It turned out to be a very grizzly scene indeed, and Carroll ended up losing his stomach, then stood grimly at the police line, waiting for Owen to finish. They were at the old railyards, a clearing house for goods prior to invention of the semi-trailer, surrounded by abandoned warehouses, train carriages and shipping containers. Rusted rail tracks exited north, and they’d cordoned off a fifty yard radius around the crime scene, a toppled rail-car that was beginning to cook under the high sun.
Inside, lit now with portable halogens and the repeated fire of the investigator’s flash, were five bodies. Twisted into painful positions, clutching their their insides or the the empty air. Their skin was drawn back on their jaws, ajar from screaming and skin cracking like a dry river bed. All the forensic officers were wearing face masks but would soon have to switch to oxygen tanks if they wanted to keep the smell out.
Owen spoke briefly with the investigators. It was hard to tell how long the bodies had been there, the decomposition was inconsistent, it looked like they’d been here months but the liquid content was too high. That and the stench would indicate that they were only a day or two old, in this weather. At one point it seemed one of the investigators was going to ask him something, saying he’d seen a similar case before cutting himself short. “We’ll know more when we get them on the table.”
“Of course.” Both knowing the bodies would never reach any mortician. Procedure had all recovered bodies incinerated and spread into the river. All they really had were five more names, five more leads that would lead nowhere.
Outside, Owen tore off the face mask and took some deep breaths, his rookie hurried to a quiet corner to release the last of his breakfast. Looking up and down the tracks, he took in all the empty warehouses and evacuated trains and wondered how long they had been using this site. This place was perfect, out of the way, lots of space. If he had his way they’d search every building, carriage and cranny in the area, but Fitz would never spare the men required.
This was by no means the first of such scenes he had witnessed, but he had an extra bad feeling about this one.
Inside, lit now with portable halogens and the repeated fire of the investigator’s flash, were five bodies. Twisted into painful positions, clutching their their insides or the the empty air. Their skin was drawn back on their jaws, ajar from screaming and skin cracking like a dry river bed. All the forensic officers were wearing face masks but would soon have to switch to oxygen tanks if they wanted to keep the smell out.
Owen spoke briefly with the investigators. It was hard to tell how long the bodies had been there, the decomposition was inconsistent, it looked like they’d been here months but the liquid content was too high. That and the stench would indicate that they were only a day or two old, in this weather. At one point it seemed one of the investigators was going to ask him something, saying he’d seen a similar case before cutting himself short. “We’ll know more when we get them on the table.”
“Of course.” Both knowing the bodies would never reach any mortician. Procedure had all recovered bodies incinerated and spread into the river. All they really had were five more names, five more leads that would lead nowhere.
Outside, Owen tore off the face mask and took some deep breaths, his rookie hurried to a quiet corner to release the last of his breakfast. Looking up and down the tracks, he took in all the empty warehouses and evacuated trains and wondered how long they had been using this site. This place was perfect, out of the way, lots of space. If he had his way they’d search every building, carriage and cranny in the area, but Fitz would never spare the men required.
This was by no means the first of such scenes he had witnessed, but he had an extra bad feeling about this one.
Quicklinks The Quiet Darkness by David Henley - First Entry | Latest Entry
Comments