Chapter 7
SEVEN
On Tuesday morning, Quinn was on her way out to meet her friend Nicole Rayburn, a writer of historical mysteries, when Colin finally rang.
Nicole was a devoted fan of Echoes from the Past, and so she wasn’t terribly upset when Quinn canceled their plans on such short notice.
They’d meet up next week, and Quinn would fill her in on all the details.
Nicole and her husband, Kyle, were part of the tight circle of family and friends who had been aware of Quinn’s gift before the ill-fated tweet went live on X, and Quinn knew that she could openly discuss her visions with her friend without the added worry of being publicly talked about or labeled a New Age freak.
As she hurried towards the tube station, Quinn could hardly wait to hear what Colin had discovered.
He was top of his field in forensic pathology and had recently left his position at the hospital and opened his own lab in Hammersmith.
He now worked with the Home Office and employed several pathologists and forensic experts, who helped to autopsy victims of violent crime and used their expertise to assist Scene of Crime officers dispatched by the Met.
Quinn hadn’t seen Colin in person since before the pandemic, but they had kept in contact by text and through social media, though Colin wasn’t one to post anything personal.
And these days, neither was Quinn. She’d had enough of social media for the moment.
Perhaps once she felt less exposed that might change.
Colin buzzed Quinn in when she arrived and enveloped her in a warm hug the moment she walked through the door.
“You look well,” he said as he let her go. “Really well.”
“So do you. And this…” Quinn said, making a gesture that encompassed the new offices. “Very impressive.” Several people were going about their work, but Quinn didn’t recognize any of them.
“I’m very happy in my professional life,” Colin said and smiled contentedly.
“And how is your partner?”
Colin had kept a photo of himself and Adam on his desk at the hospital, but his new office was devoid of personal touches.
It was all glass, chrome, and recessed lighting.
Not even a plant to make the place feel cozier.
Perhaps he hadn’t had time to decorate, or maybe, now that he was the boss, he preferred to keep his personal life away from the office.
“He’s very well,” Colin replied, and, when he smiled, his gaze turned dreamy. Quinn was sincerely glad. Colin was a lovely person, and he deserved to be happy.
Once they’d had a chance to catch up on their personal lives, Quinn asked, “Have you been able to learn anything from the remains?”
Colin had always preferred to show rather than tell, so he invited her to follow him to the lab, where the woman from the well reposed on a metal slab, her body covered up to the neck with an avocado-green sheet.
Quinn could see the postmortem scars just beneath the hairline and hoped that Colin had been able to determine the cause of death, but, given his closed expression, she told herself not to expect miracles.
“I must admit, this is probably one of the most complex cases I’ve ever worked on,” Colin admitted as he pulled back the sheet to reveal the woman’s now-naked body.
Colin worked on cadavers every day, so to him a nude corpse was nothing new, but to Quinn it felt like a violation, and she looked away and focused on the woman’s face.
Perhaps it was silly, but she felt that she ought to show the woman respect and not ogle her as if she were nothing more than an interesting specimen.
She might be gone, but to Quinn she was still very much human.
“Why was this case so difficult?” she asked as she reverently touched the woman’s hand.
“Well, for one thing, I have never had the opportunity to examine a bog body before. And for another, the lack of an actual bog presented me with a unique challenge. In order to date the body, it helps to study the layers of the bog as well as other archeological discoveries from the area. As you well know, they provide historical context,” Colin explained.
“The well might date to medieval times or even before, but we don’t know precisely when the woman was deposited in the shaft, so it’s difficult to narrow down the historical period that spanned her life. ”
“What about the usual scientific methods?”
“There’s DNA sequencing that can be obtained by pulverizing and analyzing a tooth, and carbon-14 dating, but, as you’re aware, these tests are costly and can take weeks, if not months, to carry out.
There’s quite a backlog,” Colin said apologetically, “and, of course, victims of recent crimes get priority.”
“So you haven’t ordered the tests?” Quinn asked. She was deeply disappointed by Colin’s unexpected response.
“I contacted Rhys, but, although he’s eager to obtain the scientific data to supplement your own findings, he has yet to receive authorization for payment. I gather the top brass are not keen to invest so much in an hour-long episode.”
