The organs had to be examined and weighed before being sent for further toxicological analysis to determine the presence of drugs, poisons and malnutrition. Unlikely as it was, there was always a distant chance that the boy had been poisoned before he’d been stabbed.

When she had finished, Dr. Galway left her assistants to sew up, removed her surgical gown and gloves, washed and invited Banks into her office. A family photograph was the only personal item on her tidy desk, and on the wall opposite hung a framed print of Rembrandt’s “The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp.”

She must have seen him staring at the picture because she said, “Some people think it’s a bit gruesome, but I could stare at it for hours. I once went to The Hague for a weekend specially to see the original canvas.” She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. “Anatomy lessons were real social events back in the seventeenth century, you know. Even the general public were allowed in if they paid an entrance fee.”

“Executions were public back then, too,” said Banks.

Dr. Galway nodded. “Yes. I sometimes get the impression there’s quite a few people around who wouldn’t mind watching them on television these days. But enough of that. What can I tell you from the post-mortem? Well, there’ll be a full report in due time, of course, and I don’t like preliminary reports, but I’ll tell you what I know. Externally, at any rate, the boy’s organs were in excellent shape. His aorta and pancreas were punctured by a four-inch knife blade, and the bleeding from the aorta was, I’d say, the immediate cause of death.”

“Dr. Burns said at the scene that one of the thrusts might have pierced or punctured his right ventricle.”

Dr. Galway shook her head. “I can see how he might have thought that at the scene,” she said. “I’ve seen the photographs, and the body was in a very awkward position to examine. But it was definitely the punctured aorta that caused death.”

“What about that hypostasis you suspected earlier?”

“It is present, to a small degree, exactly where you would expect it to be if he’d been lying on his back.”

“Can you give me a better idea of how long, now that you’ve opened him up?”

Dr. Galway tilted her head. “You don’t give up easily, do you.”

Banks smiled. “Not in my job description.”

“From what I could see—in my judgment, and based on previous experience—I’d narrow it to an hour, an hour and a half at the most.”