Стюарт Макбрайд - All That’s Dead

King shuddered. The sliver of skin between his mask and the goggles was getting paler, little beads of sweat shining on his cheeks, the camera’s flash bouncing off his plastic goggles.

‘The bag has been knotted by its handles.’ Isobel pointed with a purple finger. ‘There may be some viable DNA inside the knot where it’s been kept away from the decomposition products, so I’ll make my incision here...’ She slit the bag open along its base, then tipped the contents out onto the tray.

King’s cheeks bulged and he gagged. ‘Oh... Jesus !’

Steel hissed, retreating to the other side of the room, one hand clasped over her facemask.

Logan’s stomach tried to claw its way up his throat and out of his body. He swallowed the bitterness down, but it tried to escape again.

Five... things sat on the tray, surrounded by their little stinking lake of yuck.

Isobel leaned in closer, her fingers smeared with brown and black as she teased the things apart. ‘The two flattened hemispheres are, or used to be, ears — the cartilage is still intact. This larger lump was a tongue.’ Then she prodded what looked like a pair of deflated testicles that had been marinated in HP Sauce. ‘And these were eyes, though clearly they’re in an advanced state of putrefaction.’ She looked up. ‘Mr Black, you’re supposed to be documenting this.’

‘Sorry.’ The flash clacked again, searing the slimy blobs of horror onto everyone’s retinas.

King’s cheeks bulged again. He tore off his facemask, turned, and ran from the room.

Isobel watched him go. ‘Well, that wasn’t very professional.’ Then prodded the remains again.

‘Urgh...’ Steel sidled up to Logan, keeping well away from the slithery mess on the tray. ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m going vegetarian for dinner tonight.’

Gav lowered his camera and peered at the Jiffy bag. ‘Professor? There’s something else in there.’

‘Is there indeed?’ Isobel reached in to pull whatever it was out. Shook her head. ‘It’s stuck to the lining.’ So she picked up her scalpel again and sliced the bag along the other two sides. When she folded them out of the way, it revealed a sheet of A4 paper — like the one that had come with Professor Wilson’s hands, only soaked through and filthy.

Whatever was printed on it wasn’t readable from where Logan was, and there was no way in hell he’d be wading over there to look.

Isobel frowned at the sheet, wrinkles deepening around her eyes. ‘I think it says... “three monkeys”.’

A nod from Steel. ‘See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil.’

Oh great.

Logan cleared his throat. ‘The bits: are they... human?’

‘A reasonable question.’ Isobel prodded the squelchy lumps again. ‘Given the morphology, I’d be surprised if they weren’t, but we’ll need to run some tests to confirm it.’

Today just got better and better.

He nodded at the tray’s contents. ‘If someone did that to you, what’s the chance you’d still be alive afterwards?’

‘Unknowable.’

Creepy Sheila shrugged. ‘The ears and eyes would cause a degree of blood loss, but the tongue would bleed a lot when you cut it out. There are women in India whose dickhead husbands have mutilated them like that for trying to escape abusive marriages, and they’ve managed to survive. Aren’t men just great .’

Steel rocked on her heels, hands in her pockets again. ‘Which is why you should ask me about my radical lesbian feminist agenda.’ A nod. ‘I should get that on a T-shirt. “Ask me about my radical lesbian feminist agenda”. Save a lot of time at parties.’

Logan looked down at the stinking remains. ‘So Councillor Lansdale could still be alive?’

‘It’s—’

‘Unknowable.’ Isobel raised a hand. ‘Now, can we get back to examining the evidence, please? Some of us have children to pick up from school today.’

‘Gah...’ Steel shuddered on her way through the rear mortuary doors and into the sunshine. ‘Well that was fun!’

‘Whose fault’s that?’ He followed her up the stairs. ‘Yours, is whose.’

‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you and Kingy are completely and utterly comprehensively buggered. And I mean massive-great-big-strap-on buggered.’ She held both hands out, about two foot apart to show how massive-great-big it was. ‘With lumps on.’

‘You didn’t sign the paperwork because you wanted us to smell that, didn’t you?’

Steel got to the top and turned a grin on him, blocking the way. ‘Team player, remember?’ She dragged out her e-cigarette and vaped up a big cloud of strawberry-and-lime. ‘Mind you, it’s a shame you convinced Hardie to stick his neck out, last press conference, and tell everyone Councillor Lansdale’s disappearance had sod all to do with—’

‘Yes, thank you; the thought had occurred.’

‘Rookie mistake, Laz. Never admit to anything, never confirm anything, and never volunteer for anything.’

‘You’re not helping.’

She patted him on the shoulder. ‘Look on the bright side: as a lowly DS I’m out of the spatter zone. All the jobbies will be flying in you and Kingy’s direction.’ A wink, and she sauntered out onto the Rear Podium car park.

The tarmac gripped at Logan’s feet, sun-softened and sticky as they made their way over to where DI King was bent double behind one of the patrol cars, hands on his knees.

He’d managed to wriggle free from the top half of his SOC suit, the empty arms dangling around his ankles.

Steel produced another bank of strawberry-and-lime fog. ‘Hope you’re no’ spewing your ring there, Kingy. Bunnets get enough puke to clean up as it is.’

He straightened up. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looked over Steel’s head at Logan. ‘This press briefing is going to be a disaster.’

‘Oh aye.’

Logan glanced up at the bulk of Divisional Headquarters, glowering down on them in the blistering sunshine. ‘Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and the building will burn down first?’

King paced from the filing cabinets in Hardie’s office to the whiteboard, to the filing cabinets, to the whiteboard. Hardie slumped behind his desk, hands covering his face.

Jane McGrath stared at Logan as if he’d just slapped her, then curled up in the other visitors’ chair, knees against her chest, arms over her head. ‘Noooo...’

Hardie peered out between his fingers. ‘So, let me get this straight: yesterday we told the world’s media that there was no connection whatsoever , and today Councillor Lansdale’s eyes, ears, and tongue turn up in a Jiffy bag?’ He covered his face again and muffled a scream. ‘For Christ’s sake!’

Jane sagged in her seat. ‘They’re going to eat us alive, they really are.’

‘I think we’re well within our rights to not tell them about it.’ Logan shrugged. ‘It’s an ongoing case. We haven’t even confirmed the body parts are his yet.’

Hardie peeked out again. ‘How could they not be his? They delivered them to his sodding office!’

King paused on the way past. ‘Are we sure we want to go out with the statement about my past now?’

‘Absolutely not.’ Jane shook her head. ‘I’m pulling the plug on that one. No statement.’

‘I think that’s—’

‘Hold on!’ Hardie lowered his hands. ‘We agreed this was the right time.’

‘It was the right time when we were ahead of the investigation! When we had a suspect and information and didn’t look like a bunch of utter morons.’

Bit harsh.

Logan turned to her. ‘We don’t look like—’

‘We told them there was no connection!’ She banged her fist off Hardie’s desk.