Volume 2 The Curse of the Ba People Chapter 84: The Missing Heart
The autopsy room was dim, with only the shadowless lamp consisting of six sets of light bulbs on the autopsy table illuminating the table and a small area around it. Zhao Deshui's body lay quietly on the autopsy table, with the white light shining on his body, which was extremely strange.
Song Dian and two assistants were methodically preparing for the autopsy. Scalpels, scissors, tweezers, and forceps were arranged one by one in a stainless steel tool basin next to the autopsy table. There was also a sterilized basin for internal organs next to it. An assistant stood next to the basin, ready to take the bloody internal organs and put them into the basin at any time.
Song Dian has been working in the Incredible Group for five years and has accumulated rich experience in dissection. In his eyes, corpses are nothing more than ordinary things. He is familiar with all the structures of the human body. He can even perform an excellent dissection of a corpse with his eyes blindfolded. Just like Bo Ding butchering a cow, the corpse is no longer a whole in his eyes, but a piece of independent muscle and bone. Every tendon and every joint is deeply imprinted in his memory. No matter what kind of dissection he does, the scalpel can move freely between the skin and bones. So much so that Song Dian's code name in the group is called "Scalpel".
But today, when facing the body in front of him, Song Dian felt inexplicably panicked. It seemed that the person lying in front of him was not a cold corpse without life, but a demon controlled by evil forces. As long as the scalpel scratched his skin, he would wake up from the dissection table with a scream.
Song Dian's forehead gradually oozed a layer of fine beads of sweat, and his right hand holding the scalpel began to tremble slightly. The assistants beside him had never seen the boss in such a situation before, and they looked at Song Dian quietly, with confusion and tension in their eyes.
Song Dian closed his eyes, calmed himself, and then picked up the scalpel and skillfully cut the neck of the corpse. The sharp scalpel cut from the neck without any obstruction, all the way to the lower abdomen, leaving a long wound on the chest and abdomen of the corpse. A few drops of bright red blood dripped out of the wound, like overflowing tears, slowly flowing onto the dissection table, leaving a few dark red blood lines on Zhao Deshui's skin.
Due to the pulling force of the muscles, the wound automatically opened slightly to the side. Looking at the situation in front of him, Song Dian felt dizzy and almost fell to the ground. At the same time, the two assistants also opened their eyes wide in horror. The three of them stood there like three stone sculptures, motionless.
The blond Conan Doyle, wearing a slim British shirt, was anxiously waiting for the autopsy results outside the judicial office. As the sky gradually darkened and Zhao Deshui's autopsy report had not yet come out, she felt a little anxious and kept pacing back and forth in the room. This was a habit that Conan Doyle had learned from the leaders after coming to China. When thinking about problems or feeling bad, Conan Doyle liked to walk back and forth like this to relieve his boredom and anxiety.
She secretly stole Zhao Deshui's body without telling Yin Hui. The next morning after the burial, she sent a forensic team to steal it. After all, this is Beijing, and the vicious case in the funeral home has caused a lot of impact so far. As the leader of the "Incredible Team", she must take out all the files and give an explanation to the higher-ups. The autopsy is a necessary step in this process.
Fortunately, the staff handled the aftermath well. As long as the cemetery was not dug up, no one would know that Zhao Deshui was buried there. There was only an empty coffin. Yin Hui knew Yin Hui's temper very well. He was a man who was unrestrained on the outside, but a man who was a classical man of the Chinese nation, "wise, polite, honest, righteous, and trustworthy". If he knew about it, he might really make a big fuss. The only way now was to finish it quickly and let the old man rest in peace.
It was already completely dark, and there was still no news from the judicial office. Conan Doyle could not wait any longer, so he stood up and said to the person next to him, "Yellow Crane Tower, let me go and urge them! If we keep waiting like this, I don't know how long we will have to wait."
Huang Helou is a thin old man in his fifties. His eyes are quite similar to Zhao Deshui's, but his pupils are sharper and more ruthless than his. Huang Helou is the deputy captain of the Unbelievable Team. He is a veteran police officer and is meticulous and watertight. Whenever he thinks about a problem, he smokes. Of course, he only smokes Huang Helou.
"Don't go!" Huang Helou stopped Conan Doyle. "Autopsy is a very arduous and meticulous job. Don't disturb them. Scalpel is the most talented anatomist. I believe in his ability. He will definitely find some clues. All we have to do now is to wait here quietly."
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to go out and buy some lunch boxes?" Xiaoqing, the archivist who was helping Conan Doyle, made a suggestion. She couldn't help in any way now and was anxious, so she had to find something she was still capable of doing.
Huang Helou waved his hand: "Don't bother with that. There are instant noodles in the middle drawer of the desk. Make one pack for each of you!"
Xiaoqing opened the drawer and found several buckets of instant noodles inside. They must have been specially prepared by Huanghelou for those who stay up late.
Xiaoqing took out two packets and asked Huanghelou: "Deputy Captain, don't you want to eat?"
"I'm not hungry, you guys eat!" Huang Helou shook his head.
Xiaoqing filled a pot of hot water and soaked two buckets of instant noodles. After a while, the office was filled with the aroma of instant noodles. Xiaoqing brought a bucket of instant noodles to Conan Doyle. Conan Doyle took the instant noodles and had just eaten two mouthfuls when the phone on the table suddenly rang.
She subconsciously picked up the phone, and after a moment, Scalpel's deep voice came from it: "Is that the team leader? The autopsy results are out, you guys come over..." "Yes! Okay!" Conan Doyle nodded and put down the phone: "The autopsy results are out, Scalpel asked us to go to the forensic examination room."
