Lost Books and Old Bones

by Paige Shelton

  I called him as I stood in front of the museum’s locked main doors. He answered with, “You’re here, aren’t you? I’ll be right there.”

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  “Delaney! I’m so glad to see you,” he said as he pushed open the door. He spoke English without a hint of any other accent. When he spoke his native French, he sounded perfectly French. The same was true when he spoke the other languages he’d mastered. “I’ve been missing you.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” I said as I went through and he shut the door behind me.

  He was tall and lanky with glasses too big for his narrow face, but he wore them well.

  “I’m sorry I had to bow out of our last lunch, but you’re here today. What’s going on? Any more murders?” he said with a smile that deflated when he noticed the look on my face. “Really? Oh. Well, come along, let’s talk in my office.”

  He led me through the expanse of the main displays and then down two short hallways to his hidden door. He looked around before he reached for the handle—a ring that pulled outward and that was normally flush with the surface. I hadn’t noticed anyone else since coming inside, watching us or not, and I didn’t completely understand why the location of his office was such a secret, but I enjoyed playing along.

  Once in the office, I took my normal seat that positioned me so my knees were crammed into one side of his desk. The large computer screen was bright with a spreadsheet; he’d never explained to me why he always had a spreadsheet displayed. The ever-present yellow notebook was also there, facedown again as always, and there was nothing else on the desk.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” he said, still with a lowered voice, though it didn’t seem likely anyone could hear us, or was trying to.

  “I will. But first, your dissertation?”

  A smile lit his face. “Done yesterday. I mean, there’s more to go, I have to defend it and everything, but for all intents and purposes, it is done.”

  “Congratulations! The first of many to come, I’m sure.”

  “Oh gods and goddesses above, I can’t do that ever again.” He took a deep breath. “At least until the next time, right?”

  “You aren’t leaving the museum, or leaving Edinburgh now, are you? At least not until you’re finished with everything?”

  “For now, I’m here. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring,” he said as the smile faded a bit. He loved his work at the museum. He enjoyed Edinburgh. He and I had a real kinship that we both enjoyed.

  “Oh, I hope you stick close by,” I said.

  “Me too. Let’s not worry about tomorrow, all right? Talk to me. What happened and why do you need me?”

  It’s not easy to begin a conversation about a murder, even if the person you’re telling didn’t know anyone involved, and even if the person is a friend you can talk to about pretty much anything. To top it off, Joshua was one of the most empathetic people I’d ever met, so I treaded lightly as I relayed the tragic details I was willing to share. He hadn’t seen the newspaper yet, said he was just about to read it. I didn’t get into the rumored affairs, but just mentioned that the women I was with at the pub thought Dr. Eban was strange, and that though I might have thought him strange, he wasn’t off-putting to me at all.

  “He’s brilliant,” Joshua said, his heart heavy over the demise of Mallory, a woman he didn’t know. “Odd, but brilliant.”

  “I’m trying to understand how he’s odd.”

  Joshua bit at his bottom lip a moment. “Creepy. No, not creepy, eerie. Black cape, vampire eerie, but real-life stuff. He comports himself with that kind of an attitude. Does that make sense?”

  I nodded. “I heard he’s intrigued by and uses Burke and Hare in his teachings.”

  “I’ve heard that too. He also has an eye for the pretty women, or, again, so I’ve heard. He’s a flirt.”

  “More than a flirt maybe? Do you think he’s ever been … I don’t know, forceful toward the women he found attractive?”

  Joshua shrugged. “Anything is possible, but that’s not the rumor.” He thought a moment. “His wife is something else.”

  Fierce? I thought, but only thought. I wanted his impressions without my interference. “How?”

  “She’s even more brilliant than him. I think she’s been a part of many new drug discoveries that have hit the international market. She’s had more articles published than anyone else at the medical school, maybe more than everyone else combined. I think she was even in on a design for a better ultrasound machine. I’d have to do some research to find the details, but I’m happy to look into it.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Do you know Mrs. Eban, I mean Dr. Carson, personally?”

  Joshua laughed. “I’ve breathed the same air as she has. It has been an honor to hear her speak the few times I’ve made it to one of her lectures. I adore her, but I’m not in her league.”

  “You’re in everyone’s league, Joshua.”

  “Dr. Carson’s … not to be messed with. It is a huge mistake to contradict her, or question her in a way that makes her look mistaken about something. I’ve heard she can reduce students, other professors, and administrators to ash when they’ve sent a difficult attitude her direction. She’s … gosh, ‘fierce’ might be the word.”

  I held back a nod. “But you like her?”

  “What’s not to like?” he said sincerely.

  “Have you ever talked to Dr. Eban?” I asked.

  “No, he’s almost as talented as his wife, but only almost. I’ve never seen him speak, but only because of conflicting schedules. I’d be interested.”

  “Do you know about the skull room on the medical school campus?”

  “Of course. I’ve seen it.”

  Though the article in the Scotsman hadn’t mentioned the skull by the body, I’d already decided to tell Joshua that part of the mystery, though I still wished I hadn’t said anything to Sophie and Rena.

