unusual to say the least. The body was perfectly preserved but no embalming fluid had been used. It was also completely nude.'
'Can I have a look?'
'Of course....'
The Greek doctor had studied at Harvard and he spoke perfect English. Various internal organs were laid out on a white shelf. The body, or what was left of it, was in a fetal position.
'Considering that this boy has been dead at least a month, the internal organs are in a remarkable state of preservation,' said the doctor.
I looked at the body. Pubic, rectal and leg hairs were bright red. However, he was redder than he should have been. I pointed to some red blotches around the nipples, crotch, thighs and buttocks. 'What's that? Looks like some kind of rash.'
'I was wondering about that.... Of course it could have been an allergy. Redheads are particularly liable to allergic reactions, but—' He paused. 'It looks like scarlet fever.'
'We are checking all hospitals and private clinics for scarlet fever admissions,' Dimitri put in, '... or any other condition that could produce such a rash.'
I turned to the doctor. 'Doctor, would you say that the amputation was a professional job?'
'Definitely.'
'All questionable doctors and clinics will be checked,' said Dimitri.
The preservative seemed to be wearing off, and the body gave off a sweet musky smell that turned me quite sick. I could see Dimitri was feeling it too, and so was the doctor.
'Can I see the trunk?'
The trunk was built like an icebox: a layer of cork, and the inside lined with thin steel.
'The steel is magnetized,' Dimitri told me. 'Look.' he took out his car keys and they stuck to the side of the trunk.
'Could this have had any preservative effect?'
'The doctor says no.'
Dimitri drove me back to the Hilton. 'Well, it looks like your case is closed, Mr. Snide.'
'I guess so ... any chance of keeping this out of the papers?'
'Yes. This is not America. Besides, a thing like this, you understand ...'
'Bad for the tourist business.'
'Well, yes.'
I had a call to make to the next of kin. 'Afraid I have some bad news for you, Mr. Green.'
'Yes?'
'Well, the boy has been found.'
'Dead, you mean?'
'I'm sorry, Mr. Green....'
'Was he murdered?'
'What makes you say that?'
'It's my wife. She's sort of, well, psychic. She had a dream.'
