Seven Devils by M. Chris Benner

Author:M. Chris Benner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, romance, thriller, suspense, adventure, mystery, action, comedy, humor, terrorist

the asterisk

PHASE TWO – OPERATION REINFORCED CAR

I check my watch:

1:43 a.m.

We’re parked in darkness a block from the alleyway entrance of Roberts & Dunham Law Offices. Steve has been regaling me with the long, overly-detailed quest he made to procure Mans el-Ray Pasquale’s autopsy report.

“…and I had to find the right med intern before—”

Steve’s in the driver’s seat and I hold my hand up between us, preventing him from continuing. Days earlier, he had gotten the report with the help of an intern. A clever individual picked to have the autopsy of the recently deceased Senate Aid Mans el-Ray Pasquale to be performed at the Main Line Hospital. It was an impressive decision, as this guaranteed an intern-assisted autopsy which, by law, must keep the deceased anonymous to those gathering the data. The person had succeeded in removing the hospital’s record of the autopsy results; however, there are two separate systems for back-up in a college hospital, student and staff.

“Thanks for getting the report,” I say once again, “but you don’t need to tell me every detail. I appreciate it. Really. Do we know why the autopsy, forged or otherwise, never made it to records?”

“No. As there were no formal charges, it should exist in some form or another,” Augustus says over the line. He’s in his hotel room noisily opening the plastic on a Twinkie.

“So we got, what?” I think aloud, “Someone covered up a murder. Made it look subtle, called it pneumonia. Who can explain how to explode lungs?”

The autopsy report said that Mans el-Ray Pasquale was in perfect health except for a severe burn to his esophagus and partial disintegration of both lungs.

“Not especially difficult if you have resources,” Steve eagerly refers to his story again, “the med student told me. Something similar to dry ice but in a condensed form, or a condensed container. Something like that.”

“Like an inhaler? But why?” I ask, unable to put it together. “Why so elaborate? Did something get screwed up? Someone make a mistake? Was this what they wanted? I mean, it just doesn’t make sense. You want him out of the equation, kill him in an alleyway. People get killed in Philadelphia all the time. Why leave so many loose ends?”

“Out-out-out,” Steve says hurriedly, removing the miniscule blue tooth from his ear; he hands the waxy device to me, along with his phone.

“Good luck,” Travis wishes him, though Steve can no longer hear it.

I open the passenger door, ducking out of the car and into the darkness of the alleyway. The night is warm and, once clear of the car, I stand to walk inconspicuously, turning out of the alley and down the street. A homeless man sleeps against the base of a boarded up, long abandoned store. There’s a shadowy figure beside a front stoop smoking a cigarette, his head turning to follow my casual pace. At the end of the block (where a Stop sign has sloppy black graffiti reading the ubiquitous DICK), I turn right to circle long-ways.

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