I returned my attention to the corpse’s neck and once more began counting down the seven cervical vertebrae, starting with the first vertebra where it attached to the base of the skull and was referred to as C-1. Then came C-2, C-3, C-4, C-5, and C—! The explanation for the cervical laxity suddenly stared up at me. The cartilaginous interspace between C-5 and C-6 was gouged out and left a wide opening that partially disconnected the two.
“It was a double kill,” I disclosed.
“How so?” Joanna asked at once.
“First, he was strangled and then, while bent over, a knife was plunged into the C-5, C-6 interspace,” I replied and pointed to the gaping opening between the two vertebrae. “That thick blade was no doubt twisted in place, so it would inflict maximum damage and, when driven deep enough, would cause the spinal cord to be severed. It was a most brutal killing.”
“Done by an expert who wanted to be certain no sign of life remained,” Joanna envisioned.
“But after a thorough garroting, why bother with the knife?” my father asked. “Was it out of some perverse pleasure?”
“That is a possibility,” Joanna answered. “But more likely the strangulation came first, and afterward Blackstone showed a flicker of life, like a choking sound or muscle twitch. That was when the killer ended it once and for all.”
“Beyond gruesome,” my father noted.
“And obviously necessary in the killer’s mind,” said Joanna. “But then again, why dispatch the one and only person who knew the precise location of the masterpiece?”
Like before, we had no answer to that most important question and, putting it aside for the moment, I continued with the postmortem examination on the mummified corpse. Its chest wall and abdomen were unremarkable, as was the normally structured pelvis. I was attempting to move an arm for a better view of the inguinal area when I noticed a disjointed thumb. On closer inspection, it was clear that multiple fingers had been broken or smashed into bony splinters. The other hand revealed similar findings. Taking in a deep breath, I announced, “They tortured him and were in no hurry to do so.”
I pointed to the disjointed fingers, in particular to the thumbs which were badly fractured, with sharp ends of bone piercing through the leathery dermis. “The pain must have been unbearable.”
“What sort of human being would commit such an evil act?” my father asked, grimacing briefly at the brutality.
“It was done by more than one, Watson,” Joanna said and leaned in for a closer examination. She showed little emotion as she studied the wrists and ankles of the corpse. “I see no ropes or marks left by them, but surely he was securely tied down for this type of pain to be inflicted, and it required more than one man to do the holding and tying. Moreover, the size of the victim’s body tells us this horrific deed was done by at least two and more likely three individuals.”
My father looked at Joanna incredulously. “Three? Pray tell how did you reach that conclusion?”
“It is a straightforward deduction, Watson,” she replied. “The skeletal remains indicate the victim was a relatively tall man, perhaps as much as six feet in height. John, if you would, please measure the mummified corpse and give us a more accurate reading.”
Using a tape measure, I determined the victim’s height to be just under six feet, although this may have been a slight underestimation because of the flexed lower extremities. “At least six feet in height,” I calculated.
“So we have a six-foot-tall victim, whose clothing tells us he was well proportioned,” Joanna continued on. “With this in mind, please tell me how many men would be required to stuff such a body into a normal-sized fireplace.”
“Two strong men,” my father answered. “One would be needed to hold the lower extremities up, while the other pushed the head and shoulders in and upward.”
“Even then it would be difficult, for the weight of a heavy, sagging torso would work against such an action,” Joanna proposed. “To cram such a large body into the fireplace, a total of three would be necessary. The two Watson mentioned and a third to support and push the torso forward.”
“We know Harry Edmunds was one, but who were the other two?” I asked.
“That is to be determined,” Joanna replied. “But what can be said with certainty is that Harry Edmunds did not work alone. He had at least one and perhaps two accomplices to help subdue and securely tie the victim.”
“To a chair no doubt,” my father surmised. “And one or more men had to hold the chair down, for the tortured James Blackstone would have surely rocked away from the torturer.”
“He had to be gagged as well to prevent his screams from being heard,” Joanna added. “And I suspect they turned up the furnace to full blast, so that its noise would drown out any muffled groans of agony.”
“I cannot begin to imagine the pain he suffered,” my father thought aloud.
“Yet he held up under it,” said Joanna.
“How can you be so certain of that?” I asked.
“Because the torturers were required to break multiple fingers, one at a time, in an effort to break the poor man,” Joanna reasoned.
“Are you saying he was able to withstand the pain and not give them the information they desired?” I asked.
Joanna considered the question before answering. “The autopsy tells us that the torturers smashed two thumbs and four other fingers, for a total of six. Blackstone did not surrender after the first fractured digit, which necessitated the torturers proceeding to the five others. Furthermore, had Blackstone given up the location, Edmunds would not have had to go about the business of slashing a bunch of paintings in his search for the hidden masterpiece. All of these findings indicate Blackstone held out until the very end.”
“He was either very brave or very stupid, given his set of circumstances,” I opined.
“Perhaps,” said Joanna. “But he also realized they were going to kill him once
