missing a beat.
Disinfectant and cold meat stench was everywhere, mixing with the freezer-like conditions, as the trio entered Hicks’s lair. Despite steeling himself with a couple of glasses of
Hennessy
prior to coming, Karl was dreading this live encounter with the dead.
As soon as they entered the room, Wilson nodded to Hicks’s assistant. The young man pulled back the snowy sheet, exposing the contents beneath.
“
Ah fuck
…” Karl moved away from the body, slightly. “He’s just a scrambled mess …”
“Steady, Kane,” advised Wilson. “Take a good look. We’ve got to get this right first time.”
“Ha! Not so tough now, Kane,” quipped Cairns, smirking revenge. “I guess that’s a key I see sticking out of your own arse.”
“Enough, Cairns,” commanded Wilson. “Well, Kane? Is it or isn’t it?”
Chris’s emaciated legs were twig-thin, pulled up to his chest in a defensive mode, and shaped like two bony ‘Z’s. His face was no longer there, replaced with a jumble of pulped mass and cauterised blood. It resembled a hologram from Gray’s
Anatomy of the Human Body.
Congealed blood formed a seal over the wide gap that could have been an eye. Underneath all the red, black and blue, the skin was all transparently white. A protruding lip and parts of a chin were the only proof that this had once been a human face.
Karl wanted to puke.
“Well?” asked Wilson, impatiently. “Is that him or not?”
The dead stench was seeping down Karl’s throat, gagging all breathing. He stared at the body again. The muscles of the body’s arms were gone, but the tattoos were still there, only darker, like the drawings on balloons when the air goes out of them. The one-time intimidating Heavy Metal skeleton now looked as threatening as a featherless sparrow.
“Yes … that’s him … not the face … the tattoos. I recognise the tattoos …”
“You’re sure about that?”
“You’re starting to sound like a bloody game show host,” said Karl, trying to control his anger at Wilson’s seeming indifference. “I’m as sure as I can be. Ofuckingkay?”
Wilson nodded to the assistant. The cover was parked back in its rightful place.
A few minutes later, outside in the beautiful cold air, Karl said, “When you told me he had been shot, I didn’t realise just
how
fucking shot. Poor bastard.”
“I’ve seen worse, and I wouldn’t have too much sympathy for that particular gentleman, if I were you,” stated Wilson. “If he wasn’t shooting heroin, he was shooting people. Don’t forget, Chris Brown sent quite a few innocent individuals to this wonderful place without their permission, also. He showed no sympathy to the people he murdered.”
Karl spat out the taste of dead meat from his mouth. “You’re a hard bastard. It must run in your family, you and your sister.”
“No need for that tone with the boss, Kane,” quipped Cairns, dutifully, brown nosing.
“You’re right, Cairns,” replied Karl. “Too mild. And keep your nose out of my conversation.”
Wilson glanced at his watch, as if bored. “Anyway, I appreciate you coming over. It saved a lot of paperwork.”
Karl’s face reddened. “Paperwork? A man shot to fuck, and this was all about paperwork? Saving you a few minutes of filling in forms and keeping your fucking boss happy?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean all too well.”
“Look, if there’s nothing else, we’ll be going,” said Wilson, tightening his coat.
Clearly disgusted with Wilson’s cavalier attitude, Karl asked, “Any info on what happened to him?”
Wilson shrugged his shoulders. “No revelations, as such. Neighbours heard that dog of his barking its head off. Then silence. The intruder slit the dog’s throat, apparently. A few minutes later, what sounded like shooting. They found his body under the bed, riddled with bullets.He had so many enemies, it’s going to be difficult, if not downright impossible, deciding
Disinfectant and cold meat stench was everywhere, mixing with the freezer-like conditions, as the trio entered Hicks’s lair. Despite steeling himself with a couple of glasses of
Hennessy
prior to coming, Karl was dreading this live encounter with the dead.
As soon as they entered the room, Wilson nodded to Hicks’s assistant. The young man pulled back the snowy sheet, exposing the contents beneath.
“
Ah fuck
…” Karl moved away from the body, slightly. “He’s just a scrambled mess …”
“Steady, Kane,” advised Wilson. “Take a good look. We’ve got to get this right first time.”
“Ha! Not so tough now, Kane,” quipped Cairns, smirking revenge. “I guess that’s a key I see sticking out of your own arse.”
“Enough, Cairns,” commanded Wilson. “Well, Kane? Is it or isn’t it?”
Chris’s emaciated legs were twig-thin, pulled up to his chest in a defensive mode, and shaped like two bony ‘Z’s. His face was no longer there, replaced with a jumble of pulped mass and cauterised blood. It resembled a hologram from Gray’s
Anatomy of the Human Body.
Congealed blood formed a seal over the wide gap that could have been an eye. Underneath all the red, black and blue, the skin was all transparently white. A protruding lip and parts of a chin were the only proof that this had once been a human face.
Karl wanted to puke.
“Well?” asked Wilson, impatiently. “Is that him or not?”
The dead stench was seeping down Karl’s throat, gagging all breathing. He stared at the body again. The muscles of the body’s arms were gone, but the tattoos were still there, only darker, like the drawings on balloons when the air goes out of them. The one-time intimidating Heavy Metal skeleton now looked as threatening as a featherless sparrow.
“Yes … that’s him … not the face … the tattoos. I recognise the tattoos …”
“You’re sure about that?”
“You’re starting to sound like a bloody game show host,” said Karl, trying to control his anger at Wilson’s seeming indifference. “I’m as sure as I can be. Ofuckingkay?”
Wilson nodded to the assistant. The cover was parked back in its rightful place.
A few minutes later, outside in the beautiful cold air, Karl said, “When you told me he had been shot, I didn’t realise just
how
fucking shot. Poor bastard.”
“I’ve seen worse, and I wouldn’t have too much sympathy for that particular gentleman, if I were you,” stated Wilson. “If he wasn’t shooting heroin, he was shooting people. Don’t forget, Chris Brown sent quite a few innocent individuals to this wonderful place without their permission, also. He showed no sympathy to the people he murdered.”
Karl spat out the taste of dead meat from his mouth. “You’re a hard bastard. It must run in your family, you and your sister.”
“No need for that tone with the boss, Kane,” quipped Cairns, dutifully, brown nosing.
“You’re right, Cairns,” replied Karl. “Too mild. And keep your nose out of my conversation.”
Wilson glanced at his watch, as if bored. “Anyway, I appreciate you coming over. It saved a lot of paperwork.”
Karl’s face reddened. “Paperwork? A man shot to fuck, and this was all about paperwork? Saving you a few minutes of filling in forms and keeping your fucking boss happy?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean all too well.”
“Look, if there’s nothing else, we’ll be going,” said Wilson, tightening his coat.
Clearly disgusted with Wilson’s cavalier attitude, Karl asked, “Any info on what happened to him?”
Wilson shrugged his shoulders. “No revelations, as such. Neighbours heard that dog of his barking its head off. Then silence. The intruder slit the dog’s throat, apparently. A few minutes later, what sounded like shooting. They found his body under the bed, riddled with bullets.He had so many enemies, it’s going to be difficult, if not downright impossible, deciding
Similar Books
