing about it.
And now what happens? Some fresh new person calls and actually wants you to talk about your pet topic! It's terrific!
How would you feel, if you were the expert?
That's how they feel. Not one in a thousand will grouch at you or want to charge you for the advice—and if you do get a grouch, that's all right. Start looking for another expert.
Now, as in 1934, identification of a corpse may present extreme difficulty. In one case I worked, a transient who had been in the habit of sleeping in a storeroom where volatile oils were stored accidentally set the oils afire. The body was burned beyond recognition; the only thing I could tell for certain was that the victim's left and right ears were distinctly different in size and the smaller ear was set somewhat higher on the head than the larger. The transient, whose name we knew, seemed the most likely person to have burned to death in the fire. I went to talk with the transient's brother and eventually, reluctantly, took the brother to view the remains.
The brother was adamant that his brother had not had any difference in the size of his ears, and therefore this could not be his brother.
I spent the better part of the next week checking out all possible leads as to who else could have been sleeping there and where the missing man was if he was not in fact in the morgue. But every lead brought me back to the same place. Arrest photos of the transient were useless, as they showed his full face and one profile but not the other, and the full face was not adequate to determine differences in ears.
I kept looking, and finally found one photograph in which a new technician had taken the wrong profile for a mug shot—so finally I had two photographs, one of the left side of the head and one of the right, to lay side by side. I took them back to the brother, showing him irrefutable evidence that his brother's ears were indeed somewhat mismatched.
Staring at the photos, he said, "I'll be damned! You know, I never had noticed that before."
And at last, our corpse had a name.
The Condition of the Remains
That one was hard enough. But what about cases in which all identification points —handprints, footprints, ears, facial features — have been completely removed, either deliberately to prevent identification, or simply as a result of advanced decomposition?
Many corpses, many skeletons, are never identified. But science continues to close in on even the most difficult cases.
At this point, I want to warn readers that some of the contents of this chapter will be offensive to those with weak stomachs. When you are writing fiction, you can decide how graphic or how vague you want to be. But I have the responsibility to tell you what really happens, what things really look like and smell like. If you're not sure of the stability of your stomach, do not eat while reading.
Beyond Identification
Bear in mind, also, that what I have said in this book about determining the cause of death is no more than scratching the surface. For a far more definitive study aimed at writers rather than at pathologists, I recommend Keith Wilson's Cause of Death, Writer's Digest Books, 1992.
Identification is not the only thing that must be done about a corpse, and in many cases identification falls rather late in the process. So let's start from the beginning. We have a corpse. Or we have a skeleton. Or we have bone fragments that might eventually, if we're lucky, add up to a skeleton. What do we do? In what order?
Where to Start?
Always—always —always—the first thing we do is take photographs and measurements—that triangulation we spoke of in chapter one. Note the body position: Is it face up? Face down? Hands drawn in toward the body? Hands extended, or stretched out above the body? In the case of a fire, very often the arms are bent at the elbows, hands clenched into fists, as if the person were in a defensive position in a boxing match. This, called the pugilist position, frequently is assumed by the unknowledgeable to mean the person was trying to fight an assailant; in fact, it has to do with the contraction of muscles as a result of the heat, and has no further meaning.
Cadaveric Spasm
In the case of violent death not involving a fire, here are some things to look for: Is anything in the hands? In the case of absolutely instantaneous death when the muscles were in work at the time of death, the body may go into an instant cadaveric spasm, which precedes, and may be mistaken for, ordinary rigor mortis; indeed, some pathologists maintain that it is an unusual instant rigor mortis. In this case, whatever the person was holding at the time of death is clutched permanently-and if you're lucky, that might be part of the hair or clothing of the assailant.
A Suicide That Was: Cadaveric Spasm
I was called about midnight. Her husband, a petty gangster, was in a rage, fighting like a wild thing; he didn't want any pictures taken, and it took several strong male officers to hold him as I went by with my camera to enter their beautiful, very expensive house. She was in a locked bedroom, and again, it took several of us to break the door down and find her lying on her bed, the pistol still pressed to her head. She was in a cadaveric spasm; it took three of us to pry her hand open to remove the pistol.
She'd been making chocolate chip cookies earlier in the day, before she and her husband began quarreling. Some of the cookies had been set out on the table to cool, and others were still stuck to the pan, where she had left them when the shouting began. Her son, who had left the house when the quarreling started and returned when he saw police cars converging, was in the living room crying, and I tried to talk with him to no avail.
