Critical by Robin Cook Page A

asked.
    â€œIt being small-caliber,” Jack said. He pointed to a cylindrical, half-centimeter-long translucent defect within the lower part of the skull’s image. Composed of metal, bullets totally absorb X-rays, and since X-rays are viewed as negatives, the image appears in the color of the background illumination.
    â€œTwenty-two-caliber would be my guess,” Lou said, moving his face close to the film.
    â€œI think you’re also right about it being execution-style,” Jack said. “From its position in the films, it’s undoubtedly lodged in the brain stem, where a professional killer would aim. Let’s take a look at the entrance wound.”
    With Vinnie’s help, Jack rolled the corpse on its side. First, Jack took a digital photo. Then, with his gloved hand, he separated the hair covering the point where the bullet entered the victim’s head. Since the victim had bobbed around in the Hudson River, most of the blood had been washed away.
    â€œIt’s a near-contact wound,” Jack said. “But certainly not contact, since it’s a circular, not a stellate defect.” He took another photo.
    â€œHow far away?” Lou questioned.
    Jack shrugged. “By the looks of the stippling, I’d say somewhere around twelve inches. Noticing the position of the entrance wound in relation to the bullet’s position on the X-ray, I’d guess the perpetrator was behind and above the victim, maybe with the victim seated. That’s seemingly confirmed by slightly more stippling below the entrance wound than above.”
    â€œMore weight to it being execution-style.”
    â€œI’d have to agree.”
    Jack took some measurements of the position of the wound, and another photo with a ruler in close proximity. Then, with a scalpel, he dislodged some of the embedded soot from within points of stippling. He put the material in a specimen tube. Finally, he took additional photos before motioning for Vinnie to allow the body to roll back into a supine position.
    â€œWhat do you make of these deep slices across the thigh?” Lou asked, pointing to two parallel sharp cuts in the anterior aspect of the right thigh.
    Jack took a photo before inspecting the wounds and palpating them. “They were certainly made by a sharp object,” he said, looking at the clean edges. “There’s no skin bridges. I’d guess they are propeller injuries, and I’d be willing to bet they were postmortem. I don’t see any extravasated blood within the tissues.”
    â€œDo you think the victim could have been run over after being thrown from a boat?”
    Jack nodded, but something more subtle caught his attention. Moving down to the ankles, he pointed out some oddly shaped abrasions.
    â€œWhat is it?” Lou asked.
    â€œI’m not sure,” Jack said. He went over to the counter and hefted a dissecting microscope detached from its base. Bracing his elbows on the edge of the table, he studied the subtle abrasions.
    â€œWell?” Lou questioned.
    â€œI’m going out on a limb,” Jack admitted, “but it looks as if his legs might have been tied with chains. There’s not only abrasions but also suspiciously shaped indentations.”
    â€œOccurring after he was dead or before?”
    â€œWhatever it was, it was after he was dead. I don’t see any blood in the tissues here, either.”
    â€œIt could have been he was chained to a weight and supposed to sink and stay sunk. Somebody could have screwed up.”
    â€œCould be,” Jack said. “I’ll take a photo, even though it probably won’t show up.”
    â€œIf this was a screwup, it could be important to keep it quiet,” Lou said.
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œIf it is an organized-crime war, there will be more bodies. I’d want them to all come to the surface.”
    â€œOur lips will be sealed,” Jack said.
    â€œHey, can’t we