"Haha! He finally came out. Let's hurry over there!" Huang Helou stopped the boring action of tapping on the table.
Everyone came to the forensic examination room. Scalpel was the only one left in the room. He sat slumped in the chair with a pale face, as if he had a serious illness.
Seeing his appearance, Huang Helou frowned: "What caused his death?"
Scalpel perked up, sat up straight in his chair, glanced at Conan Doyle and the others, but did not answer Huang Helou's question. Everyone looked at each other and looked at Scalpel strangely, not knowing what he meant by this, did know them, or did he mean something else?
After a while, Scalpel withdrew his gaze from Conan Doyle and the others, and said slowly: "The cause of death is very simple. He died from having his heart taken out."
Although Scalpel's tone was gentle, the content of this sentence was like a fierce bomb, shocking Conan Doyle and the others. They did not expect the autopsy result to be like this. After a long time, Conan Doyle woke up from her surprise. She asked in disbelief: "The heart of the deceased was taken out, is this true?"
Conan Doyle felt that what the scalpel said seemed like a fairy tale.
Scalpel nodded: "I can't believe this would happen, but it is a real fact. I have to believe my own eyes. The heart in the chest of the deceased is indeed missing."
Huang Helou couldn't help but touch the cigarette box, but suddenly remembered that smoking was not allowed here, so he could only withdraw his hand in dismay: "But there are no wounds on his body, how could his heart be taken out?"
Scalpel laughed in silence: "I don't know the answer to this. I have been a forensic doctor for so many years and have dissected hundreds of specimens of various types, but I have never encountered something like today."
Conan Doyle thought for a moment and said, "Can we go to the autopsy room and take a look at the body?" What Scalpel said was too bizarre and horrifying, and she wanted to see the real condition of the body with her own eyes.
"I know you won't believe me. The body is in the autopsy room. Come with me!" After saying that, Scalpel stood up from the chair and led Conan Doyle and the others to the autopsy room.
As soon as Conan Doyle walked into the corridor, he smelled a strong stench of corpses. Over the years, the crime trend in the surrounding cities has been increasing year by year. Many unidentified bodies with special problems were found to have no family members to claim them, so they had to be temporarily stored here. Although the superiors spent a huge amount of money to purchase a batch of advanced refrigerated morgue cabinets for this purpose, the bodies that had been stored for many years still began to rot slowly. The stench of the rotting bodies was sucked out by the exhaust fans on the wall and filled the surroundings of the autopsy room, like a fog that lingered all year round and surrounded the autopsy room. Therefore, except for our own people, few people from other departments came here.
At this time, the dissection room was completely dark. The two surgeons had already gone home after work. The scalpel opened the door of the dissection room and turned on the huge shadowless lamp on the dissection table. Zhao Deshui's body was still lying quietly on the dissection table in the same position as before. The wound on his body was a little bigger than before, like a huge mouth that was slightly open, as if it could swallow everything in the room.
"I know you will definitely come to see the body, so we haven't put the body in the refrigerator yet. Everything is still in the state it was when the autopsy was first performed."
Conan Doyle came to the dissection table, and the light of the shadowless lamp shone into Zhao Deshui's body through the gaping wound on his chest. She opened her eyes wide, and could not believe the fact in front of her. There was indeed nothing in Zhao Deshui's chest cavity, and his heart was missing.
At this time, Scalpel took out a plastic box from the cabinet next to him. The box contained some bloody fragments, some of which were still connected to a trace of dark red muscle. The fragments gave off a disgusting stench. Conan Doyle and Huang Helou looked at each other and couldn't help frowning. He looked at Xiaoqing next to him again. Her face was pale and her hands were gently pressing on her abdomen. It was obvious that she couldn't stand the bloody scene in the dissection room.
Of course, Conan Doyle did not ask Xiaoqing to go out and avoid it, because she knew that this was a test that he had to go through. If he couldn't even stand a corpse, he couldn't become a qualified national security personnel no matter how smart he was. Huang Helou also looked at Xiaoqing with sympathy. These things were indeed too cruel for her. But he couldn't help her. Everything depended on her to adapt.
Conan Doyle's attention returned to the fragments, and she asked Scalpel, "What are these fragments?"
Scalpel said, "These are the fragments of the heart duct left in the chest cavity." Then he carefully picked up a piece of the fragment with tweezers. The fragment was about the size of a fingernail, like a dark blue piece of rubber.
"Judging from the wounds on the fragments, the heart must have been torn apart alive, and the force was so strong that the tendons connecting the heart to the chest wall were also torn off."
Conan Doyle felt his mind go blank. There were no wounds on Zhao Deshui's body, but his heart was missing. Who was the murderer? Why did he use such a cruel method to kill the old man? And how did the murderer do it?
After about a quarter of an hour, she really couldn't figure out the secret, so she took out a professional criminal investigation camera and filmed the situation on the dissection table, then said to the scalpel seriously: "Song Dian, before we find out the truth about this matter, I hope you can tell the two assistants not to spread this matter."
"That's the rule, I know, you don't have to worry."
Conan Doyle nodded: "Well, this matter involves supernatural powers. The bird and the nun are still working out of town. I think we can only ask the little guy to help." Thinking of that man's silly look, she couldn't help laughing. The upturned corners of her mouth brought out the beauty of her Western aristocratic ancestry to the fullest, and others who saw it couldn't help but be mesmerized.
