| "The Scene of the Crime" | ||
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35 days prior 3:45 AM, May 10, 2008 "Cmon, get these fucking people out of here," I grumble at the patrolman as I walk through the club. It smells of alcohol and cigarettes mostly, but underneath those is a very distinct smell, one that you never get used to because you can never forget it. The smell of death. No arrests are being made as I walk to the stairs. I pass the elevator and stop, going back, to peer in. Blood. All over the fucking elevators. I don't bother to ask for bodies because I know there aren't any that really matter to me. There's only one body that matters. Male. Caucasian. Top floor. There's lots of blood though and a couple people are somewhere right at this moment bleeding. I wonder what exactly happened here tonight. I climb the stairs, noting there is actually no blood here. Some people pass but I ignore them as I'm thinking about the blood in the elevator. I get up to the top floor and the smell of death hits me full in the face. The hallways is buzzing with people, flashes of lights from the CSI guys taking their pictures, and bodies, lots of bodies. I sweep the scene quickly nodding my head every once in awhile when someone spies me that I know. None of these guys are the guy I'm looking for. None of these bodies are the big cheese. These are just guards. Poor guards, apparently, because 6 of them are lying dead, scattered down the once brilliantly clean hallway. 'Got to take the elevator,' one of the officers says to me and gets on his radio. I should have said something downstairs then I wouldn't have wasted my time climbing the fucking stairs. 'It'll be a few minutes, sir,' he says nicely enough. But then I would have missed out on the carnage on this floor. There's something fascinating about a dead body. I always wonder what it's like to be dead. I mean, is there somewhere else you go? Heaven? Hell? No where? It's fascinating and you might think that's morbid, but it's not. Just take a little time the next opportunity you get to see a dead body, take a little time and wonder what that person might be doing, what there soul, or life force, or karma, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, might be doing. Take some time and think about it. Maybe then you'd see why it's so fascinating. 'Thanks,' I offer a little smile and check out where I'm at. A hallway. And bright. Jesus, could these people think of a little color? Well, besides red of course. I snicker to myself at the joke. I hear the elevator moving and realize I've strolled a little down the hall. The extremely bright and once clean hall. I go back to the elevator and step in, with the radio officer. 'Careful of the blood,' he says as he steps around a puddle. We stand in silence as the elevator, stinking of drying blood ascends to the next floor and the doors woosh open. 'There you go, sir. Just get one of the officers to call when you're ready.' Why couldn't all the police be as friendly as this guy? 'Yeah, thanks, appreciate it.' And I do as I step into yet another brilliantly lit hallway. What the fuck was with the hallways? I make my way into the very expensive and posh suite and look around casually. Jesus fucking christ. No expenses were spared with this place. I make my way to what I assume to be the master suite and where the dead body is I'm looking for. I can see the flashes of the cameras bouncing off the walls and hear a few murmurs. I slide the door open and take in the sight. His body is near the center of the bed, naked, his legs spread and his arms at his side. It's classic and I know what he was doing when he died. His head is turned the slightest bit to his right and I can see his eyes are still partially open. A large pool of blood extends from his head to his waist. That's one big fucking hole I think to myself as I scan the room. There's nothing to show anyone else was here, but I know someone was here. I sniff the air a little but it's to no avail because the stench of the blood and the 6 other people in here mask anything. I walk by the bed checking out the body, the dark hair, the half lidded eyes. I know exactly who he is. I know because my department received the heads up from the FBI just a week ago that this piece of shit was in the country. Someone had been watching him, but not close enough. The fucker deserved everything he got, especially that gaping hole in the back of his head. What's that? My brow furrows as I spy a large black metal object near the body. Is that a...yes it is. I smirk looking at it. Whoever had done the hit not only had balls, but had balls made of steel if they left the weapon behind. 'So, the guy comes in, leans on the bed, on his knee right here, and shoots him...right in the head. While he's fucking his old lady no less,' one of the detectives fill me in. 'Oh, but what a way to go,' another chimes in and a couple of the guys stifle laughter. I nod my head and step away from the body and go towards the master bathroom. I poke my head in taking in the room and already knowing the answer to my question. 'Anything?' The CSI girl looks up at me. She's cute. 'Nothing,' she shakes her head apologetically. I smile a little and nod my head thanks and return to the main room. A young officer is standing off to the side, staring at the body. Well, not really staring because he looks more bored than anything. So, I walk over to him thinking he was probably one of the first ones on scene. 'You called in here first?' I ask him. He shakes his head, 'nah, my partner got here first but he didn't touch anything. He just looked in the room and we called you guys. Figured from the looks of the place,' he raised his eyebrows, 'that this guy might be pretty important.' 'Good thinking,' I said watching the CSI take more pictures. And it was, to notice the expensive flat and draw the conclusion that the guy might be important. Maybe Academy wasn't so bad after all? 'You know this guy, Detective?' he asks me looking at me straight on for the first time. 'Sure do,' I say casually. 'Name's Konstantin.' Return |
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