Martin Cordemann - How To Kill Yourself With Time Travel

“As I said...”

“You said nothing!”

“As I indicated , it's... more personal this time.”

“How much?”

“Actually... more than even possible.” He sighed. “I'm not really sure, you should see it. It can... do things to you.”

“Is the body mutilated?”

“Thank god, no! But... it's not a pleasant sight. In some other sense. Which you will find out if you really want to see it.” He thought about it. “You don't have to.”

“Who's idea was it to bring me here?”

“That was mine,” he admitted. “But maybe it wasn't a good one. Maybe we should forget this ever happened and... see what happens. Uncertainty Principle and stuff?!”

“Would it help?”

“I doubt it.”

“Soooo,” it was my time to sigh, “I was called here, I am here, I am, as you, an Agent for the Polizeit, so is this a case? Is it time travel related? And...? I can't think of a third point.”

“Then I answer to one and two with yes.”

“Is it my case?”

“If you want it.” He smiled. “If something like that happened to me, I would beg them to make it my case.”

“If what happened to you?”

“Finding my own dead body.”

“It is...”

“Oh, it's not mine. If it was, I would love it. In a morbid kind of way, of course. But wouldn't that be great? Having the opportunity to find out what happened to me and who killed me... probably.” He sighed thinking about that. “What a thrill. What an interesting concept.” He shook his shoulders. “But, as I said, it's not my corpse.”

“Are you saying, it's mine?” I gasped.

Cause nodded, slowly.

“Yeah, I'm not good at telling people stuff like that, so... I wanted you to figure it out for yourself.”

“You are saying I'm dead, probably murdered and my dead body is lying there in the bushes?!”

“Pretty much,” he nodded. “Wanna see?”

I had better starts into the day, but certainly not worse. It took me some time to comprehend. I'm still working on that, actually. Certain death, that's a rare concept. Well, actually it's not. Many have faced it. Sick people. People in planes, that were about to crash. Prisoners in front a firing squad. Okay, there are many possibilities for certain deaths, time travel only added one or two new ones. And this was one of them. My dead body, in a park, with a gunshot wound. But the why, the where, the who, all of that was still unknown. The coroner told me, that my body had been moved, meaning I hadn't been killed there. So why did the killer place my corpse somewhere easily to be found? There were lot's of questions, but they had to wait. First, I had lot's of other questions for some other people.

“Yes?” the person who opened the door asked.

“Good morning, Mr. Perkins?”

“Yes?!”

“My name is Sal Schick and I'm with the Polizeit.”

“Is it about our damn time distortions?”

“No, it's about the St. Patrick's Days Murders. May I come in?”

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