The Old Wine Shades
“She had been lying on the cream-colored sofa. Jury had seen her; they had taken her away.
‘Traumatic asphyxia,’ said Dr. O’Reilly. ‘Almost certainly homicide.’ He was the forensic medical examiner for the Surrey police, or this part of it.
‘You mean she was smothered?’ The doctor frowned. ‘Yes, but not in the sense we usually understand smothering. I mean, no pillow over the face, not that sort of thing. I’m talking about thoracic compression, which prevented her from breathing. You know, preve...nted the bellows effect.’ He put his wrists together and simulated bellows by opening and closing his hands. ‘Given the lack of bruising round the mouth, I’m inclined to reject the pillow over the face action.’ He yanked a silky pillow from the sofa and demonstrated. As if Jury and the chief inspector beside him needed a lesson in that brand of asphyxia. ‘No, it’s the thorax—I mean pressure placed on it.MoreLess
‘Traumatic asphyxia,’ said Dr. O’Reilly. ‘Almost certainly homicide.’ He was the forensic medical examiner for the Surrey police, or this part of it.
‘You mean she was smothered?’ The doctor frowned. ‘Yes, but not in the sense we usually understand smothering. I mean, no pillow over the face, not that sort of thing. I’m talking about thoracic compression, which prevented her from breathing. You know, preve...nted the bellows effect.’ He put his wrists together and simulated bellows by opening and closing his hands. ‘Given the lack of bruising round the mouth, I’m inclined to reject the pillow over the face action.’ He yanked a silky pillow from the sofa and demonstrated. As if Jury and the chief inspector beside him needed a lesson in that brand of asphyxia. ‘No, it’s the thorax—I mean pressure placed on it.MoreLess
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