“What?”
“The body was … soft. Folded up like a towel.”
I paused. “Folded?”
“Come and see.”
I went over with him. Members of the investigation team were taking pictures, talking quietly. The coroner, a small woman in a navy suit, nodded but said nothing, just took a step back.
The body was skin and hair in a pool of blood, neatly folded up into a pile. Rather than a human body, the form was alien. A blood-shot brown eye stared back at me through strands of dark hair with a hint of red.
“There’s no bones,” Lars said from beside me. “They … they’ve all gone. There needs to be a full examination, but there’s nothing.”
“What about teeth?”
“It doesn’t look like they’re intact.”
I couldn’t tell where the mouth would be amid all those folds of flesh. I’d seen some horrifying scenes before, and this was up there with the worst of them.
“Do you think it could be Mrs. Visser?” I asked.
“We don’t know for sure yet. There’s no identification around. All we’ve got to go on is that the hair matches the description Mr. Visser gave us.”
Mr. Visser had told me his wife had dark hair with a red streak. She‘d refused to let it go gray. The hair on this pile of skin matched that description.
“It could be a coincidence,” Lars said.
“If only life were that simple.”
“You have any idea of what this could be? Why something would want to remove bones?”
“I’ll need to research it,” I replied. “Could be a manticore.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re of Persian myth, looks like an Egyptian sphinx. It likes bones. But I don’t remember reading about it leaving skin behind—no part of its meal wasted.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“There also hasn’t been a case of a manticore attack for decades, as far as I know. I’ll need to look into it.”
“Thank you.”
Not everyone in the police force was happy to have us around. Prejudice against the supernatural community was very real, accounting for many violent crimes.
“When will you contact Mr. Visser for a formal ID?” I asked.
“As soon as we’re given the all-clear. I don’t know how long that will be.” He looked into the dark metro tunnel. “No one saw anything, and there’s nothing on the security cameras.”
I followed his eyes to the tunnel.
“Do manticores like tunnels?” he asked.
“I’ll have to check that.”
“No. The camera would’ve picked up on something.”
“Not necessarily. Whatever, or whoever, did this may have the ability of invisibility.”
His head snapped round to me. “Shit. Really?”
“Witches and warlocks can do it with spells. It’s not easy but doable. Also, some of the fae have abilities that help them stalk prey.”
“But you’re fae.”
“Half-fae. And not all of us look human. There are all sorts. Pixies are the prime example of fae invisibility usage, but they eat bugs.”
“What about manticores? Do they turn invisible?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you mind staying here for a while to see if any further details come up?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. Does anything catch your eye with the scene? Something I’m missing?”
“Not yet. But let me take a look around.”
“That’d be great.”
“Could be a pod-born.”
He nodded.
He didn’t say anything, moving his eyes back to the tunnel. “I hate it down here. You never know what could be lurking around.”
“Try not to think about it.”
“I prefer a bike or tram. I like to see where I’m going.”
“With you on that one, buddy.”
The body was eventually moved to the morgue. I followed Lars’s car to Bosje Hospital.
Before I went inside, I called Jake.
“Hi ya,” he answered.
I explained everything to him. “So, now I’m at the morgue.”
“Bloody hell! Do you need me to come over?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll keep you posted.”
“That’s awful. Okay. Speak later.”
After terminating the call, I went with Lars to sign in and headed into the changing rooms.
I didn’t have to be present for the autopsy, only receive the report at the end, but I like to be a witness to proceedings if I can. In this case, I really wanted to see things for myself.
I put on the green scrubs provided for me, looking like a TV doctor. Our favorite medical drama was on hiatus after a pod-related incident had resulted in a major cast member decapitating herself. She was still alive, her head in a jar. Rumor had it she was coming back for the next season.
By the time I’d dressed and signed some paperwork to say I was going to be present for the autopsy, fifteen minutes had passed by.
The pathologist, a small, dark-skinned woman with the biggest glasses I’d ever seen, greeted me outside the door to the autopsy room as I got myself some latex gloves.
“Hallo. I am Dr. Geels. Would you like some coffee?” she asked in Dutch.
“No, thank you.”
“I’m in need of a pastry and caffeine. But duty first. Come with me.”
Lars was waiting in the small cafeteria, leaving me to it.
Inside the pure chrome room, on an operating table, was the pile of grotesqueness that was probably Mrs. Visser.
Dr. Geels began by stating our names and the time. Then she carefully lifted the first fold of skin, exposing another fold which looked like it may be the bottom half of her face. Was that her chin?
Fold after fold was lifted until the flat body of a woman was revealed. I watched Dr. Geels make the appropriate cuts into the papery flesh, lifting out organs that were just as flat as if they’d been compressed.
“Well, what a shock,” the doctor proclaimed. “I was expecting lacerations, any form of tearing to the body, yet there is the only one on her stomach. It is as if something has pulled her out of her own belly.”
She showed me the hole. “How is that possible?”
“It has been stretched, as you can see by the tears along here.” She pointed out each tiny tear around the hole.
“Not the work of any human, then,” I said.
“I think not, Mr. Tseng. Let us use the MagiScanner.”
I had a sort-of similar device to the MagiScanner she was talking about that I used in detective
