Rusted leaves fluttered in the wind as the heavy rain slammed onto the roofs.
Citizens of London trudged through the streets with mud covered boots, keeping their heads hidden under their hoods.
They ignored the newsboys, who kept away from the rain as they continued to shout about the latest happenings while raising the newspapers up in the air.
Their voices drowned not only by the weather, but also the occasional coaches pulled along by sturdy horses, reserved for those able to sleep at night without dreading tomorrow.
These noises faded however as Russell made his way inside St. Bartholomew's Hospital Medical College. Heat washed over him, causing Russell to take off his thick coat, hanging it over his arm.
He was now left wearing a grey pullover and a pair of blue trousers, both items regularly worn since buying them a year ago.
Medical staff and patients alike entered and left his vision as he made his way further, eyes constantly moving despite his mind wandering away, to the request of his landlord from this morning.
"Russell, try and return earlier if you can. It would be nice to help our new resident unpack, especially in such weather."
The boy wouldn't refuse such a small request from her, so of course he ended up nodding while making his way out the door.
Mrs. Hudson had never made such requests before, that's why the identity of the tenant was relatively obvious. Who else could it be, but another young man at the beginning of his college life?
That way, the new resident can integrate faster in the unfamiliar environment, while Russell is introduced to a potential friendship.
'I never expected Mrs. Hudson to be such a mastermind.' He suppressed a chuckle. Unfortunately, he was quite content with his current acquaintances.
Russell's steps halted before the entrance to the theory lab. His head shifted to the corridor.
Footsteps unhurriedly echoed as a white lab coat revealed itself from the corner. It hung over a man whose wrinkle covered face and strands of white hair suggested his age.
Russell's gaze moved down, observing how the man moved with an irregular rhythm. His left foot placed itself outwardly, with the man's hip dropping on the same side with every step, creating a 'sink and rise' motion.
"Good morning, Mr. Watson. Pleasant day today, don't you think?" He smiled despite noticing Russell's gaze on his clear irregularity.
"Good morning, Professor Edward." Russell nodded while averting his eyes. "Not to be imprudent, but why not use a cane to alleviate the pressure on your tibia?"
"You should pray I don't, otherwise I'll end up using it to hit students that think they know more than their professor." His smile widened ever so slightly.
Russell stepped back as Edward closed in on the door. "It was just a suggestion, Professor. It surely can't be comfortable to walk like that."
Edward leaned closer. "Such sights make these youngsters think twice about taking this hospital lightly, and that's more than enough for me."
"Now, come inside! We'll see if you can keep talking like that in today's lesson."
Russell followed the older gentleman, students rising from their seats as they saw the man.
"Also, try to be on time from now on, Mr. Watson. The weather may be unforgiving, but that is not an excuse for the truly passionate." The elder suddenly spoke under the eyes of the class, not allowing Russell to simply go to his seat.
"I'll try to be more punctual, Professor." He nodded wearily as the other boys chuckled under their breath.
As Russell sat down, Edward began his lecture.
"I'm sure you can already tell, considering this isn't our normal lecture hall, but today we'll hold a special lesson. A practical lesson." If this wasn't a room full of students, Russell felt this teacher of theirs might've just started to spontaneously rub his hands together with an evil smile on his face.
'Unfortunately he doesn't have a mustache.' He smiled at the thought. A gesture taken as excitement by his desk mate.
A knock came from the door. With Edward's permission, a nurse brought in a steel table, placing it at the front of the lab. A shape was hidden on it, covered by a yellowed cloth.
"Gh…" Russell looked to the side. His colleague placed a hand over his mouth, eyes wandering away from the table.
The young man moved his seat further. Just in case.
"Today, I will be showing the process of dissecting a human corpse!" Edward clasped his hands together, glee on his face.
One of the more gutsy students raised a hand. "Professor, I thought practical lessons only start from November onwards."
He waved off the student's question. "Normally it would be so. But I believe the best foundation is through direct contact. Not by overwhelming yourself with countless pages of knowledge."
'It looks like you just want to dissect a body though.' Russell leaned back in his seat, his opinion of the professor taking a considerable shift.
If not for Edward's status as the vice principal of St. Bart's hospital he might've actually become a well-known criminal.
But even then, Russell believed the chances were relatively small. Despite the quirks, Professor Edward did not strike Russell as someone who'd choose such a path.
With such thoughts in mind, Russell and the other students approached under the beckoning of the professor.
With a single motion, he uncovered the body beneath the cloth.
Once more, groans were heard and heads were turned. It seemed this time they managed to prepare themselves despite what was revealed underneath.
It wasn't something grotesque, not necessarily. It was just that the body couldn't have possibly been older than any of the boys in this class.
"It's good to understand this will become a normal sight from now. Actually, you'll have to gaze upon sights much worse than this." Edward advised, bringing over a tray with different utensils.
The body was in perfect condition. Or at least, it used to be, before the professor started to cut him up.
He started with a precise cut which began from the throat and ended down at the pubic area.
The smell began to settle through the lab as Edward explained why this action, sometimes called the great incision, was necessary.
Russell wasn't sure how close the others paid attention while simultaneously abstaining from puking.
Though he wasn't one to talk. While the professor's words entered his ears, half his attention was on analyzing the cold body before him.
His skin was starting to discolor, greenish spots present all over his body. His face and abdomen were showing signs of bloating and the body's muscles were just starting to soften after their initial rigidity at the moment of death.
