"Gilman,.Laura.Anne.-.Overrush.(A.Wren.and.Sergei.Story)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gilman Laura Anne)

a while." She walked around the body, trying to look at it
objectively. "Hair, graying brown. LongЧseriously long. This guy
hadn't been to the barber in a long time."
She stopped, stared at the corpse, trying to decide what it was that
struck her as being wrong. "There are no signs of trauma. In fact,
there's no sign of anything. Unless he died from an overdose of
dirt." It might have been a heart attack or something internal, she
reminded herself. The only way to tell would be to cut him open . . .
"Ew," she said aloud. "Rigor mort. Tell me about it."
There was a faint hum, like that of a generator somewhere starting
up, and a voice rose from the book: "The stiffening and then
relaxing of muscles after death, as caused by the change in the
body's chemical composition from alkaline to acid. Process
typically beings in the face and spreads down the body, beginning
approximately two hours after death and lasting twelve to forty-
eight hours. A body in full rigor will break rather than relax its
contraction."
Wren flicked her fingers again, and the voice stopped. "The body
was stiff but not rigid when I picked it up," she said thoughtfully.
"And it stretched out okay when we got it in hereЧnothing broke
off or went snap." She grimaced, then bent down to touch the skin,
at first gently, then jabbing harder. "The skin is plastic, not hard. So
I guess it's safe to say rigor's pretty much wearing off. So he's
been dead at least half a day, maybe more. Not too much more,
thoughЧhe doesn't smell anywhere near that bad."
Sitting back on her heels, she looked at the book. "Next
paragraph," she told it. The voice continued: "Also to be
considered is liver mortis, or postmortem lividity. When a person
dies, the red blood cells will settle at the lowest portion of the
body. This can be identified by significant marking of the skin.
Markings higher on the body would indicate the victim was moved
after death."
Wren made a face, then she sighed, gave herself a quick, silent
pep talk, and reached down to take off his shirt.
"There better not be anything disgusting hiding in there," she
warned him. "Or I'm so going to throw up on you."
Her fingers touched the skin at the base of his neck, and the jolt
that went through her knocked her backward on her rear and
halfway across the room.
"The hell?"
"What am I looking for?"
Wren shook her head. "If I tell you, youЧjust touch him."
Sergei shot her a look, but knelt to do as she asked. He was still
wearing a tie, but his shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows. Long,
manicured fingers touched the corpse's hair, then the side of his
cold cheek, flinching slightly away from the feel of dead flesh. You
never got used to it, he thought.
"Go on. His torso."
Sergei placed the palm of his hand flat over the corpse's chest,
where Wren had left the shirt half-undone. He waited. Then