stood guard outside the morgue. When he opened the door for us, I could see that a single body lay inside on one of the tables, covered with a sheet. The constable followed us in and closed the door, then stood beside it. Meanwhile, Gerrarde went over to the table and removed the sheet; on it laid the corpse of a woman. As Jade and I approached, Gerrarde and Sir Robert stepped back against one wall.
"What can you tell us about her?" I asked.
"That is what we wish you to tell us," Sir Robert replied, with a smugness he unsuccessfully suppressed.
Jade snapped her head towards the two police officials. "I beg your pardon?" I looked up as well, and noticed that Gerrarde appeared rather uncomfortable; obviously, this was not what he had planned.
"Gerrarde informs me that you are unusually perceptive. Therefore, it should be fairly easy for you to deduce all the facts you need."
Jade gave Gerrarde a nasty look, while he shrugged in an apologetic fashion. "I imagine the Inspector has somewhat exaggerated our talents--" she began in a frigid tone.
I interrupted her. "However, we accept the challenge."
She turned on me, her face vivid with shock. "What are you saying?!"
"Even so," I continued, ignoring her for the moment, "fair is fair, Sir Robert. To make a proper analysis, I will need confirmation of our deductions, and there are particulars that we cannot learn from a simple examination of the body. After all, even Sherlock Holmes did not theorize in the absence of all the facts."
Sir Robert blinked in confusion. "Who?"
I kicked myself mentally; it was still three years before the publication of "A Study in Scarlet".
Fortunately, Gerrarde came to my rescue. "Of course we will confirm your surmises, as well as provide whatever information you might need."
"Oh, very well," the Chief Inspector acquiesced with another wave of his hand. "Please proceed; I would like to be finished before midnight." It was obvious he had already concluded that Jade and I were wasting his time.
"Very well. Come my dear, let us see what this unfortunate can tell us."
We stepped up to the table, each on either side. The body was somewhat dumpy and prematurely old; the woman would not have been a beauty even when young, but now she was fairly ugly. I opened the mouth. "She has lost all her teeth."
Jade lifted and examined the hand on her side. "The fingers and palms are callused as well."
"What do you think?"
Putting the hand back down, she looked the body over. "Lower class, most likely poor, a washer woman or perhaps a seamstress by trade, but most likely a prostitute by necessity. Where was the body found, Inspector?"
"Whitechapel," Gerrarde stated as he pulled out his notebook. "She's been identified as Rebecca Crook, a washer and occasional midwife who has been previously arrested for prostitution. She was identified by her daughter, Mary Ann, who is married to William Nichols, a printer with the firm of Perkins, Bacon and Company of Whitefriars Street in the City."
"What were the circumstances of the discovery of the body?" I asked.
"The deputy of a doss house in Dorset Street alerted a constable that he had found a body in one of his private rooms. No witnesses to either the murder or Crook's clients that night, if any, could be found."
"Was the body clothed?" Jade inquired.
"No, but her clothing was found in the room; we can produce it if you need to see it."
"I doubt that will be necessary," I said; then, to Jade, "No signs of violence--" I ran my hands over the skull. "--no evidence of a fracture or concussion." I then pressed on the sides of the rib cage. "No fractures here. Gerrarde, give me a hand." He came forward and with his help we turned the body over. "The spine appears intact," I continued after passing my fingers over the back; when we turned the woman back upright I felt the hips; "No apparent damage here either. Whatever happened, she was not shot, stabbed, strangled, or bludgeoned to death."
Jade had spent the time examining the corpse's vagina. "She had sex, though."
"She was a whore," Sir Robert responded in a dismissive manner.
"I mean she had sex just before she died."
"How can you know that?" Gerrarde asked.
"It is common practice among streetwalkers to wash themselves as soon afterward as possible, to prevent pregnancy. There is still semen present."
Gerrarde came around beside her and looked for himself. "She's right."
"It means nothing," Sir Robert concluded.
Jade then inserted a couple of fingers into the vagina.
"Is that necessary?" Sir Robert asked, and even Gerrarde looked uncertain.
"If a streetwalker expects to be unable to wash, she often inserts a wad of cotton soaked in water or oil to prevent the semen from getting into the womb. And there's nothing here."
