The Numbered Corpses (Elysium #4)

Chapter Seven

Upon removing the frog from Emma's door, Booker and Trinket hurried home and down to the laboratory. Booker didn't even bother taking off his hat and coat. As he rushed about to gather his things, Trinket managed to snatch them off of his person and place them safely on his desk. She removed her shawl as well, certain that whatever they were about to do would be messy.

"Honestly, I never thought I'd be dissecting frogs as a grown man with a flourishing medical career," Booker said as he placed a tray on the operating table. "Takes me back to my childhood."

Trinket grimaced, her eyes flickering to the frog lying belly up by one of the leather straps on the table. "I don't know that many people can reminisce the same way you do, Mr. Larkin."

"What boring lives they must lead."

As he set out his tools on a nearby cart, Trinket continued to eye the frog. For a moment, she could have sworn its legs twitched, but she brushed it off to exhaustion setting in.

"Nothing too unusual at a cursory glance," Booker said, picking the frog up and turning it over in his hand. "I'd guess the sex to be male, though don't quote me on that. The reproductive system has never been my expertise."

Trinket smirked and raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, you are a gentleman doctor, after all."

He gave her a quick smile before taking up a dissecting needle and probing about the frog's eyes and nose. Sliding it into the animal's mouth, he pried open the jaws and examined the interior. His expression was so focused and serious, Trinket couldn't resist teasing him a little.

"So, what do you think, Doctor Larkin? Was he poisoned?" she asked.

"We can't risk overlooking even the most ridiculous of possibilities," he said, bringing the frog near his nose and sniffing at its mouth. "Especially not with Benedict."

After the external examination, Booker laid the frog on the tray and retrieved a small pair of scissors. Though Trinket felt some sympathy for the deceased frog, it was far easier to watch the dissection of an animal than that of a human. Booker started between the back legs, cutting a vertical line up its belly and ending just below its chin. He added four horizontal cuts at each leg and then pried the skin away with his forceps.

As Booker pinned the flaps of skin to the tray, Trinket gazed down at the mess of organs inside the tiny creature. It was very similar to the dead bodies they'd dissected before. She was no better at identifying these various parts than she'd been with the human bodies. Although, to her credit, some of it was vaguely familiar.

"So, this is how you learned about the human body?" she asked.

"Partly," Booker replied, peeling away a thin membrane. "At the very least, it piqued my interest in science. Well, once I got over the revulsion of cutting the animals open."

Trinket watched with curiosity as he poked around the body cavity. "Booker Larkin was squeamish about dissecting frogs?"

"Only when they were alive."

She reeled back. "You did that?"

"Benedict did. I simply assisted."

He continued to dig through the frog's insides while a sick knot formed in Trinket's stomach. With every story he told about his past, she found herself worrying more and more about this friend of his. What kind of cruel person would cut open a living creature just out of curiosity?

She knew the answer to that. It was the same kind of sadistic person who would operate unnecessarily on a paranoid, delusional young woman.

"Liver," Booker said as he snipped out a large, dark piece and placed it in a bowl before cutting out another organ. "Heart."