Once Upon A Time, I was at University, studying (or “Reading” if you’re a posh English twat – we used to call them the “Yah-Yahs” because all they did was say “Yah Yah Yah” – read Pippa Middleton here, she went to the same Uni, albeit years later) English Literature. However, we had to also study English Language. Which not only involved phonetics (yay! I can read the dictionary properly – suck shit) and the phonetic spelling of accents (I’m fucking good at impersonating them; Welsh? South African? Irish/Northern Irish? just ask; if I’m drunk enough, I’ll do it) but we also had to learn how to read Middle English.
And when I say that I mean MEDIEVAL ENGLISH. WHich basically went like this: MMMNN MMMN MNNN NMMMMN MMNNNMM. I am Not Kidding. Between that and the “language trees (left brain, left brain), there was just me, the mature 90 yo “student” who looked like Toad of Toad Hall and four other unfortunates who were so shit at the subject we were not exempt from the exam, unlike the other 114.
The next year I basically had to threaten my career tutor/counsellor that if I had to take on either a) English stupid language or b) social anthropology (disfunctional department that taught us about Trochus shell exchanges in the pacific for a Year and nothing else and were shagging each other and then all quit) into Year 2 as I was supposed to, along with Lit, which is what I was there for, I’d either fail or kill myself. She came to the party and let me take to English AND Scottish Literature AND Forensic Medicine.
So if I need to kill anyone and bury the body or, if I’d like to write about it and be the next PD James or that Kathy something woman, I can. It does make watching CSI really really hard because it’s all WRONG.
You can’t swish your long hair around in a crime scene. You can’t be an expert in bugs and ballistics at the same time. It’s a good job I live alone because every time I see this show and they do something completely contra to the Forensic Bible (“every contact leaves a trace”) I yell at the TV “Every contact leaves a trace! Pull your hair back! Put some medical grade uniforms and bootees on! Turn the fucking light on! You can’t see anything with it off apart from luminol! etc).
I learned about ballistics, suicide, gassing, stabbing, poisoning, drowning; any way you can think of how a person could die, I’ve seen it and learned about it.
Our big exams every semester were real cases. We got the bare bones (excuse the pun) and had to write an essay on police procedure, what experts should be called in and how we thought the person had died; “assailant was significantly taller than the victim, was right-handed etc etc.” I won’t lie – it was fascinating. But also quite gruesome. I saw an autopsy (which acually made me not mind really if one happened to me, but made me vego for at least two weeks and also almost spew).
While I could deal with the pictures of almost every horrid thing I saw, textbook, slideshow etc, you know what fucked me up the most? Fractures. Those arm or leg ones where the bones were sticking out. That made me throw up in my mouth. Give me a pic of someone who has blown their brains out or been dead for weeks or stabbed 46 times – no probs. Weird breaky bones, Nope. Cannot do.
I’m nt Dexter but I loved forensic medicine. (apart from the interminable lectures about biology and DNA and shit and also the first five mins of the autposty where i almost yakked because of the smell, oh Lord the smell… But I’ve carefully considered The Perfect Crime (which I’d be rubbish at) but at least I’d know how to Write About It, which is more useful than Trochus shells or Word Trees. And if you want to kill someone or want advice on moving a body, I’m your man.
Of course the first thing I’d say would be “go to the police” because seriously, lying and shit (which I’d assume my friends would not do because they’d be real enougnh to realise it would make it all worse and surely it was an accident in any case…) would get you into a whole load more trouble. And most of the time you will get caught.
I’m writing this as though someone I know has killed someone, which they haven’t, to my knowledge. All I wanted to say really is that there are other options. And I can help move a body. And I know more than you on the subject.