Dr Barbara Moore sighed and looked at the clock on the wall. 5:27pm. Should she go home, or should she examine one more skeleton?
She was sick of the sight of old bones. She knew Alice Blaire was cock-a-hoop at having discovered a mass burial during an archaeological dig in Northamptonshire, along the route of a planned new motorway. But hundreds and hundreds of skeletons, in various states of decay, many all tangled up together so that it was impossible to figure out which femur belonged to which pelvis, or which skull to which spine, evidence of them having been tossed into a huge pit. But there were also some complete skeletons, some indeed were in a remarkable state of preservation, given that the artefacts discovered with them had suggested a date of the first century in the common era.
Most had very clearly died violently, with evidence of sword injuries, one or two still had javelin points lodged in vertebral bodies. That these were victims of a great battle seemed beyond doubt. The media had already got the story and Dr Blaire was being feted as the discoverer of the location of Boudica’s last stand.
Alice was putting Barbara under pressure to identify the body of Boudica herself. Barbara had smiled, and told her to dream on. She had seen very few female bones among the four hundred and thirty pelvic bones that they’d been able to fit together, she felt that there had been nine women in the pit so far. None of them were distinguishable as a queen or a leader.
Wragg, her assistant, saw her eyeing the clock. “Dr Blaire has just sent us a new skeleton,” he informed her. “It was buried separately from the others, it is complete, and even I can tell it’s a woman!”
“Really?” Tired though she was, Barbara’s interest quickened. “Oh, go on then, bring her in!”
Wragg went and fetched a simple cardboard box, with the number 431 written on it. He gently unwrapped the skull from its covering of bubble wrap, and then began to lay out the skeleton on the table. Wragg knew the bones of the human body intimately. Give him a vertebra and he could tell you in a moment which it was.
Within ten minutes he had laid out the skeleton anatomically on the table, and Barb began her examination.
“Skeleton 431,” she dictated, “very nearly complete female skeleton.”
She measured the skeleton. “Subject was an adult female of approximately 170 cm height. Epiphyses all closed. No immediate evidence of fractures of long bones or skull.
“Skull is entirely complete, with mandible in place. Teeth are in good condition, limited evidence of wear and decay only evident in lower right 6. Upper 8s have erupted bilaterally, but lower 8’s have impacted. Subject likely to have been aged between twenty-eight and thirty-five at death. ” She closed the jaw, and remarked to Wragg, “Lovely teeth, look – she must have had a nice smile!”
She peered closely at the skull. As she gazed at it, the oddest sensation came over her. She gave a small, involuntary, shudder.
“You OK, Barb?” Wragg looked at her with concern. He’d never previously seen her show the slightest emotion no matter how awful the injuries on a body – and she’d performed some pretty horrendous forensic examinations in her time.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she grinned. “What’s the expression you Brits use? Someone walked over my grave, that’s it.”
She completed her examination of the skull, dictating as she went, then described the spine, ribs, and pelvis, none of which showed any evidence of injury or disease. She always carried out her examinations in the same order, skull, axial skeleton, then appendicular skeleton. Right first, then left.
“Right upper limb. Normal appearance of shoulder joint. Long bones all of normal appearance, tuberosities well developed indicating normal to strong muscle attachments with no evidence of muscular atrophy. Incomplete carpus, missing lunate bone. Linear defect in distal articular surface of the radius, unsure of origin.” She switched off the dictaphone and frowned slightly, then remembered her self discipline. Complete the examination before jumping to conclusions.
She completed her examination of the hand then moved to the left upper limb, the examination of which proceeded in exactly the same manner. Too exact. “Incomplete carpus, missing lunate bone. Linear defect in….” She broke off, looked at Wragg, then, unable to help herself, went straight to the feet. The right heel bone was shattered, but the left one had a single hole right through it, somewhat ovoid.
Wragg was looking at her. Less disciplined, less thorough, he’d nevertheless reached his own conclusion. “She was crucified, wasn’t she?”
Barbara nodded.” I’m very afraid that she was. And it took her many hours or even days to die.”
“How do you know that?”
“Look at this hole in her calcaneum, her heel bone. She’s had all her weight on a nail in this hole for long periods and it has worn into that oval shape. She probably couldn’t weight bear on the right heel, because the nail has completely shattered the bone on that side.”
