Джеффри Дивер - Nothing Good Happens After Midnight - A Suspense Magazine Anthology

“What the hell?” Eddie said.

“You don’t think...?” Floyd fell silent as if he couldn’t finish his thought.

Eddie walked among the tables. A few bone fragments and what looked like strips of leather lay on one. An electric meat grinder and two stainless steel blenders on another. A black plastic jar labeled “Bone Meal” caught Eddie’s eye. He lifted it, shook it, spun the lid off. Floyd directed his flashlight beam inside. A fine, grayish-white powder.

“What the hell is all this?” Floyd asked.

Eddie did a slow three-sixty before responding. “Looks to me like old Doc Bell is grinding up bodies and putting them in his tonic.”

Dr. Bell’s Body Tonic was famous. The drug store downtown had an entire shelf devoted to the various mixtures. Each touted a specific health benefit. Printed right on the label in big, red letters. Some made your brain better; others built muscles or cleaned up your liver or kidneys. Still others were for fevers or bowel regularity or to build stronger bones. Dr. Bell’s stuff could fix your whole damn body.

“Your mom used to give us that shit,” Floyd said.

“I know.” Eddie scratched an ear.

“What are we going to do?” Floyd asked.

“Ain’t much we can do. I mean, we been stealing bodies. Not like we can tell another living soul.”

“Exactly.”

The voice came from behind them. The cousins spun that way. Dr. Thomas Bell and Antoine stood in the doorway. Eddie hadn’t even heard it open.

“We was just curious,” Eddie said.

“Like the cat?” Bell said. “Didn’t work out well for him, did it?”

“We don’t mean no harm,” Floyd said. “And we ain’t going to say a word. We was just...” His voice trailed off.

“Just what?” Bell said.

Eddie stared at him, racking his brain for something to say, something that would get them out of this. He came up empty.

“Looks like we have ourselves a couple of fresh ones,” Antoine said.

Eddie now noticed the gun Antoine held in his hand. “Look, we don’t want no problems.”

“Probably should’ve thought of that before you came snooping around,” Antoine said.

Bell laid a hand on Antoine’s arm. He waved his other toward the tables. “What do you think of all this?”

“I don’t rightly know what to think,” Eddie said. “This ain’t what I expected.”

Bell nodded. “It’s really quite simple. My product, my tonic, is better than all the others because it contains what the body needs. The right mixture of proteins and minerals for good health.”

“’Cause it contains body parts?” Eddie asked.

Bell smiled. “See, you do understand.”

Eddie glanced at the jar of ground bones again. “I suppose.”

“The only question is, what are you going to do?” Bell said. “Now that you possess this knowledge.”

Eddie glanced at Floyd, getting a blank stare in return. “Ain’t much we could do. Or would, for that matter.” He shuffled his feet. “I mean the folks’re already dead and gone. Ain’t no harm in using them to make others better, I suspect. It’s not like the dead would know.”

Bell clapped his hands together. “That’s exactly right. Death is always tragic and sad, but if we can help make others better, the loss is not in vain.”

Eddie nodded.

“So can I be assured you two are okay with this?”

Floyd shrugged. “Ain’t no skin off my nose.”

“Mine neither,” Eddie added.

“Good.” Bell held their gaze for a moment. “The one you brought us tonight is exactly what I need. Young, muscular, and fairly fresh.”

“What about his face being all stove in?” Eddie asked.

“No concern. You see, I dry them out. Sort of like making jerky. Then grind them up. The bones, too. Only need a tiny amount to make each bottle of tonic.” He smiled. “So the only question I have is, how many can you supply?”

Eddie looked at him. “I guess that depends on how many folks pass. And how soon we can get to them.”

Bell nodded. “Maybe expand your horizons to other counties.”

“We’re already thinking on that. It’d be a might trickier since we don’t know those areas as well.”

“And that’s why I’m offering you a raise. Double. How does that sound?”

“Good.” Eddie nodded. “Sounds real good.”

“You see,” Bell said, “I sell in four states right now but I see an opportunity to move into half a dozen others. Which requires growing the operation. And, in turn, more raw materials.”

“Bodies?” Floyd asked.

“As many more as you can locate.”

It was Sunday morning. Sheriff Amos Dugan sat in his front porch rocker, reading the newspaper, and finishing off a cup of coffee. He had another hour to kill before getting dressed for church. That’s when a car pulled into his drive.

“Amos,” Bill Grace said as he climbed out and walked toward the porch. “Sorry to bother you on a Sunday morning.”

Dugan knew Grace, the funeral director over in Pine Valley. Fact was, they went way back. To grammar school.

“No problem, Bill.” He folded the paper. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Millie just made it fresh.”

“Another time.” Grace lowered himself into the adjacent rocker.

“What can I do for you?” Dugan asked.

“Got me a situation.” Grace shook his head. “One hell of a situation.”

“Sounds like I ain’t gonna like it.”

“Jerry Crabtree’s body’s gone missing.”

Dugan rocked forward and stared at his friend. “Want to explain that?”

“His momma stopped by this morning. Early. Brought Jerry’s Bible for me to slip in the casket.” He stared off toward the peach tree in the yard, took a breath, and went on. “She’d of put it in herself, at the visitation yesterday, but it’s a closed casket deal. The funeral’s today. She wanted her boy buried with it.”

“And he’s gone?”

Grace nodded. “Someone replaced the body with chunks of tree trunk.”

“Good lord.” Dugan let out a sigh. “Sometime during the night?”

“Looks that way. I saw some scratching on the back door lock so I suspect that’s the way they got in.”

“What would someone want with Jerry’s body?”

“Ain’t got no idea.”

“I’m here to tell you,” Dugan said, “the world don’t make no sense sometimes.” He rubbed his chin. “You tell his momma yet?”

“Nope. Wanted to talk with you first. But she’s my next stop.”

Dugan stood, his knees protesting with a few creaks and pops. “I’ll get dressed and tell Martha I ain’t going to make church today. Then I’ll meet you over at your funeral home. Say about an hour?”

“Sounds good.”

Dugan watched his friend drive away, letting the news settle. This changed everything. The disturbed dirt over at Wilbert Fleming’s grave took on a whole new meaning. Opening it up could no longer be avoided. If someone stole one body, why not two? He suddenly felt all of his sixty-two years.

Tuesday night around midnight found Eddie and Floyd at McGill’s. Sitting on barstools, knocking back a few beers. They’d heard a few folks talking about the theft of Jerry Crabtree’s body and someone digging up Wilbert Fleming, God rest their souls, but those conversations were short lived and quickly moved on to the weather, hunting, fishing, football. The usual topics.

Eddie was feeling good about things. Sure Jerry and Wilbert going missing was creating a bit of a stir, but now three days later, he felt Floyd and him were in the clear.

That’s when Antoine walked in. He didn’t say a word, merely nodded toward the back as he walked by. Eddie and Floyd slid off their stools and followed him down the hall that led to the restrooms, past them, and out the rear door to the gravel parking lot over near the trash cans. Antoine turned, folded his arms across his chest, and glared at them.