Heath, annoyed by his apparently inconsequential interruption, put the next question.
“Don’t those marks on the fingers mean that her rings were stripped off?”
“Possibly. They’re fresh abrasions. Also, there’s a couple of lacerations on the left wrist and slight contusions on the thenar eminence, indicating that a bracelet may have been forcibly pulled over her hand.”
“That fits O. K.,” pronounced Heath, with satisfaction. “And it looks like they snatched a pendant of some kind off her neck.”
“Probably,” indifferently agreed Doctor Doremus. “The piece of chain had cut into her flesh a little behind the right shoulder.”
“And the time?”
“Nine or ten hours ago. Say, about eleven-thirty—maybe a little before. Not after midnight, anyway.” He had been teetering restlessly on his toes. “Anything else?”
Heath pondered.
“I guess that’s all, doc,” he decided. “I’ll get the body to the mortuary right away. Let’s have the post-mortem as soon as you can.”
“You’ll get a report in the morning.” And despite his apparent eagerness to be off, Doctor Doremus stepped into the bedroom, and shook hands with Heath and Markham and Inspector Moran before he hurried out.