10. Traces

Obrázek uživatele Blanca
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“...so, what does that mean, Owl?” Raven asked, as the older agent stopped the simulation he was showing him.
“That, laddie, means that you were wrong about the drugs. I will have to pay a visit to the morgue. And you need to talk to Miss...” he consulted the file, “...Miss Malá as soon as she wakes up in that hospital.”
The younger agent sighed and ran a hand through his black hair, that were far less closely cropped than it used to be.
“I don't suppose we could switch?”
“Talking to people is a part of the job, Raven. But if it gives you pleasure to look at dead bodies, you can come with me for that part too.”
There was a mischievous glint in the warm brown wise eyes and Thorne found himself shrugging and nodding at the same time. Truth was, part of him was really curious about what Owl hoped to find on a corpse. And part of him just wanted to delay the inevitable by any means necessary.
The body of the twenty one year old woman had the typically bluish-grey hue of a chilled cadaver. Most of her fair hair were still caked in blood, as noone bothered to wash it yet after the post mortem. Not that there would be that much to determine by the examination. The cause of death – the direct, physiological one, that is – was fairly obvious. Broken neck and enough blunt force trauma to crack the back of the skull. They've already made that conclusion at the scene. Of course, one could argue that usually a simple toppling of a chair wouldn't generate enough energy to do that much damage, but it was not impossible. It could all have been just a freak accident, caused by the habit all parents and teachers warned children about – rocking the chair onto the back legs. But Owl refused to believe in accidents where magic was concerned. And so he was now bending low over the throat and chest of the victim, a magnifying glass in one hand and a weird, disc-shaped device in the other.
“Interesting,” he murmured, handing the glass to Raven. “Look here, laddie. What do you see?”
He moved the device above the body, from one shoulder to the other and Thorne inhaled sharply. Whatever emanated from the device made visible a line across the girl's neck, as if someone strangled her. There was also a spot about five centimeters in diameter high on her sternum. Owl nodded in satisfaction and moved the device further over the body. There didn't seem to be any other signs… until he came to the fingers and palms, which looked black and blue under whatever was emanating from the disc. Raven touched the neck, where he could see the line a minute before. There was nothing out of the ordinary, definitely no visible line, now. The skin looked and felt exactly the same as every inch of it around. And yet…
“I assume that is not a regular blacklight,” he spoke to his partner.
“No, it's not. It reveals traces left by magic.”
“Are you telling me someone used magic to strangle her?”
“It's too early to tell exactly, but as I expected, magic contributed significantly to her demise,” the older agent stowed the disc away in his suitcase and rang a bell for one of the morgue's employees.
“We're done here, but we will need to look at her belongings.”
The orderly grumbled something under his breath, covering the body with the sheet and pushing it back into the freezer. Then he motioned for them to follow him into the next room, where he handed them a box. It contained a few pieces of clothing, two rings, some piercings, three sets of earrings, a couple of heavy bracelets, a necklace of semi-precious stones and a medallion made of heavy bronze, on a matching chain. Owl took out the last item and turned it in his fingers.
“Judging by the traces, this is what they killed her with,” Raven offered.
“They?”
“Well, whoever...”
Owl shook his head.
“We need to get this medallion to our lab,” he said. “It looks like there more magic in it than I gave it credit for yesterday. But what kind of magic exactly, that remains to be seen. Just as whether it was controlled by an outside influence.”
Raven nodded and left the room. If they needed that thing, he better start on the paperwork the orderlies in the morgue will need, otherwise someone will be screaming bloody murder.
“Are you done?” the man who helped them before appeared from behind a bend in the corridor. “The family came to claim the body and everything.”
Well, shit. It seemed that he will have to speak to people after all. Grieving people. Just great.
“We need to take one item for further investigation,” he said to the morgue employee. “So I'd be grateful if you got me the forms for it. Where's the family?”
“Waiting room, just outside the door. Don't bother them too much.”
Thorne ignored him and stalked out.
“Mr. and Mrs. Diviš, sorry to disturb you, but I need to ask you a couple questions about your daughter,” he started speaking as soon as he opened the door.
“And who are you? We… we already talked to the police...” the father responded, while the mother hid her face in her hands.
“Agent Oakridge, I am from a special investigative unit,” he flashed a badge at the man, but didn't give him time to respond. “We need to know if your daughter was involved in any… spiritualist practices.”
“No. She would never… I mean, she was curious but...” the mother shook her head. “She was such a clever girl.”
“Did she have any… acquaintances, who could have been involved with anything like that?”
“She and her friends were meeting in a tearoom somewhere. She said it was because it was quiet… but I think they just wanted to smoke the pipe,” the father supplied. “You know those places… all sorts of weirdos flock there.”
“Do you know the address?”
“Sure.”
Thorne jotted the street and house number down.
“We found a locket among her things. Was that a family heirloom?” he asked then.
“No. She never wore such things. Said they were too… sentimental. She wanted her own stuff...,” Mrs. Diviš' voice broke in another bout of sobbing.
“I see. And do you know where she might have bought it?”
“No. Is that relevant? Do you think whoever sold it to her… did this?” Mr. Diviš raised his voice. “Shouldn't you be looking at the two who were there, when it happened, agent? Instead of wasting time on costume pieces?”
“I assure you, sir, we are doing everything we can. But we have to cover all the bases. Anyway, thank you for your time.”
He bowed out and met Owl in the corridor. The older agent motioned towards the exit.
“I did the papers,” he remarked as an answer to Raven's look.
“Good. And guess what… I see a stakeout in our future, partner,” Thorne grinned and slapped Owl's back, as he groaned.

Komentáře

Obrázek uživatele Tess

A zase stará parta. Mám ráda starou partu a líbí se mi, jak se najednou ty postavy probarvují a zplastičňují.

Jaká pěkná detektivka, precious! Moc dobře se mi to četlo. Tak akorát napínavý, a Tess má pravdu s těmi postavami. Dobrej detail, že měl Thorne delší vlasy než míval.
Now bring the damn thing to the lab :D

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