because the victim is the daughter of a prominent aristocratic and business family. We’ve kept it quiet so far, but when the story breaks, we need to have answers. I think your sensitivity could help to point us in new directions. What do you think?”
Blake looked at Jamie, visions of her dancing still running through his mind. It wouldn’t be so hard to spend time with her, and perhaps this would be some kind of redemption for the dark side of his gift. If he could use his unusual talents to help solve a crime, maybe it would go some way to righting the wrongs of his past.
“Anything you need, Detective,” Blake said, and he saw hope flicker in her eyes. “I’m happy to help if I can.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go with this right now, so whatever you can glean from the figurine is going to help.”
Blake looked at his watch. “Reading at the site of the murder would be the most powerful. We could do it now if you like.”
Jamie shook her head.
“I’ll need to get clearance for that tomorrow, since it’s cordoned off as a crime scene. Is there anything else you could do right now? Any leads could help at this stage.”
Blake felt the figurine taunting him with its macabre history, and wanted to try and explain the process of reading.
“There are layers to any object,” he said. “Especially one as old as this. Ivory is similar to bone and a strong emotional medium. When I read, I see the most resonant places first but there may be something more in times before the actual crime scene that would help provide background information.”
Jamie sat back down at the desk opposite him. “Please, try what you can.”
“The problem with deeper reading is that I can go under for too long and it can become overwhelming. If you see me looking faint, would you just remove my hand from the figurine?”
Jamie looked concerned but Blake was determined to get something useful for her. He looked at the figurine again, holding his hand over it, feeling an almost physical resonance.
“It’s macabre, isn’t it?” he said. “I can see why they wanted such things as teaching devices, but I can’t understand why someone would want to have a partially dissected body as an ornament. Let’s see where it’s been.”
***
Jamie watched Blake’s blue eyes change intensity, a summer sky suddenly filled with storm clouds, as he laid his hands gently on the figurine. It was as if he was no longer present, just a shell, although he still breathed. A sigh caught in Jamie’s throat, for this was the emptiness she felt in Polly’s body when the drugs kicked in and her consciousness slipped away. Something was gone, the vital part of the self. But if Blake’s body was still anchored here, where was his spirit?
***
Blake parted the veils of swirling shadow in his mind and sensed his surroundings. He was in a large sterile operating room, cold and drafty with high windows to provide light and air, but he was aware that no one could see inside. The walls and floor were white, and precision surgical instruments were laid out on gun-metal grey trays, with scalpels reflecting light from the windows, sharp blades waiting to cut into soft flesh. The figurine was laid across the page of a medical textbook, used as a weight to keep the pages open. The book showed the uterus of a pregnant woman, similar to the dissected innards of the figurine itself and the text was in German.
Blake’s attention shifted around the room. He could hear the sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the windows, and outside there was staccato shouting and occasional gunshots. Overlaying this was a low moaning and he slowly became aware of figures in the room before him. A woman was strapped to a gurney, her mouth gagged to stifle the noises of pain. A man stood over her in a white coat, a doctor perhaps, but Blake could feel waves of agony coming from the woman, almost a physical assault to his
Blake looked at Jamie, visions of her dancing still running through his mind. It wouldn’t be so hard to spend time with her, and perhaps this would be some kind of redemption for the dark side of his gift. If he could use his unusual talents to help solve a crime, maybe it would go some way to righting the wrongs of his past.
“Anything you need, Detective,” Blake said, and he saw hope flicker in her eyes. “I’m happy to help if I can.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go with this right now, so whatever you can glean from the figurine is going to help.”
Blake looked at his watch. “Reading at the site of the murder would be the most powerful. We could do it now if you like.”
Jamie shook her head.
“I’ll need to get clearance for that tomorrow, since it’s cordoned off as a crime scene. Is there anything else you could do right now? Any leads could help at this stage.”
Blake felt the figurine taunting him with its macabre history, and wanted to try and explain the process of reading.
“There are layers to any object,” he said. “Especially one as old as this. Ivory is similar to bone and a strong emotional medium. When I read, I see the most resonant places first but there may be something more in times before the actual crime scene that would help provide background information.”
Jamie sat back down at the desk opposite him. “Please, try what you can.”
“The problem with deeper reading is that I can go under for too long and it can become overwhelming. If you see me looking faint, would you just remove my hand from the figurine?”
Jamie looked concerned but Blake was determined to get something useful for her. He looked at the figurine again, holding his hand over it, feeling an almost physical resonance.
“It’s macabre, isn’t it?” he said. “I can see why they wanted such things as teaching devices, but I can’t understand why someone would want to have a partially dissected body as an ornament. Let’s see where it’s been.”
***
Jamie watched Blake’s blue eyes change intensity, a summer sky suddenly filled with storm clouds, as he laid his hands gently on the figurine. It was as if he was no longer present, just a shell, although he still breathed. A sigh caught in Jamie’s throat, for this was the emptiness she felt in Polly’s body when the drugs kicked in and her consciousness slipped away. Something was gone, the vital part of the self. But if Blake’s body was still anchored here, where was his spirit?
***
Blake parted the veils of swirling shadow in his mind and sensed his surroundings. He was in a large sterile operating room, cold and drafty with high windows to provide light and air, but he was aware that no one could see inside. The walls and floor were white, and precision surgical instruments were laid out on gun-metal grey trays, with scalpels reflecting light from the windows, sharp blades waiting to cut into soft flesh. The figurine was laid across the page of a medical textbook, used as a weight to keep the pages open. The book showed the uterus of a pregnant woman, similar to the dissected innards of the figurine itself and the text was in German.
Blake’s attention shifted around the room. He could hear the sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the windows, and outside there was staccato shouting and occasional gunshots. Overlaying this was a low moaning and he slowly became aware of figures in the room before him. A woman was strapped to a gurney, her mouth gagged to stifle the noises of pain. A man stood over her in a white coat, a doctor perhaps, but Blake could feel waves of agony coming from the woman, almost a physical assault to his
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