"Still means nothing," Sir Robert reaffirmed.
But as Jade probed deeper, she frowned in puzzlement. Then she suddenly withdrew her hand in alarm. "Jaim! This woman has no womb."
I placed my hand on the abdomen and pressed down. "It feels normal."
She shook her head. "I went in deep enough to touch the base if it was there, and I felt nothing."
"There's only one way to find out for sure," Gerrarde suggested.
"Sir Robert, do you have any objections to my performing an ad hoc autopsy?" I asked.
"Do whatever you need to do." He looked and sounded bored.
I nodded and took off my frock coat. "Jade, would you get my bag." I removed my waistcoat. "Gerrarde, would you have some towels and water brought in, please." Both hurried to comply as I untied my necktie and undid my collar, then rolled up my sleeves. Jade opened the bag and presented it to me. Reaching in, I removed a scalpel and then approached the body. I waited for Gerrarde to come around the other side before I made a Y-shaped incision in the abdomen. I expected to have to cut through a layer of connective tissue before I could pull the skin flaps away from the underlying muscles, but in fact the outer flesh lifted cleanly, with no resistance. The reason became self-evident:
"All the internal organs are missing."
From "A Typical Friday Night"
Eile and Sunny walked through the open door of the tavern, but hesitated as they looked around the crowded common room. A number of patrons glanced at them as they entered, and Eile noted that more than one pair of eyes lingered as they examined them closely, and probably undressed them. She figured that was to be expected. Though they liked to go pub crawling in their leisure time, they were probably an unexpected sight. The establishment did not look like the kind of place two adorable young girls would frequent, unless they were "working girls".
Eile glanced at her partner as she searched for a couple of empty seats. Sunny wore a sleeveless doublet over a shirt and trousers, with boots; essentially men's attire, except her ensemble appeared finer, being decorated with brightly colored embroidery, lace, and frills, while the boots had spiked heels. However, her garments possessed more accessories than could be seen: the doublet had mail and metal scales sewn into the lining, and the tight-fitting pants were made of leather reinforced with strips of cuir bouilli stitched into the thighs. She wore the same; it served as their standard casual city dress, giving them freedom of movement and good protection while still looking like haute couture. However, the clothes clung tightly to their bodies, accentuating rather than obscuring their figures, which for Sunny was soft and voluptuous. She doubted her own thinner, tougher, more athletic frame held the same interest for their observers, but she could see how the two of them might resemble hoes looking for customers. Especially since they weren't armed; adventurers bore arms, trollops didn't.
Sunny interrupted her thoughts by pointing at the trapezoidal bar. "There!"
Eile followed her direction and saw an open spot along its front face. "Come on, let's grab it before someone else does."
They hurried over and crowded in between two bruisers. Once they had made room for themselves, Eile looked around some more. "You sure this is the place?
"
Sunny reached down and pulled a folded piece of paper out of her belt. She opened it and flattened it out on the smooth stone countertop, then scanned the text. "It says the Bloody Boar, on Gaedolfen Street."
She smirked as she took the letter to look at it more closely. "Yeah, well, this seems like a pretty wretched dive ta meet a lady." The paper appeared to be very high quality powder-blue parchment, and the elegant, ornate script flowed smoothly, indicating a woman of breeding, means, and education. The desk clerk at the inn had given it to them, along with a purse of coins, when they returned from their afternoon errands. He described the individual who had dropped them off as being a dandy, but definitely male.
Sunny shrugged as she traced a finger over the pattern in the counter's tile border. "Maybe she likes slumming, or she's a courtesan. Or, maybe her business is so sensitive she wanted to meet in a place where no one she knew would think to look. You gotta admit, though, ten gold crowns is a pretty generous retainer."
She handed back the letter. "I know; that's what's bothering me."
"Huh?" Sunny snapped her head up and raised her finger, her azure-blue eyes wide behind her granny glasses.
"Well, think about it: it's almost as if she wanted ta make sure we'd show up."
Sunny nodded, refolding the letter and slipping it back into her belt. "You're probably right, but it won't hurt to hear what she has to say."
The bartender came up to them, a giant of