She went and stroked the skull gently. “You poor, poor woman. What a horrible, terrible way to die.”
She was sick of the sight of old bones. She knew Alice Blaire was cock-a-hoop at having discovered a mass burial during an archaeological dig in Northamptonshire, along the route of a planned new motorway. But hundreds and hundreds of skeletons, in various states of decay, many all tangled up together so that it was impossible to figure out which femur belonged to which pelvis, or which skull to which spine, evidence of them having been tossed into a huge pit. But there were also some complete skeletons, some indeed were in a remarkable state of preservation, given that the artefacts discovered with them had suggested a date of the first century in the common era.
Most had very clearly died violently, with evidence of sword injuries, one or two still had javelin points lodged in vertebral bodies. That these were victims of a great battle seemed beyond doubt. The media had already got the story and Dr Blaire was being feted as the discoverer of the location of Boudica’s last stand.
Alice was putting Barbara under pressure to identify the body of Boudica herself. Barbara had smiled, and told her to dream on. She had seen very few female bones among the four hundred and thirty pelvic bones that they’d been able to fit together, she felt that there had been nine women in the pit so far. None of them were distinguishable as a queen or a leader.
Wragg, her assistant, saw her eyeing the clock. “Dr Blaire has just sent us a new skeleton,” he informed her. “It was buried separately from the others, it is complete, and even I can tell it’s a woman!”
“Really?” Tired though she was, Barbara’s interest quickened. “Oh, go on then, bring her in!”
Wragg went and fetched a simple cardboard box, with the number 431 written on it. He gently unwrapped the skull from its covering of bubble wrap, and then began to lay out the skeleton on the table. Wragg knew the bones of the human body intimately. Give him a vertebra and he could tell you in a moment which it was.
Within ten minutes he had laid out the skeleton anatomically on the table, and Barb began her examination.
“Skeleton 431,” she dictated, “very nearly complete female skeleton.”
She measured the skeleton. “Subject was an adult female of approximately 170 cm height. Epiphyses all closed. No immediate evidence of fractures of long bones or skull.
“Skull is entirely complete, with mandible in place. Teeth are in good condition, limited evidence of wear and decay only evident in lower right 6. Upper 8s have erupted bilaterally, but lower 8’s have impacted. Subject likely to have been aged between twenty-eight and thirty-five at death. ” She closed the jaw, and remarked to Wragg, “Lovely teeth, look – she must have had a nice smile!”
She peered closely at the skull. As she gazed at it, the oddest sensation came over her. She gave a small, involuntary, shudder.
“You OK, Barb?” Wragg looked at her with concern. He’d never previously seen her show the slightest emotion no matter how awful the injuries on a body – and she’d performed some pretty horrendous forensic examinations in her time.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she grinned. “What’s the expression you Brits use? Someone walked over my grave, that’s it.”
She completed her examination of the skull, dictating as she went, then described the spine, ribs, and pelvis, none of which showed any evidence of injury or disease. She always carried out her examinations in the same order, skull, axial skeleton, then appendicular skeleton. Right first, then left.
“Right upper limb. Normal appearance of shoulder joint. Long bones all of normal appearance, tuberosities well developed indicating normal to strong muscle attachments with no evidence of muscular atrophy. Incomplete carpus, missing lunate bone. Linear defect in distal articular surface of the radius, unsure of origin.” She switched off the dictaphone and frowned slightly, then remembered her self discipline. Complete the examination before jumping to conclusions.
She completed her examination of the hand then moved to the left upper limb, the examination of which proceeded in exactly the same manner. Too exact. “Incomplete carpus, missing lunate bone. Linear defect in….” She broke off, looked at Wragg, then, unable to help herself, went straight to the feet. The right heel bone was shattered, but the left one had a single hole right through it, somewhat ovoid.
Wragg was looking at her. Less disciplined, less thorough, he’d nevertheless reached his own conclusion. “She was crucified, wasn’t she?”
Barbara nodded.” I’m very afraid that she was. And it took her many hours or even days to die.”
“How do you know that?”
“Look at this hole in her calcaneum, her heel bone. She’s had all her weight on a nail in this hole for long periods and it has worn into that oval shape. She probably couldn’t weight bear on the right heel, because the nail has completely shattered the bone on that side.”
She went and stroked the skull gently. “You poor, poor woman. What a horrible, terrible way to die.”