“Hosted by a woman with a questionable reputation,” Quinn supplied.
“No one doubts you,” Colin replied. “If they did, they wouldn’t have approved another episode, but it’s always about the bottom line and, now that they know the information can be obtained another way, one that doesn’t cost anything, they’re hesitant to shell out.”
“I see.”
This wasn’t going at all as she had expected, and there was the distinct possibility that they might have to give up and either cremate or bury the woman without learning her secrets.
“Rhys said there was a ring,” he said.
“A silver claddagh ring. It’s at home.”
Colin nodded but didn’t comment.
“Were you able to learn anything from the postmortem?” Quinn asked, still hopeful that the episode might be salvaged.
“Just the basics.” Colin came to stand on the other side of the slab, facing her as he began.
“The deceased was in her late teens to early twenties, was in excellent health at the time of death, and had enjoyed a plentiful and varied diet. The stomach contained partially digested meat fibers—likely beef or lamb—along with potatoes, mushrooms, and fragments of root vegetables. The degree of digestion suggests the meal was eaten one to two hours prior to death. She had also been drinking alcohol. Analysis of the stomach contents did not reveal the presence of any known toxin.”
“So, presumably she was well-off,” Quinn mused.
“Most likely,” Colin agreed. “There are no calluses on her hands, and her feet are unblemished. This woman did not work with her hands or go without footwear. The pronounced development of her thighs, calves, and core indicates regular walking and strongly suggests she was also accustomed to riding.”
“And the cause of death?”
“There are faint horizontal bruises across the shoulder blades and the backs of the calves, a rounded contusion on the left temple consistent with blunt force trauma, and peaty water mixed with debris in the lungs.”
“So the victim—and she clearly was a victim—was battered, then drowned?” Quinn asked.
“Battered is not quite the right term. My theory is that the victim was struck on the side of the head with a smooth, rounded object, then thrown into the well. The horizontal bruises on the back and the legs are not consistent with a beating. Given the location and shape of the marks, it’s more likely that the body was moved, possibly with the aid of a cart or a makeshift stretcher that might have had crossbars.
The blow to the head resulted in an intracranial hemorrhage, which, given the amount of blood on the brain, would have been severely debilitating.
However, the ultimate cause of death was drowning. ”
“Colin, is there any evidence of sexual assault or pregnancy?”
Quinn knew she was clutching at straws. Colin would have said if he had found evidence of either, but even a supposition was better than nothing at all to go on.
Many a woman had been disposed of because she had become demanding or inconvenient, or if her child could cause embarrassment or prove the cause of someone’s undoing.
“No, there isn’t.” Colin smiled apologetically. “And I can’t tell you if she was a virgin. The absence of a hymen does not conclusively prove that someone was sexually active.”
So, another dead end, then. “And the garment she was wearing?”
“Silk. Probably white or nude-colored when new. There was a bit of lace at the neckline.”
“Is there any way to date the fabric or the lace?”
Both silk and lace had been produced for centuries, so the presence of either did nothing to narrow down the time period, and the style was quite basic.
Colin echoed Quinn’s thoughts when he said, “The garment was in the water too long to yield any significant clues. But since silk became widely available in England in the seventeenth century, we can at least rule out anything before then.”
Quinn thought it was far too soon to rule anything out.
English women had not worn silk regularly until the 1800s, but it had existed in England as early as the seventh century, and Ancient Romans had imported silk from China and fashioned it into luxurious garments for highborn ladies.
A Roman woman might easily have owned a silk sheath, just as a Frenchwoman might have worn a lace-trimmed silk gown decades before such a garment had become available in England.
French silks had dominated the European market for at least a century before silk had been widely available to English nobility.
Of course, a Roman maiden would not have worn a claddagh ring, but a young woman of European origin might have, even if she wasn’t Irish.
“Without DNA sequencing, we can’t rule out that she had come from another country,” Quinn ventured.
“You are correct,” Colin conceded. “Especially since her body was found so close to the coast. But the short hair might be a clue to the time period.”