Kiss & Die - Lee Weeks [8]
He rushed to answer it. He squinted at the bright security light at the entrance haloed in moths. He was ready for her, he opened the door and stepped back, startled as he saw Mann standing there. He craned his neck to look past him into the darkness to see if there was anyone else and then he shook his head, agitated, disappointed: ‘Fuck.’
He stood back to allow Mann inside, then he scurried behind him almost tripping over in his haste to overtake him and get through the doors first. ‘Fuck. Shit. Too late now.’
Inside the autopsy room he turned and stared at Mann. He couldn’t take his eyes from Mann’s face. He remembered all too well every bereaved, haunted person who ever stood in that place. He felt the sorrow as well as the beauty of death: he collected it like a library of loss. When he looked at Mann he remembered the dead person that Mann had loved. He remembered Helen. Kin Tak had developed his senses to a point where he could see the restless spirits as they followed the living around. Helen followed Mann. She hadn’t always done. She had come back for a reason now. With a shiver, he unfroze his stare.
Mann followed him into the curtain of cold that lay behind the mortuary door. The place was always the same; even though it had recently had a facelift – new equipment, tables, the works – it still smelt the same: formaldehyde and meat.
‘How’s it going, KT? I hope you don’t mind me dropping in. I knew you’d be here. Is the autopsy completed on the Indian girl brought in last night?’ Mann looked over at the girl’s body laid out on the autopsy table.
‘Yes, very busy. Just finishing.’
‘I want to know your opinion about the weapon that was used to cut off her hands. What can you tell me?’
‘Ah. She was killed when her throat was cut. But…’
‘Yes?’
‘She would probably have bled to death just as quickly. The severing of her hands cut through the main artery. The blood must have been everywhere.’ Kin Tak’s eyes darted from Mann to the girl.
His eyes settled back on Mann and he waited. He wasn’t prepared to go on until Mann had met his side of the deal. Give a little: get a little in exchange. Give and take. Mann understood. In Kin Tak’s dead world his entire existence relied upon the knowledge of the whole story; he must know every detail about the death and how they came to have a date of birth on the outside of their mortuary drawer and a date of death ticket wrapped around their toe. But Mann could see that as much as Kin Tak wanted to know the details, he kept looking at the clock on the wall – he was nervous.
‘There must have been two hundred people there. She was part of a Triad initiation ceremony. We don’t know why she was killed. I found her in a dungeon. She was hog tied, her throat had been cut. I found her hands in the box.’
‘Okay, thank you, Inspector.’ He held up his hand, closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. ‘That’s all I need to know.’ He snapped his eyes back open and stood up straight, business-like. ‘I can tell you, Inspector, that, after my examination, I conclude that her hands were severed by something other than a chopper or a saw, or a knife. They were severed by something as sharp as a razor but with three blades to it. It bit into her wrists, it snagged there and it cut right through. Yes, each cut is clean but there are so many that her wrist was torn apart.’
‘Have you ever seen that kind of damage before?’
‘No. Now you must excuse me, Inspector. I have much to do and the morning is coming. It is good to see you, come again soon.’ Kin Tak paused and turned and looked at Mann, as if he wanted to say something, then he shook his head and scurried on towards the door.
Mann walked back across the gravel car park to his car, his feet crunching on the surface. When he got to his car he paused and stood there for a few seconds. Whether it was the sound of his feet on the gravel or the smell of the shrubs around the edge of the car park that had done