'It can't be more than two days old.'
Considering the claiming period for a body was roughly 48 hours, that meant the inspector of anatomy moved especially fast in handing this corpse over to St. Bart's. Not something out of place, considering the hospital's prestige and the potential influence of Professor Edward in this circle.
This meant the body likely had no blood ties. A possible orphan.
Since he was of age, there could've been a few paths available for him. Working in a factory or as a newsboy, those were the most legitimate jobs. But there are also those who chose to wander the streets of London, either because of an ego too big or indifference to their lives.
As mentioned before, the body had no obvious irregularities, meaning he most likely did not suffer a factory accident or was beaten to death by some angry drunkard.
"Now, before we go into the meat and bones, is there anything you can tell me about this body?" Professor Edward questioned, glancing at each one of the students with anticipation.
"Was he a beggar, professor?" Russell then inquired, speaking with subtle uncertainty.
Edward raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, Mr. Watson. Though that is something even a monkey could immediately deduce."
The other boys exchanged glances as Russell gave a weary smile in response. It looked like the professor didn't actually wish for an answer.
"John Doe. His body was found this Sunday on Praed street outside Paddington station. The coroner deduced he died of natural causes. Hypothermia, more exactly."
'Hypothermia…' Russell glanced back at the corpse. Because of the greenish hue that took over his skin, it was particularly difficult to tell if the cold was truly the undoing of this man.
His eyes scanned each part of his body, from the abdomen, where Edward explained the body's internals and moving upwards toward the throat.
His gaze stopped there.
Unlike the rest of his skin, the discoloration here had a different tone.
Purple Bluish bruises were barely noticeable to the eye. Unlike the discoloured skin, these marks were uniformed, forming a rectangle over the body's throat.
"Mr. Watson." Edward's voice resounded through the class. "Are my words so boring, you'd rather pay more attention to a corpse?" He chuckled. "If it wasn't in the middle of class, I would applaud your ambition, but we can't just skip over the basics."
"No Professor, it's just…this strange pattern caught my eye." Russell pointed to the body's throat.
Edward glanced along, remaining still for a moment.
"Russell, why would you spend so much attention on a corpse?" His desk mate whispered with exasperation.
Most people here would've never caught wind of such a subtle detail. Even now, they had to squint their eyes just to actually understand what Russell was talking about.
"Such keen senses are essential, Mr. Hunnigan." Edward told the boy in passing, approaching the head of the corpse.
After briefly observing his throat, he opened one of the young man's eyelids.
The eye was sunken and cloudy, yet under the eyes of a professional, there was more than just decomposition. Tiny blood vessels were burst open, appearing as small red dots on the sclera.
Russell glanced at the professor, who remained silent.
The purple bruising. The petechial hemorrhaging. Both indicated one cause of death and it wasn't hypothermia.
Edward turned to his students, regaining his usual smile. "Well then, let's resume! I will present the neck's structure now."
A student tried to interject. "But didn't we begin with the abdominal cavity?"
"No matter. No matter. We'll return there soon enough."
The rest of the class passed in silence, only the professor's echoing as he continued to teach the medics in training.
…
One by one, each student made their way out of the lab, chatting in whispers, not to disturb the constant workflow of the hospital.
"You wanna go for a drink with the others? I could use one after seeing a corpse get cut open." Hunnigan nudged Russell.
"Sorry, not today. I had some questions about today's lesson." Russell politely refused.
"Fine. Next time then." His classmate sighed. "It's good to know I've got a doctor to rely on in the future, but try to get to know the other fellows." He sighed, shaking his head.
In their first week at St. Bart's, most boys tried to get friendly with each other. They would be studying together for several years after all. It was also beneficial to be in the good graces of the others, since they'll be part of the same social standing in the future.
The only reason Russell and Hunnigan were somewhat friendly though was because they happened to sit next to each other in classes.
"Thanks for the concern Hunnigan. I'm just not one to actively go out."
Hunnigan patted Russell's shoulder in understanding, joining the other students, ready to unwind before the next lesson actually began.
Russell watched as they left, standing to the side of the door.
He waited until Professor Edward called a nurse over, taking away the steel table. The man then approached Russell himself.
"Mr. Watson, I wouldn't normally say this, but you continue to prove yourself remarkable." He talked in a lower tone.
"That's why, I'm sure you inferred something about our John Doe here. And just like you might think, hemorrhaging was visible in the tissue of his neck. He has most certainly been strangulated."
Edward leaned closer, glancing around the corridor. "I, however, advise you to throw away this information."
"Are you telling me to ignore it, Professor?" Russell blinked with just the right amount of surprise.
"Indeed. It's for everyone's good." Edward replied.
"The coroner has already determined the cause of death. If we tried to refute it, it would simply be a slap in the face of the government."
"But they've made a grave mistake. He was murdered." Russell pushed back.
"Yes, and they likely don't care. Corpses come and go every day. They wouldn't stress themselves with finding a culprit for a nobody."
"Of course, it is possible the local coroner is an idiot who hasn't realized the actual truth, but there is nothing we can do about it. We would be the ones who are put in a bad light. Understood?"
"...Yes, professor." Russell sighed.
"Good." Edward said, taking his leave with the usual skip in his walk.
Russell stood in place for a moment, the wheels of the table screeching as the nurse followed in the footsteps of the professor. He briefly glanced back before deciding to make his way out.