Written by Phil Colvin, Sun Sep 13 8:47:08 US/Pacific 1998
Chapter 1
ALLEY, NEW ORLEANS
USA
SEPTEMBER 1ST, 1998
02:30 AM
“Maybe it’s just the moonlight, but I think that’s a real nice corpse” said Detective Franklin Mosely emphatically as he stared down at the crumpled body in front of him. Officer Franks just shot him a glare. Mosely didn’t notice. “I’ve seen a heck of a lot of these things, and as far as corpses go, this one ranks near the top of my all time favourites list. What do you think, Franks?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you think it’s a nice corpse? On a scale of one to ten?”
“OK, so it’s real nice corpse, definitely a nine, I’ll quote you on that in the official report.”, sighed Franks impatiently, she didn’t want to be standing here in the middle of the night having to deal with this. And she especially didn’t want to be talking about how nice the corpse was, either. Maybe Mosely was finally going crazy. “Can we wrap it up, now?” she asked.
“Yeah, do what you like.” Mosely moved away back down the alley towards the flashing reds and blues of the squad car. Behind him, Franks was left to direct the clean up squad. Weird guys, those clean up people. How did they get into a job like this? Was it an ambition from childhood? ‘Mommy, when I grow up, I want to put dead people in black bags and throw them away.’ Mid you, at least it was more civilised than the bomb squad. ‘Mommy, when I grow up I want to put little gory pieces of people in black bags and throw them away.’
Franks followed him down the alley and yawned. She should be grateful, really. She had been shortlisted for promotion for months but hadn't done anything which could earn her a ticket out of desk work. Mosely had promiced her a crack with him on his next case, he'd pulled a lot of strings to do that. She was grateful, yes. But also freezing cold. She reached the main street and went for the glove compartment of the car. There was half a bottle of Mosely’s favourite liquor in there. She swigged heavily.
“Drinking on duty, Franks?”,. sighed Mosely, “They can suspend you for that.”
“If they have the right to get me up at 2 AM to clean up corpses, I have the right to at least warm myself up. You want some?”
“Nah, I had half the bottle before I came down here. And I dunno what you’re complaining about! That was one heck of a nice corpse.”
“You know how it is, Mosely...You see one corpse, you’ve seen ‘em all.”
“Not this one, Franks. This is a real classy corpse. I kinda feel glad that I took the effort to get down here. It’s moments like that which make me all warm inside and happy that I’m in this line of work.”
“You’re sick, you know that?”
“Just doin’ my job. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride back to the station.”
NEW ORLEANS POLICE DEPARTMENT
Mosely’s nice corpse was at the moment having an nice police surgeon dig into it with several sharp implements. Franks stared around the empty desks and wished she was elsewhere. The only other light in the station was form Mosely’s office. She went in to find the detective busily scribbling notes on a large map pinned to the wall. She watched him, intently.
“Third corpse in five nights, Franks.” said Mosely as he circled the area where the body had been found. “Must be hunting season.”
“We’ll have to wait for the report to come back from the coroner...”
“Let me have a guess. Six bullets in the chest, circular pattern, no other marks on the body and slight traces of soft drugs found in the blood.”
“That’s the same as the other victims, you think these are all linked?”
“I’d bet my right buttock.” Franks glanced around the office. Not that it was particularly pleasing to the eyes, if any of Mosely’s superiors ever bothered to come in here he could forget that idea about promotion. The picture on the desk caught her eye in particular. Mosely and the young brunette. Both of them smiling.
“How’s Annie?” She asked, Mosely grunted.
“Fine, I’d imagine.”
“You should call her.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mosely, everyone in the department knows you’re still crazy about her....”
“Hey! Who are you, a frickin’ marriage councillor?”
“It was just a suggestion.”
“Don’t suggest, you’re not paid to suggest.”
“Well, fine. If you want to go into old age a lonely old bum who nobody gives a about....”
