Chapter 7 Mistaken Identity #2
“It would really help me concentrate,” said Fin very calmly as he swerved into oncoming traffic again, “if you would please hold all yelling until the Shelby comes to a complete stop.”
“Okay,” Hailey mouthed. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands. Being in his car felt like a roller coaster, aside from the traffic noise. She heard more than a few horns honking, some squealing tires, and part of an expletive someone yelled at Fin.
He didn’t respond.
“Was that fast enough for you?” he asked with more than a little hostility as he skidded to a stop next to the coroner’s office.
They’d made it there in under five minutes.
Hailey uncovered her eyes and un-cringed. Fin’s driving was…exhilarating.
He got out of the car and trotted to the passenger side. But when he opened Hailey’s door, something in the alley next to the coroner’s office caught his attention.
His smile vanished.
“Wait here, Hailey,” he said in a voice so serious that Hailey actually did stay put…for a few seconds— long enough to see him disappear around a building. But, as soon as he was out of sight, she got out of the car, headed for the coroner’s office, and asked to see the body.
An older lady with gray hair and shaky hands sat at the reception desk and answered Hailey in a painfully slow voice.
“That was Dr. Grabstein’s autopsy,” she said. “I’ll see if he’s available.” She picked up her phone.
“Oh, he’s expecting me,” Hailey lied.
The old lady looked up at her, her hand hovering over the keypad, then the desk, then the keypad.
Hailey didn’t have the patience to wait for this old dear. She needed to see Grabstein now.
“He told me to meet him in his office.”
“…his office,” the receptionist snickered. “He thinks that’s so funny.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with an uncertain laugh. “Could you point me in the right direction?”
“Just push the ‘down’ button, and the elevator will do the rest.” She motioned to the hallway on the right. “Dr. Grabstein’s been at it all night. He should still be down there…”
Hailey pushed the button for the basement, which was very conclusively labeled, MORGUE.
The doors clanged shut, shaking the entire platform, which dropped her off at the end of an underground hallway with harsh fluorescent lights and air that felt cool and heavy, smelled a bit metallic, slightly like bleach, and reeked of another pungent, synthetic yet rotting ick she couldn’t identify.
Voices echoed in the hallway, and she made her way in their direction until she found a couple of men bent over a stainless-steel gurney, each wearing scrubs under a black rubber apron.
Hailey opened her mouth to announce her presence, but nothing came out, so she cleared her throat, and one of the men looked up.
“Can I help you?” he said from behind a plastic face shield. He had a scalpel in one hand and a bloody glove covering the other.
“Yes. Could you tell me where I might find Dr. Grabstein?”
“You’re looking at him.” He held his arms out and smiled. “Please, step into my office.” He bowed and still smiling, looked like he was waiting to see if she’d laugh. He really did think that was funny.
“Dr. Grabstein,” she said using her most mature voice, “I’m here to see Holly Hartley.”
Grabstein looked at her expectantly, and Hailey figured he needed more information.
“She came in last night… Detective Toll’s case… A knife wound?”
“Knife wound?” he scoffed. “They took her head clean off, but not with any knife.” He put his scalpel down and picked up a folder.
Hailey reminded herself it wasn’t Holly.
He scanned one of the pages inside.
“Most of her injuries were consistent with tearing, except for the foot, which was removed with a large blade…”
Hailey froze, but she clung to her theory: this was not Holly.
“Never seen anything like it, actually. Were it not for the spatter inside the mausoleum, I would have said she was drawn and quartered by a team of horses. I did find a couple of stab wounds, but they were mostly superficial, hesitant…some defensive wounds on her hands…
“It was difficult to determine an exact cause of death with the body so heavily damaged, although I can tell you she was burned postmortem. You’ll read all of this in my report, of course—should be ready this evening—eh—you did say you were with Detective Toll?”
“Yes,” …in a manner of speaking… “Could I see the body?”
