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Happy Massacre Day, people! I don't know what the big deal is about celebrating such a bloody day, but hey, to each his own.
February 14th, 2008
“Don’t touch anything,” Ben said sharply.
James looked up from where he was couched beside the body. “What, do I look like a rookie straight out of the academy? You think I’m going to contaminate a crime scene?”
“It’s not that, it’s just-” he was interrupted by the arrival of the chief.
“Not another one,” Chris said, and it wasn’t a question. There was no doubt this was the same perpetrator, even with a cursory inspection of the body. They had a serial killer – worse, a vigilante – on their hands.
“Another one?” James asked. “I’m guessing I missed something on my vacation.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was trying to warn you about. See, the wound isn’t fatal – it’s high up in the shoulder, this guy should have been able to walk himself to the hospital and come away with nothing more than an obscenely high bill. But instead, he’s dead.” Ben paused, and lowered his voice. “So far we haven’t released this to anyone but a select few…” he looked at the chief, who nodded. “It’s not the wound, it’s the poison that kills them. It’s curare. You touch that, and…”
“I’m dead as a doornail?” James grinned.
“Actually, no. Not right off. See, the poison works by paralyzing the ‘rough’ muscles in the body. Your heart, as it happens, is smooth muscle,” Ben said.
“Ah, and your diaphragm is not,” James finished. “You just didn’t want to have to give me mouth-to-mouth.”
“Exactly, and you’re right, I didn’t. But if someone gets to a poisoned victim and administers CPR, the victim can survive. If they get the oxygen.” Ben glanced up and down the street. “Not that help is likely in the neighborhood, if anyone heard.”
“That would explain the use of an arrow, instead of a bullet,” Chris said. “Quieter.”
“More than just that, I think,” Ben said. “It’s a statement. Think about it, if we found a drug dealer shot, what would we say? Oh, more gang violence, either a turf war or an execution. But this…. this can’t be mistaken. This is unique. And I think there’s something about the poison, too. I mean, the killer could use ricin, and there’d be no hope for the victim even if found in time.”
“But the victims have a chance, if anyone cared to help them,” James said grimly. “Some comment on society. And let me guess, we have no leads, no clues, and no physical evidence?”
“Not a single stray fiber,” Ben said.
James looked up from where he was couched beside the body. “What, do I look like a rookie straight out of the academy? You think I’m going to contaminate a crime scene?”
“It’s not that, it’s just-” he was interrupted by the arrival of the chief.
“Not another one,” Chris said, and it wasn’t a question. There was no doubt this was the same perpetrator, even with a cursory inspection of the body. They had a serial killer – worse, a vigilante – on their hands.
“Another one?” James asked. “I’m guessing I missed something on my vacation.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was trying to warn you about. See, the wound isn’t fatal – it’s high up in the shoulder, this guy should have been able to walk himself to the hospital and come away with nothing more than an obscenely high bill. But instead, he’s dead.” Ben paused, and lowered his voice. “So far we haven’t released this to anyone but a select few…” he looked at the chief, who nodded. “It’s not the wound, it’s the poison that kills them. It’s curare. You touch that, and…”
“I’m dead as a doornail?” James grinned.
“Actually, no. Not right off. See, the poison works by paralyzing the ‘rough’ muscles in the body. Your heart, as it happens, is smooth muscle,” Ben said.
“Ah, and your diaphragm is not,” James finished. “You just didn’t want to have to give me mouth-to-mouth.”
“Exactly, and you’re right, I didn’t. But if someone gets to a poisoned victim and administers CPR, the victim can survive. If they get the oxygen.” Ben glanced up and down the street. “Not that help is likely in the neighborhood, if anyone heard.”
“That would explain the use of an arrow, instead of a bullet,” Chris said. “Quieter.”
“More than just that, I think,” Ben said. “It’s a statement. Think about it, if we found a drug dealer shot, what would we say? Oh, more gang violence, either a turf war or an execution. But this…. this can’t be mistaken. This is unique. And I think there’s something about the poison, too. I mean, the killer could use ricin, and there’d be no hope for the victim even if found in time.”
“But the victims have a chance, if anyone cared to help them,” James said grimly. “Some comment on society. And let me guess, we have no leads, no clues, and no physical evidence?”
“Not a single stray fiber,” Ben said.
My Valentine's Day surprise:
If you missed what the pigs are all about, read it here.
The pigs got together and gave me 'Carp Blanche' to buy the next cute piggy bank I saw, plus lottery tickets so I could possibly 'get lucky' (after all, isn't that what this day is all about?) and a beef stick (hey, if cows can tell you to 'eat mor chikin' then pigs can get behind 'beef: it's what's for dinner').
I feel so speckled!
If you missed what the pigs are all about, read it here.
The pigs got together and gave me 'Carp Blanche' to buy the next cute piggy bank I saw, plus lottery tickets so I could possibly 'get lucky' (after all, isn't that what this day is all about?) and a beef stick (hey, if cows can tell you to 'eat mor chikin' then pigs can get behind 'beef: it's what's for dinner').
I feel so speckled!