  “There was a skull by the body. From the skull room. The inspector confirmed that’s where it was from by a mark on its inside.”

  “And Dr. Eban is the professor in charge of the room. He’s the keeper of the keys, so to speak.”

  “He is? Well, that makes him look guilty, huh?”

  Joshua thought a moment. “Actually, I think it’s too obvious. I think the killer must have planted it.”

  I nodded.

  “What do you know about death masks?” I asked.

  “Everything. What do you want to know?”

  “They’re made of plaster?”

  “Sometimes wax. And there are two different definitions. Casts of a face after death; something to keep. However, there’s also the death mask left atop the face after death, like the ancient Egyptians.”

  “I’m talking about in Scotland, the ones kept by the living. Is there a way to date the plaster, or the wax? Know when it was created?”

  “Possibly. It would depend on exposure, et cetera. Why?”

  “Would the skull room have any of those? Would Dr. Eban have access to any?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the skull room has them, but I don’t remember seeing any in there. I’m sure we’d all be surprised by Dr. Eban’s collections. He has a display case right outside his classroom. He probably has the gory stuff hidden. At least that’s what he’s been asked to do.”

  “What kind of stuff does he keep in the display case?”

  “Gosh, so many different things. Medical instruments, books, historical clothing. He had a brain in there a couple of years ago; that’s what he was asked to remove. Even for a medical school hallway, it was a bit much for any chance public viewing.”

  “Things like old scalpels?”

  “Sure.” He looked at me.

  I hadn’t told him about the warehouse, but he’d asked a time or two. I didn’t want to say so much that I had to lie to him about its existence once again, but I did wonder.

  “Old scalpels would be pretty valuable, I bet,” I said.


  “Some. Why are you asking about old scalpels?”

  I shrugged. “Just curious. I’d like to see the skull room. Would that be possible?”

  “I’ll see what I can to do this week. Have you heard of Sir William Turner?”

  “I feel like I have, but I can’t place him.”

  “He was a professor of anatomy at the university way back in the 1860s. He collected most of the skulls. There are also preserved specimens, mostly of malformed fetuses. No ultrasounds back then. The specimens helped in the study and discovery of why some didn’t make it full term, as well as birth defects. If you have a sensitive stomach, it can be tough, but it’s undeniably interesting.”

  Since I tended to be squeamish, I wasn’t sure I would be able to find the specimens as interesting as Joshua seemed to, but I was sure I’d find the skulls interesting.

  “They had to start somewhere, right?” he said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “Thanks for trying to get me in. Can I ask you more about Burke and Hare?”

  “Of course.”

  “I know the general story of what happened, but can you tell me more?”

  Joshua stood. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We have a whole corner devoted to the killers.”

  “You do? How have I missed that?”

  Joshua smiled. “You and I are slow-goers through this place. I know I’ve never visited that corner with you. At our rate, we were bound to get there in a couple of months, but we’ll veer off course today.”

  I’d been visiting the museum one section at a time with Joshua. He’d been the most knowledgeable tour guide, sharing small details I never would’ve picked up on on my own as we lingered over every display case’s items. We were museum soul mates. It wasn’t easy to find our kind.

  We went up a flight of modern steps and then to a corner that transported us back in time. The three wide display cases were only about as high as my shoulders. Framed in ornate black wrought iron, the cases themselves were showpieces. I zoned in on the natural focal point, a black-and-white sketch of the two murderers, front and center in the first case. Their faces had been familiar to me since I’d moved to Scotland.

  My first week in Edinburgh, I’d found my way to the Cadies and Witchery Tours; their shop was not far from the bookshop and on the way up to the Royal Mile. The tour group members had been not only fun and interesting, they’d been helpful in pointing me to places in the city I should explore. At that time, a calling card case made with some of Burke’s skin had been on display in the shop. It had been one of the strangest things I’d ever seen. I couldn’t tear myself away from it for a good long few minutes, and I’d become intrigued enough to later look up the killers’ pictures.

  “I saw a card holder made with Burke’s skin,” I said, as Joshua straightened the corner of a plaque describing the display. He nodded. “Why did they make such a thing?”

  “Yes, the judge who sentenced Burke to hang also decreed that his body be used for study at the school of anatomy. Irony—eye-for-an-eye thing, I suppose. His skin was used for a few items, like the card holder. Here, read this.” Joshua pointed at a card displayed atop a small easel.

  I read aloud: “Your body should be publicly dissected and anatomized. And I trust, that if it is ever customary to preserve skeletons, yours will be preserved, in order that posterity may keep in remembrance of your atrocious crimes. Lord Justice-Clerk, David Boyle.” I looked at Joshua. “The judge said this?”

  “Yes, and Burke’s skeleton is kept at the University of Edinburgh. Hidden away somewhere, though it’s sometimes displayed.”

  “His skull?”

  “With his body, I presume, but those would be secrets I’ll never be privy to. Post-hanging, his body was dissected at Old College. It’s a building at the university that now has administration offices. A note was written in his blood by the man who dissected him. Here.” Joshua pointed to another shelf. “Ours is just a copy, though.”

  I read again: “This is written with the blood of Wm Burke, who was hanged at Edinburgh. This blood was taken from his head.” I stood up straight. “Goodness, that’s gory.”

