The Saint

[DoS Archive]

From: kaenetheblack@aol.com (Kaene the Black)
Date: 23 May 2002 00:23:03 EDT


The Saint

~


A pool of blood. Traces of platinum and gold. One witness. No body. Detective Germaine clawed at his scalp. He had gone over the report six times, failing to detect the fine webbing underneath it all that connected all the evidence. He knew he just had to change his perspective, but that was far easier said than done. One thing was for certain, though--it was a homicide. The little girl testified to that. Of
course, she also claimed that the shadows had eaten the body, so Germaine wasn't going to put too much stock into anything she said. Regardless, dead bodies don't just pick themselves up and hide. He thought back to last month's "zombie" case, then revised that thought:

At least, not usually.

"Germaine," a voice came from the doorway; a thick, robust basso. The detective dragged his head from his hands, looked up. "My, my.. you look horrible." The visitor said, grinning toothily. His mouth suddenly reminded Germaine of the broken fence that surrounded his small house.

"Thanks, Neville. Thanks." Germaine feigned insult at the glib comment. "What's up? And for God's sake don't tell me I'm gonna be pulling two murder cases this week."

Neville snorted. That's how he laughed--through his nose. When something was truly funny he'd often just stand there, eyes shut, shuddering with laughter and shaking his head as the air passed through his nostrils. "Nah, the Colonel says you've got your hands full with this one. The rest of the Guard are takin' bets on whether you're gonna have a nervous breakdown. So I just came in to check on how you're doing."

Germaine's face softened for the first time that day. "Thanks, Nev.. it's been crazy. I've been racking my brain on this one all day. Nothing. Nothing."

"--Don't get all sentimental on me, Germaine. I meant I was just comin in to see if yer twitchin' yet. I got half a week's pay in this pool, I want to make sure that I'm playing that money smart." Neville cracked a wise grin. "Anyway, see you later pal.. I would tell you to take it easy, but baby needs a new pair 'a shoes."

Neville slipped out of the doorway. A instant later his head reappeared. "You gonna make it to the pub after work?"

"Yeah. But if I'm late, call the mortician." Germaine clawed at his scalp again. "This stack of papers will probably have buried me."