Five Past Midnight - James Thayer [35]
Ian Hornsby wiped cruller crumbs from the corners of his mouth. His face was a carefully composed mask.
The detective was wearing black trousers and a fur-lined waistcoat that he had procured from the haberdashery with Himmler's letter. Dietrich's shoes were also new, and squeaked when he walked. He said, "Cray also appeared to have shattered his shoulders and arms when he hit the courtyard."
Heydekampf nodded fervently as he translated. Then he added, "His arms were bent crazily, as loose as rope. His elbows were touching behind his back."
"It must have been a difficult task, Group Captain Hornsby." Dietrich walked to the support post, a roughly milled timber felled in a Saxon forest in the eighteenth century. "Cray stood with his back against this post, or another post somewhere nearby. One or two of you pinned him in place so he wouldn't slip around the column. Then two more of you dislocated his shoulders."
Colonel Janssen's mouth opened. He shifted his gaze to Senior Allied Officer Hornsby.
Dietrich explained, "The shoulder socket is shallow. A few people can dislocate their own shoulders, called a voluntary dislocator. But it's a rare talent, and more probably you had to force Cray's shoulder from the socket. You used this post as a fulcrum."
Heydekampf held up his hand. "Inspector, I don't know the English word for fulcrum."
Dietrich flicked a finger, indicating it did not matter. "You used this post as a brace, gripped his arm, and levered the ball of his shoulder bone out of the socket. The result was a grotesque, inhuman shape, a hollow in Cray's- shoulder where the joint once was, and the aim sticking out behind The pain must have been excruciating, but I doubt Cray called out. Am I right?"
Harry Bell helped himself to a chair. He gave Hornsby the slightest of glances.
Dietrich had not expected an answer. He continued, "The Reich's Office of Medical Information gathers statistics regarding accidental deaths and suicides " The inspector brought up the bat again, peering at the label carved midway along the wood. "Who is Lou Gehng?"
"A baseball player," Bell answered after Heydckampf's interpretation. “Like Babe Ruth?"
Bell raised an eyebrow "Yes, like the Babe."
"Why would Cray carve this Gehng's name on a bat?"
"Most baseball bats have a famous player's name on them. Cray carved Gehng's name on his homemade bat to make it look authentic." Dietrich pursed his lips, examining Gehng's name. The Office of Medical Records reports that a person who falls three stories has a fifty percent chance of surviving. A person who falls four stories has a fifteen percent chance And someone who falls five stories, like Jack Cray ostensibly did, has virtually no chance," Janssen nodded vigorously.
"Lieutenant Burke, who is now in the punishment ward, was escaping with Cray," Dietrich said. "Both were on the roof above us. Cray must have lost his grip, slid down the steep shingles, then fallen five stories to a certain death. But none of that happened."
"I saw him fall, Inspector," Heydekampf almost shouted. "Lieutenant, you saw him land." Dietrich moved to the barred window for the second time. The bars were iron, with a width slightly less than a man's wrist. "Cray landed in the yard below this very window." Dietrich walked along the wall to the next barred casement. "These bars would resist almost any force."
He gripped the baseball bat as Major Bell had instructed him. He brought it back, then swung mightily at the iron bars. With a ring the bat bounced off the iron. The bar left a sizable dent in the wood. Dietrich smashed the iron a second time, and again the bat ricocheted off the iron. The bat suffered a second scar. The iron was unscathed.
"But now I go to the window below which the