  “Right. Not only was his skin used for the business card holder, I know there’s a book made with it along with his death mask, speaking of them, on display at Surgeons’ Hall at the university. We’ve got a replica death mask, though.” He pointed again.

  “Hare’s death mask too?” I noticed there were two.

  “This one is said to be Hare from when he was alive,” Joshua said. “We don’t know what happened to him. He disappeared after he was released from custody after the trial. He’s the one who got away, turned king’s evidence on Burke. Sad.”

  “Bizarre, making things from the skin, keeping the skeleton, even the death masks to some extent,” I said.

  “They were brutal killers.” Joshua shrugged. “Too bad they couldn’t get rid of them both.”

  In the next display case, the one mostly about Dr. Robert Knox, I saw a scalpel. I held back a squeal of glee when I recognized it to be just like the ones Tom and I had found in the warehouse, except that the ones in the warehouse were in pristine condition, seemingly never used. There were no signs of blood or skin on the one here in the case, but it was obvious it wasn’t in the same great condition.

  “Is there a case?” I asked.

  “For the scalpel? Not that I’m aware of. That would be quite the find,” Joshua said.

  For a moment I couldn’t take my eyes off the scalpel.

  “What’s the deal with scalpels?” Joshua asked.

  I looked at him. “Nothing really. Are all the death masks and replicas secure somewhere? Have any of the actual ones or copies gone missing?”

  “I don’t know. I’m truly not aware how many are in existence. Some were found in the cupboard of a former prison, one that neither Burke nor Hare had been incarcerated in. Who knows how many are in existence.”

  I’d been suspicious that Bridget had made up finding the piece of plaster because she knew she could bait me with the idea of a death mask to get an answer about the skull. I still doubted her story, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m so sorry for the victim,” Joshua said as we moved back and lingered in front of the masks. “Rosie found the body?”

  “She and Hamlet.”

  “That’s going to bother her even more. I’m sorry about that too.”

  “She’s tough, but yes, it will,” I said.

  “I’ll take her some cookies, though that sounds a bit jovial.”

  “She’d like that.”

  Joshua had fallen in love with the bookshop, and then with Rosie—in a grandmotherly way. They’d hit it off the second they’d met, and I’d begun to think that when he stopped by he was there more to talk to Rosie than to me. I was happy for their friendship, something they’d both seemed to need, even if neither of them had realized it.

  “You know,” he continued, “though I don’t agree with the ways Dr. Eban does it, there’s something to what he says about the killers contributing to medical science in important ways. The murders probably would never have happened if the doctors and students had had enough cadavers. Dr. Knox was probably desperate enough to learn what only cadavers could teach him that he didn’t ask any questions when Burke and Hare brought him bodies.”

  “Were there not enough people dying?” I asked.

  “No, no, that wasn’t it. Mostly it was because before the Anatomy Act was passed in 1832, only condemned prisoners’ bodies could be used for scientific study. As more students filled the university’s halls, fewer and fewer prisoners were condemned to death. There was a definite want for bodies.” He cleared his throat.

  I pointed at a plaque that was titled “Body Snatchers.” I said, “Grave robbers?”

  “Yes, Burke and Hare killed, but others simply stole bodies from graves. That was illegal too, but supply and demand, you know. The money was good. Back then I’m afraid it was
a short leap from grave robbing to murder.” He fell into thought and shook his head.

  “You wish you could have seen that time in person, don’t you?” I said.

  “Just briefly. Then I could travel on to the time of the dinosaurs for a week or two, and then, of course, I’m sure I could figure out the true identity of Jack the Ripper given a day or two in London.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  One of our favorite topics of conversation was about what time period we wish we could visit. Neither of us wanted to live in a different time, just vacation there, for day or weekend trips.

  “Imagine the excitement with the deluge of medical discoveries,” Joshua said.

  “And how particularly awful it was when they didn’t know how to save people from what’s now considered easily treatable illness.”

  We looked at each other and, in tandem, said, “Appendicitis.”

  “So many people died,” he said sadly.

  “So many,” I agreed.

  We’d had this conversation more than a few times over the almost-year we’d known each other. Appendicitis had killed many, until it was discovered that the offending organ wasn’t of much use anyway and just needed to be removed.

  “How did Burke and Hare know each other?” I asked as I looked at the masks again.

  “Ah. Burke, a vile man, moved to Edinburgh with his mistress. He had to get out of Ireland because he viciously murdered one of his master’s horses. He brought his mistress along and left his wife in Ireland. Ask me, the wife got the better end of the deal. Anyway, Burke had known Hare’s wife beforehand. She’d married Hare after her first husband died, and ran a lodging house on Tanner’s Close in West Port. Apparently, she insisted that Burke and his mistress move in. Though they both worked on the canal, from what I’ve read I don’t think the men met until they lived in the same lodging house.

  “They hit it off. They must have both been horrible men. It was after one of the lodging house customers died that Burke and Hare made the money that was owed to Hare’s wife by selling the corpse to pay the bill. From there they decided that robbing graves was too much work; they’d just … manufacture the corpses themselves.”