The Devil's Chord

Chapter Five

Sherlock heaved the luggage bag containing Rebecca Frost’s corpse up onto the table. Transporting her body and the equipment he’d needed down into the wine cellar had been easier than expected. Giles had instructed the red-haired teen to assist him, the same young man who had answered the manor door yesterday and had brought out payment to the cabbie. He was efficient, despite his inane chatter and curious glances at the medical equipment. Sherlock ignored his questions and the young man finally fell silent, proving he wasn’t entirely void of functioning grey matter.

Asher or Ashby, or whatever his name was, plugged in a lamp and aimed it at the soon to be christened autopsy table. Shelves filled with wine bottles organized by year and type stretched out across the room. The back corner of the cellar was the best place for the examination as it was hidden from view from the entryway and the prying eyes of curious servants. He removed his coat, hung it over a nearby chair and rolled up the sleeves of his maroon shirt. The chill air brushed against the bare skin of his forearms.

“Guard the entrance to the cellar. Don’t come in or leave until I instruct you to do so.”

The boy’s face fell. “Won’t you at least tell me what’s in the bag? I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Sherlock drummed long fingers across the tabletop. “There’s a cadaver inside.”

The teen rolled his eyes. “Fine then. Don’t tell me.” He shuffled to the door, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, skinny elbows akimbo. “Nobody ever tells me anything.”

Sherlock smirked as the door slammed shut. After slipping on a pair of nitrile gloves, he unzipped the bag, and gently unfolded Ms. Frost across the table. Her body was a little worn, but he’d seen worse. The crunching noise from earlier had been the sound of her wrist and forearm breaking, crushed at an awkward angle between her knee and chest.

A sharp pair of scissors made quick work of her gown and the silky material parted to pool on either side of her body. Judging by the lack of sutures, the coroner had skipped doing an in depth autopsy altogether. Sherlock ran a hand down her sternum and probed her ribcage. Excellent. There were no signs of additional broken bones.

Unfortunately, the sellotape had proved to be a poor seal and any lingering gases in her lungs had escaped.

Time for plan B. Light glinted off the scalpel as he made a five-inch incision between her sixth and seventh rib. He extracted a sizable sample of lung tissue and divided it among a number of test tubes.

Now for the formaldehyde. He added a few drops to mix with half of the tissue samples and set them aside. The remainder were covered in a solution of sodium hypochlorite. It would take twenty-four hours for the tissue to digest, leaving any chemical residue behind to settle as sediment in the bottom. He sealed the second set of tubes and placed them in the coldest corner of the cellar, hidden behind a 1982 bottle of Chateau Haut Brion Pessac-Lognan. He recalled sampling the French wine years ago, the scent of leather, smoked herbs, and the taste of black currants.

He removed a thin sliver of the now formaldehyde-preserved lung tissue and deposited it onto a glass slide. A drop of hematoxylin and eosin stain followed. Allowing the tissue to absorb the dye, he sandwiched the sample with another slide and slipped it beneath his microscope. The red of the blood vessels and the blue of the terminal bronchiole were simple to spot. He increased the magnification, searching for answers, anomalies.

Scarred tissue spoke of her history of respiratory disease and a few grey spots of pneumonia. There had to be more. He zoomed in even further. The damaged cells now looked enlarged and jagged, as if something had inflamed them.

Sherlock smiled. “You’re becoming more interesting by the minute, Ms. Frost.”

The coroner had been partly correct. Ms. Frost had indeed expired from respiratory failure. However, as Sherlock had deduced, a chemical of some kind had aided in her demise. Pity he had to wait until tomorrow to find out more.