Royce then lifted the head with a hand and felt about the neck itself. “Ah, yes. There.” He nodded. “Just as I suspected. The second cervical vertebra is broken. This occurs when severe force is applied, such as when a trapdoor opens beneath the condemned man’s feet and his weight falls into the noose, snapping the neck.” He laid the head back down. “There are no doubt inward compression fractures with outside periosteal tears and sometimes antero-posterior compression fractures with inside periosteal tears.”
All of those words were foreign sounding, and she had no idea what they meant, but it was lovely to hear him utter them. How intelligent Royce must be to know the names of bones within the body! How many hours of study he must have completed to gain that information? From his admission of learning that erotic poem, he’d had access to textbooks and treatises done in the original Latin. It was staggering how clever he was.
“Even though it’s obvious, an attending physician would check for the broken neck bones even if all the evidence points to strangulation by hanging.” Royce took up the knife with its wicked-looking blade. “I’ll use a scalpel to cut into the soft tissue of our corpse and we’ll see what’s to be had inside.”
Several of the men strained forward as the doctor inserted the tip of the silver blade into the midsection. The other woman present whimpered with alarm.
Isobel stopped short of rolling her eyes. Stiff upper lip, madam. It’s not as if he’s killing the man.
“As you can see from a visual examination, the abdomen is distended. This could happen over the natural course of a body decaying, but it can also be a sign of malnutrition or starvation.”
Isobel kept her handkerchief tightly pressed to her nose and mouth, but her eyes remained glued to the bizarre tableau before her. Royce’s hand was steady as he made a long vertical cut on the midsection. Then he made a horizontal cut. Once finished, he used what he called forceps to peel back the skin of the corpse. The stench in the air intensified. Several of the men nearby had perspiration building on their upper lips and foreheads. At that point, the duchess nearly swooned. One of the servants ushered her quickly from the room. The other woman held her ground, but from the way her hand shook as she clutched her handkerchief, it wouldn’t be long before she exited as well. Though Isobel’s stomach pitched, she ignored the discomfort as best she could, for how often would she see this again in her lifetime?
Once the corpse had been essentially opened, Royce felt around in the cavity. His gloves were hopelessly covered with blood and other disgusting bits. “Ah, yes.” He delved his scalpel into the body. Seconds later he hoisted something quite foul out of the remains. Blood and gore clung to his gloves. “This is Mr. Smythe’s liver. It’s not as exceptional as it could be.” He held up the dark red offal organ that resembled a piece of raw meat Isobel had seen once in the country after a hawk had dismembered a rabbit. “During a malnutrition event, every organ in the body shrinks to about half its original size. Every organ except for the brain. That only shrinks by two to four percent.”
His knowledge and expertise astounded her. Though she’d rather not look upon the body or its organs, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the man who spoke with such authority and dare she say joy in his work? Her respect and admiration for him went up.
Royce replaced the liver. “Right here is the stomach.” He indicated the area with his scalpel, but it was difficult to see from her vantage point. “The reason for the swollen abdomen.” He raised his gaze to encompass his audience. “It is important to understand that in malnourishment, the rounded abdomen is not due to fat accumulation, as many physicians insist. I’ve seen this issue too many times in my patients. Instead, the water retention and fluid buildup in the body cause the abdomen to expand. This results in a bloated, distended stomach or abdominal area.” Carefully and methodically, he put the pulled back skin flaps into place. “It’s safe to say that Mr. Smythe didn’t eat with any regularity. Was this the factor that drove him to a life of violent crime? Only he could tell you, but he is but one story that makes up the layers of London.”
How extremely sad, and it drove home the point of the huge class divide that operated throughout England.
Applause echoed through the room as Royce replaced the sheet over the body leaving bloody fingerprints behind on the cloth.
“Well done, Doctor Marsden, and how fascinating.” The duke was quite a jovial person as he came back to the front of the room. “Now, perhaps we should let the footmen remove poor Mr. Smythe while we gather in the library and away from the foul odors in here.”
As one, the company exited the room with more haste than finesse.
Isobel threw a glance at William, who looked at her with a frown and speculation. She shrugged and mouthed, “I’ll be there in a moment.”
He nodded and finally left the drawing room. On his way out, two footmen entered with a wooden ladder between them. As they bundled the body onto the ladder, Royce dropped his instruments into a bucket that rested at his feet. His gloves followed. While the footmen carried the body from the room, the doctor removed his apron, and it too was put into the wooden bucket. A maid darted into the room to take possession of the bucket.
“Please be sure to burn the fabrics and soak the instruments in boiling water for several minutes before cleaning, and then boil them again,” he told the young woman.
“Of course, Doctor. I’ll tell the housekeeper.”
When he glanced up and his gaze alighted upon Isobel, he grinned. “I’m uncommonly happy to see you. What did you think about this evening, Miss Storme?”
“I’ll be honest, I hope I’ll not have cause to think about what I’ve seen tonight again.” Her laughter sounded forced. She couldn’t wrap her brain around the fact the murderer hadn’t enough food to eat. Did he have a family? People he cared for? Were they on the verge of starvation too? That last thought brought tears to her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. “That being said, I’m slightly in awe of you.”
“Oh? You’ll need to tell me more, but please do so outside. I need to give my hands and arms a good washing. A doctor’s work is rather messy business.” He led the way across the room and through the open doorway to the terrace where yet another wooden bucket waited. “We’re finding more and more evidence that keeping one’s hands clean while performing surgeries, setting bones, or even general medical tasks cuts down on the patient contracting an infection.”
“It’s so fascinating, what you do. You’re a veritable scientist along with how you save lives.”
“I don’t know if I’d say that.” His humbleness was adorable.
A stab of envy went through her chest while he squatted at the bucket and plunged his hands into the water. “Compared to your skills, I’m quite a superfluous member of society. Nothing that I’ve done up until this point matters in the grand scheme.” It was true. She did absolutely nothing in the way of charitable causes or helping people.
“I wouldn’t say that. Everyone on this planet serves a purpose and provides joy for another.”
Isobel snorted. She sincerely doubted that, but the longing she’d carried around in her chest for years intensified. “That’s sweet of you to say. I couldn’t bear to see pain or suffering on a daily basis like you do.”
“I agree, it’s something not many people wish to do. The education and study alone are staggering, and there’s always something new to learn.” He grabbed a cake of soap that gave off a strong odor. “I like to think of it as a gift.” As he scrubbed the soap over his forearms and hands, he continued to look at her. “Why do you wrinkle your nose like that?”
“What is that smell?” Granted, it was more pleasant than the decaying body, but it was quite pungent.
Royce’s laughter reverberated in her chest and set off several flutters in her belly. “It’s a mixture of tea tree oil, which was originally discovered in Australia by Captain James Cook and then brought to England for it cleaning properties as well as protecting against infection. It also contains eucalyptus oil for the same.” For long moments, he worked at his task. He paid strict attention to his hands and cleaning beneath the nails. Eventually, he washed off the soap and then stood, grabbing a clean rag that rested to one side of the bucket. “I make certain I buy many cakes of the stuff for my clinic and home.”
“I don’t blame you, and from what little I understand of physicians, that sets you apart from many of them.” She didn’t know how to explain it, but watching Royce as he’d worked, seeing him take such time and care into cleaning himself, and now talking with him alone on the terrace all worked to send awareness for him trembling over her skin. There was something all too heady about seeing someone excel in their chosen profession.