Lady of Silver (Blood & Silver) by Shona Husk

Author:Shona Husk [Husk, Shona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-02-21T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

The morgue was always too clean, too pristine, too orderly for what happened on the tables. The reality was neatly hidden away in shiny metal draws.

AJ opened one and rolled out the tray. “Police divers retrieved the body. He drowned after taking a leap off Stirling Bridge.”

As much as Dale liked the calm of the morgue and the sharp silence, he really didn’t have time for AJ’s mysteries today. “Why’d you call me for suicide?”

“Ah.” AJ pulled back the sheet like a magician completing a trick. “Tom Blunt looked familiar.”

“Fuck.” Dale raked his fingers through his hair. The trail bike rider had taken his last ride.

“He was at the Girrawheen Goth scene.”

He’d also been at Saba’s last night. Where had Dale touched him? Back of his shirt. Had he worn the same clothes when he’d jumped? If AJ found anything on the body that connected him to Dale, it was going to look really bad. The smell of disinfectant and death gripped his stomach.

“Yeah. And now he’s dead.” Dale cast his gaze over the body. A fresh burn marred the corpse’s right palm. Why attack Saba, then jump in the morning? “Do you know how it happened?”

“TV station got it all on camera. He went quiet just as he stepped off. Then he started screaming like he’d made a terrible mistake.”

Dale’s gaze snapped up from the body of trail bike Tom, to AJ. “You’ve seen the tape?”

“It’s running every hour. The lead story.” AJ pointed to the clock on the wall. Five to three. “If you’re quick you might catch it in the staff room.”

“Let me know if you find anything.” But there would be no useable evidence. The body would be free of all trace. That was Gwinfor’s calling card.

“What are you looking for?”

“A connection to Paradise, Knife, or the other two women,” Dale said as he walked out of the morgue. The door swung closed behind him.

He took the stairs two at a time and made it to the staff room with thirty seconds to spare. The television was on, talking to an empty room. The anchor came on with the update on the day’s news, and sure enough trail bike Tom was on the bridge yelling and ranting about end of the world and demonic possession. His body moved awkwardly as if his muscles were going against his will. He swung his legs over the railing and balanced on the edge. He started shaking and saying he didn’t want to die. Begging to be let go, for a priest, for help. Tears streaked his face. Dale swallowed the cold horror crawling out of his gut and forced himself to watch to the end.

As Tom’s foot stepped out onto the air, his face went slack, like he was already gone for just a moment. Then Tom was back, mouth open in a silent scream all the way to the—the footage cut away to the vulturous onlookers and the banked up traffic.

The reporter talked on, but Dale didn’t hear a word.

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