"Any idea of the weapon used?"
Paxton's brow furrowed. "Hard to say. Blunt object, smooth. Weighty I should imagine."
"But she was definitely attacked?" Tom asked. "Or could this have been an injury caused by a fall. I know her age but I'm unsure whether she was frail."
"I wouldn't think so, no. The impact point, had she fallen, would be less specific. The injury would also be more spread out, unless of course she fell against the edge of a table or wash basin perhaps. I think someone killed her. Death might not have been instantaneous. There's a good chance the internal bleeding took a while to see her off but she certainly would have lost consciousness almost immediately from the blow. And she saw it coming."
"What makes you say that?"
"Where she was struck, the angle of the blow." Dr Paxton reached over and pulled Eric in front of him, using him as a prop in his demonstration. Eric didn't seem pleased but didn't resist. Paxton then stood in front of him. "I think the attacker was right-handed. You can see that if I reach out for something and swing it forward." He picked up an empty coffee mug from the table and swung it as if he was aiming a blow at Eric's head. Eric flinched but Paxton withdrew the motion before he connected. "You'll see the hairline fractures that emanate from the impact point," he said, pointing to an x-ray in the file. Tom looked closer. "The way they radiate out is indicative of such a strike. I think the attacker was a similar height to the victim, perhaps shorter, or raised their arm from a lower position, hence why I think it may have been an odd choice of weapon."
"Odd choice?"
"Whatever was at hand. If it was picked up off the table or the floor, it might explain the angle of the impact. In my experience, if someone plans an attack they are usually prepared with a weapon, a bat, or a cosh, and they will strike down from above ensuring a proper swing with their weight behind it. In this case, I think the blow came up and across."
"Instinctive perhaps," Tom said. Dr Paxton agreed. Eric was excused and stepped away, dusting himself off, an action signifying his discomfort at playing a role rather than to clean anything away.
"You said you were waiting on something?" Tom asked.
"Yes, her medical records," Paxton said, taking the clipboard back. He skipped several pages until reaching what he was looking for. "I noted during the autopsy a number of swollen areas in the victim's body. Initially I located areas on the joints of both knees and in the elbows, a cluster on her right wrist. She was a slight lady and they stood out. At first, I figured that with her age she was suffering from arthritis but as soon as I carried out a full body scan it was clearly more serious than that. I needed the medical records in order to determine how advanced and, therefore, how much impact the condition would have had on her in day-to-day life."
"What was it?"
"Bone cancer. The full body scan showed up more than I found with a visual inspection. She had tumours in her spine, arms, legs and pelvis," Dr Paxton said, frowning. "She'd clearly been suffering for quite some time."
"Terminal?"
"All life ends, Inspector. There are only so many beats in a heart and when they're used up things reach a natural conclusion. By all measures I could see, she did very well. I chatted with an oncologist friend of mine, more of a general discussion than the specifics of Mrs Beckett's case. The five-year survival rate for both adults and children is roughly seventy percent. Mary Beckett was diagnosed thirteen years ago. As I said, particularly in light of her age she was doing remarkably well. She must have been suffering."
Tom didn't recall the family mentioning a battle with cancer. "Forgive me, but I'm not knowledgeable about bone cancer. How does it manifest?"
"Like most other cancers, in any number of ways depending on how aggressive it is and whether it's spread. Tumours can form anywhere in the body, most notably in the joints. Tumours will form and release too much calcium into the bloodstream, worst case scenario causing unconsciousness and perhaps death, or the bones themselves could become fragile and break, never to heal. That's not to dismiss the everyday aches and pains cancer in this form brings. This could be mild in the form of sharp or dull aches in the arms, legs or pelvis, through to excruciating pain which would be incredibly debilitating."
Tom had a thought, remembering his conversation with her family. "Did you find any sign of dementia?"
Dr Paxton's brow furrowed. "No, I didn't. Why do you ask?"
"It ran in the family, apparently. There was a suggestion of schizophrenia on one side of the family as well."
"Curious. I suppose it can be genetic. One could build a case for it." Dr Paxton crossed to a side table and opened a folder, flicking through some papers. He lifted a sheet out and tapped at it with his forefinger, returning and handing it to Tom. "There are several notes here from her GP where she visited the practice seeking information and advice relating to dementia. But nothing more. On the second appointment she took a cognitive test, pretty standard in such cases, followed up with a blood test to see if there were any other conditions that might cause the symptoms." He scanned down through the file, locating the results. "Yes. Here it is. Blood tests returned normal for liver, kidney, thyroid… yes, all good. And she passed the cognitive test as well."
"When was that?"
Dr Paxton checked. "Two years ago."
The passing landscape fizzed by and he pushed the conversation with the pathologist aside. Something was piquing his curiosity but he couldn't quite pinpoint what or why.
