Chapter 1: Chapter 1
The sight of a man's severed head on the ground is one that should never be seen, let alone touched. Yet, it was the first thing that struck me about the scene in front of me. I felt a sickening chill run through my spine, and my fingers and toes went numb as I stared at the ghastly sight.I had been summoned to the scene by a senior officer, one who had been in the business for many years. He had been in charge of the last three cases that I had worked on, and he had sent me on each of those occasions to do an autopsy.Each one had been more difficult than the last, yet I had always managed to pull through. It had become a routine by this point, a ritual that I was meant to perform. The sight of the man's head on the ground, the smell of the chemicals used in the autopsy (even the smell of my own blood made me nauseous) were all part of the job.I didn't mind doing them, it gave me purpose. Even if all I did was stare at a corpse for hours on end, it was better than sitting around doing nothing.The man in front of me was different though. His face was familiar, even if I couldn't quite place him.He had a mousy brown beard that extended almost to his ears, but his dark hair, cut short and combed back, looked foreign to me. I didn't know any of the other doctors or forensics personnel, so I couldn't compare their work to this stranger's. The only thing that struck me as wrong was the man's head.It had been removed, yet there was no sign of the body. I wondered what had happened.
The medical examiner stepped forward, the only other doctor in the room, a man with a mousy brown beard and a goatee that extended past the edge of his lip. He wore a dark suit, and his hair was long and combed back from his face. "Ah, Detective Yuri. Always a pleasure to see you." He gave me a little bow before turning back to the table where he set down a steaming pitcher and two glasses. "Please, enjoy the refreshments as I prepare the body for you."
I thanked him before drinking from my glass.It was still full of the same pale ale that I preferred, but it was getting colder by the minute. The man had left the room, and I was supposed to just wait. That was the way it had been for the past three cases, and that is what I was meant to do this time too. But, I couldn't help but fidget as my eyes scanned the room.There were only a few items in the room, and all of them seemed to be related to the case. A worn leather satchel rested on one of the old wood chairs, a worn hardback was propped up on another, and a steaming pitcher and two glasses were all that were left now.I picked up the leather purse and started flipping through its pages, my thumb sliding across the worn fabric of the pages. I stopped when I reached the last one, the purse having little use now that I didn't have a body to steal.I flipped the purse inside out, and my hand came away coated in a thin sheen of perspiration.I stuffed the pages back into the purse, zipping it up, and left the room.
There were only a few doors in the small corridor, all of them either locked or with only a simple wooden latch. I picked the lock on the door nearest to the door that the medical examiner had opened.I stepped through, and closed out the light and air conditioning, pulling the heavy drape over myself. The room was stifling, the only other thing besides the body and my own sweat being the musty smell of the room. There was no air movement in the room, no fans, just thick, stuffy air.It was like stepping into a cloud.I pulled out a small box from under a table and set it on the floor next to a box of tissues. I dumped my purse on the table, the coins jingling as they rolled around inside. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders before sitting back against the wall and opening up a small notebook.I started with a drawing of a head and hand, the hand belonging to the man whose face I couldn't place. I filled the page with the man's name, and the date, and then I added a few notes on the case.
I didn't have much to go on this time, the man had only been seen in the last month or so. He hadn't been caught, and his identity was unknown. It was frustrating. The man had been murdered, yet there was no body, no murder weapon.It was a mystery. I had been hired to find this man by the medical examiner, yet I didn't have any leads. I didn't know where he lived, or where he was from. It was frustrating, and it seemed that every time I got close to finding him, something would happen.The man would be killed, or someone would come forward with information about who he was, and then I would be left without anything. I had been hired to do the job, and yet I had little success.