It wasn't until years later, when he and his aunt were living in the same apartment complex I was and his father was in prison on a totally unrelated charge, that I learned the boy sincerely believed that his father had murdered his mother and the police just hadn't figured that out. I explained to the aunt, and asked her to explain to the boy, that the position of the pistol, and the cadaveric spasm, made it absolutely impossible for anybody but the victim herself to have fired the fatal shot.
I don't know whether it helped him or not. But he had only one parent left ali
ve, and no matter what his father had in fact done, there was no reason to let him go through life believing his father guilty of that one crucial crime he hadn't committed.
Unusual Coloration of the Body
You already know to look for the color and type of the clothing, but what about any unusual coloration of the skin? Most people are aware that carbon monoxide poisoning will turn the skin on a white person a bright cherry red; although this coloration might be less visible on a person with darker skin, it can still be noted in areas that are normally light in color, such as the palms of the hands, the soles of the feet, various mucus membrane surfaces in the mouth and other places. Other conditions might cause other unusual colorations. Note this as carefully as you can in your notes, and don't count on a photograph to show it: Very few color films are able to show such subtle gradations in color.
Defense Wounds and Hesitation Wounds
Are there defense wounds? In a knife murder, almost always the hands, particularly the area between the wrist and the little finger, will have multiple cuts, usually parallel, stretching from the little finger to the wrist and sometimes above the wrist, caused by the victim's attempts to ward off the knife. Sometimes a gunshot victim at close range will show one or more defense wounds if s/he attempted to grab the muzzle of the gun at the time it was firing.
Is there a question whether it is suicide or murder? If it involves slashed wrists or throat, check for hesitation cuts. Very few people will commit suicide with one slash; there are almost always several
small hesitation cuts while the person was working on his or her nerve. A lack of hesitation wounds is likely—though certainly not definite—evidence of murder.
Other Visible Marks
What other visible wounds and marks are there? If there are no more than one or two wounds, photographs and measurements may be adequate by themselves. But I have seen victims of multiple stab wounds in which it was necessary, after the body was adequately cleaned, to lay a piece of tracing paper over the body and mark the location of each wound.
If it is a stabbing and you have a suspect weapon, never attempt to fit the knife into the wound. Let the medical examiner (or whoever does the postmortem examination) decide whether this knife could have made this wound. Bear in mind that if the wound looks very slightly smaller than the weapon, that does not always rule out the weapon; the skin stretches. (This applies to gunshots also. A .38-caliber bullet does not always leave what looks like a .38-caliber entry wound. The exit wound is another matter; it may look like a .45 or a shotgun, depending on what happened to the bullet inside the body.)
Was the shooting at close range? If so, there will be powder tattooing, and possibly even visible grains of powder or burns from the muzzle flash, on the skin and/or the clothing.
Spontaneous Human Combustion
And what about spontaneous human combustion — that is, cases reported in Fate magazine and various Fortean books and tabloids in which a living person suddenly, without warning, bursts into flame? Scientists say that it does not occur; other people insist they have witnessed it, and scientists do not seem to be able to adequately explain away situations in which the body is burnt to ashes but nothing else in the room, except perhaps the chair or bed on which the remains are lying, is even singed. Even less can they explain cases in which the remains are on a street or sidewalk and witnesses insist they saw the person burst into flames.
I never saw a case of spontaneous human combustion. But many people with no apparent reason to lie insist they have seen it. And I can't help remembering that for many hundreds of years scientists insisted stones could not fall from the sky, while common people went right on seeing meteors turn into meteorites.
I doubt I'll ever want to use spontaneous human combustion in my fiction; I couldn't get away with it. But on the other hand, I couldn't get away with having my villain eaten by the Loch Ness Monster's cousin, although it was a perfect denouement when Gladys Mitchell did it. So if you want to use spontaneous human combustion, be my guest. I'm not going to say it doesn't happen. Just be sure you're writing a book in which you can get away with that kinky an idea.
Postmortem Lividity
Postmortem lividity confuses people who have never before seen a corpse except at a funeral, after it has been cleaned up. Briefly, this is what it means.
