David Morrell - The Covenant Of The Flame

Tess inwardly cringed. 'I get the idea.'

'If you're as determined as you told me yesterday…'

'I am.'

'I could show you photographs. That's the usual procedure and a lot less traumatic. The problem is, as vivid as the photos are, they still don't give the same perspective as… In cases where the face has been damaged, it's often difficult to make a positive ID unless…Are you…? This is a terrible question. Are you willing to look at the…?'

'Corpses? Yes.' Tess shuddered. 'For my friend, I'm willing.'

Despite her various experiences as a reporter, Tess had never been to the New York City mortuary. Uneasy, she expected something like in the movies, a wall of refrigerated steel cubicles, a shiny hatch being opened, a sheet-covered corpse being pulled out on a sliding table. Instead Craig escorted her along a hallway to a small room where she faced a large window, beyond which was a dumbwaiter shaft.

Craig gave instructions into a phone, set it down, and explained, 'To save time, I made arrangements earlier. The staffs got everything ready. Tess, it's still not too late to change your mind.'

'No. I have to do this.' She trembled, not sure what would happen next, bracing herself.

A half-minute later, she flinched, hearing a motor's drone. Apprehensive, she watched cables rise, a platform being lifted. As the platform stopped beyond the window, she found herself staring at the swollen, lead-colored face of a corpse with filmy eyes and skin that seemed about to slip off its cheekbones. Although the skin was gray, its texture reminded Tess of a split, peeling, parboiled tomato. Turning away, she felt nauseous.

Craig gently touched her shoulder. 'Yeah, I know. For what it's worth, as many times as I've been here, I always feel queasy.'

Tess fought to restrain the insistent spasms in her stomach. 'Thanks. I think…'She breathed. 'I think I'll be okay. Apparently I'm not as tough as…'

'Nobody is. The day I get used to looking at corpses in as bad shape as this, is the day I quit my job.'

'The sheet that comes up to his neck. It covers the stitches from the autopsy?'

'Right. This is gross enough without…' Craig hesitated. 'Is it him? Your friend?'

Tess shook her head.

'Are you positive? From being in the water so long, the face is disfigured. You might not be able to…"

'It's not disfigured enough that I wouldn't recognize him. This isn't Joseph.'

Craig sounded awkward. 'That must be some relief to you.'

Tess felt clammy. 'So far, so good.'

'So far. That's the trouble. Unfortunately there are others. Do you think you can…?'

'Hurry. Let's finish this.'

Craig picked up the phone and gave new instructions.

Again Tess heard a drone. Still averting her gaze from the window, she imagined the platform descending, the corpse disappearing. 'Can I - ?'

'Yes. It's gone. You can turn around now.'

Tess slowly pivoted, her legs unsteady. Her breath rate increased. Once more, the drone of the rising platform made her flinch. She became light-headed and mustered all her discipline, forcing herself to study the next corpse that stopped beyond the window.

Craig had warned her that rats had eaten the eyes, but she wasn't prepared for the further damage that the rats had inflicted. The corpse's lips had been chewed away, exposing teeth that seemed to grin. The nose was gone, leaving two grotesque slits. There were jagged gaps in the cheeks, a shredded oval hole beneath the chin, like an obscene second mouth, and…

Tess spun away. 'Get it out of here!'

Despite the pounding behind her ears, she heard Craig speak to the phone and in a moment, mercifully, the drone of the descending platform.

Craig gently touched her arm again. Tess felt him waiting and sensed his hesitation, the uneasiness with which he tried to think of a sympathetic remark before he'd be able to ask…

'No, it isn't Joseph.' Tess shook. 'His forehead's too narrow.' She breathed. 'His hair's the same length, but the part's on the right instead of the left. Thank God, it isn't Joseph.'

'Come over here. Sit down.'

'I'll be okay.'

'Sure. All the same, you look pale.' Craig guided her. 'Come on, take a rest. Sit down.'

Tess obeyed, leaned back, closed her eyes, and felt cold sweat on her brow. 'Is that the end?' Her voice was a whisper. 'In the car, you mentioned only those two corpses. I want to know about my friend, but I hope to God there aren't any more.'

Craig didn't answer.

Slowly, nervously, Tess opened her eyes.

Craig glanced toward the floor.

'What?' Tess asked with effort.

Craig pursed his lips.

'Tell me.' Tess frowned, her voice regaining strength. 'Are there others? You're… What are you holding back?'

'… There is one more.'

Tess exhaled.

'But I don't think the victim can be identified. Not this way anyhow. Not visually. Probably only by bone X rays, dental records, and…' Craig gestured, ill at ease. 'He was burned. Over much of his body, especially his face. I don't know what use it would… I really question whether you should look at him.'

'It's that hopeless?'

'Definitely worse than what you've seen. I doubt that viewing the body would accomplish anything, except make you sick.'

'You mean sicker than I already am.'

Craig grimaced. 'I guess that's what I mean.'

Tess debated, concluding with relief, 'If that's your opinion. I want to do everything possible to learn what happened to Joseph, but if…'

'The only reason I even mentioned the victim is…' Craig peered toward the floor again.

'You're still holding something back.'

'Is where he died.'

Tess felt a worm of fear uncoil in her stomach. ' Where he died ? What are you trying to say, Lieutenant?'

'You mentioned you were supposed to meet Joseph on Saturday morning.'

'Yes. So what?'

'To go jogging.'

'Right.' Tess straightened.

'On the upper East Side. At Carl Schurz Park.'

'Damn it, I asked you, what are you trying to say, Lieutenant?'

'That's where this victim was found. At three a.m. on Saturday night. In Carl Schurz Park.'

Tess surged to her feet. 'Jesus. How did he…?'

'Get burned? We're not certain yet. The victim might have been a derelict, sleeping in the park. It closes at one a.m., and it's supposed to be patrolled, but sometimes street people sneak in and manage to hide. The victim was doused with gasoline and set ablaze. The autopsy shows he died from the flames, not from a knife wound or a gunshot that a fire is sometimes used to conceal. The blaze destroyed his clothes, so we can't tell if he was a derelict, but as we know, sometimes kids get their kicks by tracking down vagrants while they sleep and setting them on fire. That neighborhood doesn't see much trouble, so near to the mayor's house. The gangs tend to stay farther north and west. All the same, the scenario I just described is consistent with what happened.'

'But do you believe that scenario? You wouldn't mention this victim unless you thought there was a chance' – Tess could hardly say the words – 'he might be Joseph.'

'All I'm doing is pointing out a common denominator.'

' Carl Schurz Park.'

Craig nodded. 'But it's probably just a coincidence. Your friend wasn't a derelict. What would he be doing in the park at three a.m.? Especially that night.'

'What's so unusual about last Saturday night?'

'On Sunday, it rained, remember?'

'Yes.'

'Well, the storm began around two in the morning. Even if your friend couldn't sleep and felt tempted to take a walk, is it reasonable to believe he'd have gone out after he saw it was raining? And if he did, why would he have left the street to climb the fence of a park that was locked for the night?' Craig shrugged. 'The scenario that doesn't raise questions is the one I described. A derelict snuck into the park to find shelter. Kids followed him and set him on fire.'