“Sounds good to me. I hang around enough stinckin’ corpses, anyway.” He went back to his work. But Franks had seen him from time, looking at that photo wistfully. Sometimes even going to pick up the phone. But her never did. And then he would find some work to bury himself into and forget about his feelings. Mosely was an emotional wreck, but at least without emotions he managed to keep a clear head on the cases. He had nothing else to fill his head with.
“The papers will want a statement”, sighed Franks, “I’m already hearing rumours that this’ll be put about like another Voodoo Murders case. I believe that the working title is ‘The Midnight Murders’”
“You know the papers, Franks. They’ll print any old crap.”
“Yeah, but remember the last time? When that ‘friend’ of your serialised the whole thing? The high brass went nuts!”
“Some people just can’t take a little constructive imagination.”
“I remember they had YOUR on the slate for that one.”
“I thought I was helping the guy write a book, I didn’t realise he’d use it as a statement about police inefficiency.”
“Do you still talk to that guy?”
“Occasionally. He’s real busy with his high-flying life style nowadays. He doesn’t give a flying toss about his old friends.” Mosely was bitter, and nobody could blame him. He was the sort of guy who could count his number of close friends on one hand and still have five fingers to spare. Franks was about to ask Mosely his thoughts on their case when the phone rang. Mosely picked it up and nodded a few times before hanging up.
“Get your jacket, Franks. We’re off to the morgue.”
“Aww, come on, Mosely...I’ve been up half the night already!”
“Fine, we can do this tomorrow. Of course, these corpses always smell worse when you leave them for a few hours...”
“I’ll wait in the car.”, she sighed. She slammed the door on her way out. Mosely watched her rear all the way from the desk out of the door. She was hot, real hot. And he was...well, out of luck basically. She probably had guys coming out of her ears anyway, probably didn’t have time to even think about ‘bloated old Franklin’, let alone anything else.
He looked at the photo of Annie. He could phone her, just to ask how things were. Not that he was getting his hopes up, she hadn’t exactly been bothering to keep in contact with him except for the odd Christmas card and letter. Maybe after he’d solved this case and got it out of his head, then he’d call her. Just get the bad stuff away before starting on the emotional stuff...but then, he said that every time he thought of calling her. Every case in the last six years.
He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the car’s hooter. Franks was getting impatient. He grabbed his jacket and went out of the door.
POLICE MORGUE
03:23 AM
The corpse was grinning at him. Mosely was certain that the strange twisted postion of those lips was actually a grin. He gave it a dirty look whilst the pathologist continued talking.
“...as with the other victims, I found a small quantity of drugs in the blood. And for the first time, I’ve actually been managed to identify them as amphetamines. But other than that and the gunshots, there’s nothing really to say. Looks like another standard gangland killing.”
“Three times in five nights? The rate those gangland boys are killing, there won’t be any left for us”, said Franks as the pathologist began wrapping up the lower half of the torso. Unlike Mosely, she didn't get thrills out of the dead bodies. They just made her feel sick.
“Sounds good to me”, sighed Mosely. "It makes our job one hell of a lot easier."
“Did you want anything else?”, asked the pathologist.
“Nah, just bag it, tag it, burn it and scatter it”, said Mosely. He took another look at the morbid face, “Whatcha lookin’ at, pal?” he murmured before walking away. Franks took the pathology report from the table and followed.
“Maybe we should just close this case and let them all kill each other”, she sighed. ”We just aren’t getting anywhere.”
“You may not, but I’m getting a few suspicions. That amphetamine discovery rings a few bells....”, murmured the Detective as they got into the squad car.
“Oh, really? Care to share them with the less well informed?”
“Just watch the master do his work”, smiled Mosely. “Let’s go.”
“Where to?”
“Colloso’s Night Club.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“French Quarter, not far from the Royal and Conti.”
“Is that where you guys go for entertainment in between shifts?”
“I heard that Frick goes down there, mind you, he’ll go anywhere if you give him a doughnut.”
“What is it? A bar?”
“A strip club.”
If you have any comments, you can email Phil Colvin at sculder_mully@geocities.com.
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