“A man has been jailed for seven years after being convicted of carrying out sex attacks on two teenage girls in the mortuary of the Devon hospital where he worked… The court heard on Monday that one alleged victim nearly passed out after Martin disfigured a cadaver’s head… It had been arranged [the perp] would give [the victim] a lift home, but he told her they would have to wait while a body was delivered — an excuse to get her to the mortuary, said the prosecutor. Martin gave her a ‘hefty slug’ of vodka and cola to calm her nerves and gave her surgical clothes to wear, telling her to strip off all her garments first so as not to contaminate them. Martin changed in the same room as her, then took the girl to the post mortem examination room. Back in the mortuary office, the ‘unsettled’ girl was told by Martin she would have to shower so as not to ‘carry out the contamination’. The court heard he got into the shower with her and later performed a sex act on the ‘terrified’ girl in the mortuary rest room… Richard Crabbe, defending, told the court last week that Martin was impotent and had a prosthetic testicle. ‘You may think that would present tremendous practical difficulties in indulging in non-consensual sex,’ Mr Crabbe told the jury.” — BBC (UK)

Obviously this isn’t really necrophilia, since no one is claiming that a cadaver was abused — at least not sexually. But there is something so incredibly lugubrious, so melodramatic, so purple about this case. Young girls lured to a morgue, dead bodies mutilated to scare the hapless victims, and then this mortician with his prosthetic testicle — what does a prosthetic testicle do? Produce prosthetic semen? — anyway, you couldn’t dream up a stranger Dr Strangelove if you tried. The dead-body man with the bionic balls.

And at first sight those girls seem so awfully gullible. Why did they just play along with those rather unusual first steps — why did they get completely naked in order just to don scrubs? Why did they fall for that excuse about “washing off the contamination?” Really, had the scrubs failed to protect their breasts from all that noxious cadaver dust floating in the air? And why didn’t they kick the mad mortician in the nuts when he climbed in the shower with them? (Is that why his original testicle had been removed? Had someone already kicked him there? And could the new testicle withstand assault? Could it perhaps even fight back? There’s a good business idea: weaponized testicle implants for men at risk of being kicked in the balls.)

You know that the girls were secretly thrilled with the prospect of seeing the dead bodies in the morgue, so did they just tell themselves that this was all a part of the bizarre experience of seeing the cadavers stretched out on their benches? Were they intimidated by the way the mortician had disfigured the bodies? Did they worry he would disfigure them too? Were they so weirded out by the corpses that they lost their powers of judgement? Were they titillated themselves by the implicit conjunction of eros and death? Did they maybe wonder what it would be like to have the mortician touch their privates with hands that had handled innards and brains? Did they only object when the eros became real, when the lusty morgue man attacked with his killer cajones?

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