At the time of death, the blood, which has been flowing, ceases to flow. Slowly, it pools in the lowermost parts of the body, causing them gradually to assume a deep purplish-red color (or, in the case of carbon monoxide poisoning, a cherry-red color). However, portions of the lowermost part of the body that are under great pressure may at the same time bleach out, so that white creases are visible in the midst of the purplish-red color. A novice, seeing these marks, is likely to assume they are the result of severe bruising. But they are not; they are entirely normal. (And my thanks here go to Detective Billy Johnson, who explained this to me in great detail the first time I saw it.)
This lividity may begin to appear as early as twenty minutes after death or as late as four hours; it is usually complete within about twelve hours. Thus, it is a rather poor indicator of time of death. But it has other uses.
If, when the body is found, the postmortem lividity is consistent with the present body position, it means nothing, except that its degree should be noted, as it may help later a little bit in determining how long the body has been dead. But there is another little peculiarity: postmortem lividity occurs and then does not change. This means that if the body has been in one position for several hours, and then is moved, the lividity will indicate the original position, not the new one. This may be of great help in determining where and in what position the body originally fell or was placed.
Rigor Mortis
And what about rigor mortis—the extreme stiffness which follows death, such that it may take several strong people to change the position of the body? It is not true that the medical examiner—or the experienced officer—can glance at the body, assess the extent of rigor mortis, and determine at once how long the body has been dead. You've already heard of cadaveric spasm, which seems to be — or perhaps is—instant rigor mortis. But other things affect timing. I've seen the body of a previously vigorous and healthy man who'd scarcely begun rigor mortis after eighteen hours; I've seen total rigor mortis in the body of an emaciated crib-death baby who'd definitely been alive two hours before I saw her.
Normally rigor mortis begins within two to six hours and is complete within another two to six hours. "Rigidity ... begins to develop in the muscles of the face, jaw, upper extremities, trunk and lower extremities, appearing in about the sequence mentioned ..." (Gonzales 56). Prior to rigor mortis, some muscles relax; typically the jaw drops open. However, the eyes normally remain open. (Among other things, this means that the only time an expression on the face of the corpse would be readable —if then—would be in the case of cadaveric spasm, as the muscular relaxation that characteristically precedes rigor mortis would smooth out even the most horrified of expressions. Why do I mention this? Reread The Hound of the Baskervilles for the horrified expression on the corpse of the last of the Baskervilles. Yes, I did it, too, in Too Sane a Murder, and you are welcome to continue to describe the expression on the corpse. Just be aware it wouldn't really be there.)
Rigor mortis normally lasts, after becoming complete, for about twenty-four to forty-eight hours, leaving in the same order in which it began. In general, rigor mortis in a physically strong person will begin faster and last longer than rigor mortis in a weak or emaciated person, which begins later and lasts a much shorter time. In a hot location as opposed to one with a moderate temperature, rigor mortis begins faster and ends faster; in a very cold location, rigor mortis begins faster but ends far more slowly, and at times it may be impossible to distinguish between rigor mortis and frozen remains.
Body Temperature
Body temperature may not be a very good indicator of time of death. Even under normal conditions, loss of
body heat is not a constant,
but rather a function of such things as the body temperature at the time of death, the ambient air temperature, and the weight of the body and the person's normal health before death. It may be greatly affected by lying in the sun, lying in a cold room, or by the cause of death; in fact, in the case of violent, painful death—especially prolonged painful death—the core body temperature may continue to rise for up to an hour after death.
In an unattended death in which the body is found intact and fairly promptly, if the first technician who arrives puts an anal thermometer in the body and puts a room thermometer in the room, checking both after half an hour, some indication of time of death may be derived — except that if the death is at all suspicious, the use of the anal thermometer would disturb the crime scene, causing more problems than a possible body temperature might solve. An oral thermometer in this situation is quite useless, as the mouth temperature after death does not reflect the core body temperature, whereas an anal temperature at least might. I've been told that in some jurisdictions, the medical examiner's investigators will make a small puncture in the abdomen and insert the thermometer there. Although that would certainly provide a correct core body temperature, it seems to me that it could also confuse later investigation. I would not do it myself. But you decide what your investigators do — or check with your coroner's office or medical examiner's office to find out what is really done in your jurisdiction.
Motion May Continue
In some situations, it seems that the nerves remain responsive to the last message sent by the brain long after the person is actually dead. Gonzales tells of a man whose myocardium (part of the heart muscle) continued to beat, although the rest of the heart did not, when the body was actually well into rigor mortis. I personally saw a man whose lungs continued to work for half an hour after his brain was blasted out of his skull by a shotgun. Very early in this century,