“’fraid not. Mortician was here not half an hour ago to collect the remains. Not much to see anyway…just pieces really.” He picked up his scalpel again. “And you’ll have to wait until morning for an ID on these other two that came in with her.”
Hailey sneaked a peek at them, but the pile on the gurney didn’t even resemble a human. It looked more like mashed and chunky meat.
“Of course,” Hailey said graciously. She didn’t care about this crime, because it had nothing to do with Holly. She just needed to see the body to prove it.
“Which mortician, then?”
“Who was it that came for the female dismemberment?” he asked his colleague.
“Eh…Rising Sun, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right. On the South Side.” Dr. Grabstein returned to his work, humming.
“Thanks!” Hailey hurried down the hall and inside the elevator, the stench of chlorine and death, sticking to her, making her nauseous. Rushing outside, she shook out her shirt, letting the sweet smell of city traffic and river water wash over her.
Fin’s car sat empty in the parking lot.
When Fin rounded the corner into the alley, the cat with purple eyes, which he’d glimpsed from the parking lot, strutted next to a dumpster, and sat itself down.
“Asher?” Fin said cautiously. “This is a new look for you.”
The cat faded into the shadows and a tall, gaunt man emerged.
“Pádraig O’Shea,” he said, and he bowed.
“Cobon,” Fin replied coldly. “What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same,” said Cobon.
Fin weighed his answer. The Envoy would know if he lied.
“Research. And you?”
“I hit a snag,” Cobon replied, baring his rotting teeth and looking suddenly…amused.
Fin made a choking noise in his throat. “You…you got a little…” He curled his lip and pointed to Cobon’s mouth. “I know a good dentist,” he said, leaning back, wrinkling his nose.
Cobon’s smile snapped into a grimace. “Mind your manners, slave,” Cobon said slowly.
“Forgive me, your highness.” Fin swung his arm with a flourish as he bowed mockingly in front of the Envoy.
Cobon drew a sharp breath as his violet eyes ping-ponged around the alley. “You were sent to protect her,” he said in a high voice, “weren’t you?”
Fin’s cocky smile melted, and Cobon exchanged with him a knowing look.
“Don’t make me laugh, Pádraig,” Cobon jeered. “You? A Guardian?” Cobon put his face next to Fin’s. “You would have ripped her apart if I’d asked you to, don’t deny it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Cobon,” said Fin stepping back. “You’re incapable of laughing—first of all.” Fin rolled his eyes. “And second, you don’t control me. Those days are over. I’m a free man.”
“Are you so sure?” Cobon chuckled, and that chuckle morphed into a cackle, which turned into a maniacal belly laugh.
Fin eyed him cautiously. Cobon was clearly mad, and that was dangerous.
“Why didn’t you ask me, then?” Fin said backing away slowly, and the Envoy straightened up.
“Asher’s favorite pet?” he spat. “You would’ve run straight to him, and Asher…Asher the Benevolent!” Cobon raised his arms dramatically. “He still thinks he’s so just. So…righteous. He objects to my…” He stifled a laugh. “…my…methods.”
Fin stepped back again.
“So Asher made you a Guardian,” Cobon taunted, and Fin wasn’t about to correct him. “You’re not a very good one. And now that you’ve failed in your duty, do watch your own back, Guardian. Asher does not very happily tolerate failure, and I find you insufferably annoying.”
He turned toward the shadows, but then pivoted and lunged at Fin, thrusting his hand through his chest. Cobon wrapped his fingers around Fin’s soul and tugged it just a little. He stared into Fin’s wide-open eyes.
“I would do it, you know,” he whispered, “but why ruin a perfectly good servant?”
“You’d be doing me a favor,” Fin grunted.
Cobon slammed him against the brick alley wall and vanished. Fin fell like a rag doll to the pavement and rolled onto his back, clutching his chest.
Hailey was calling for him.
He let out a moan as he hobbled to his feet. Leaning against the alley wall for support, he lumbered toward her voice.