“I’m your only nephew, Uncle Kane.”
“And I’m your only uncle.”
“All that Dad would admit to anyway. How’re you doing today?”
“Fit as a fiddle, but that croaker, Austin, still won’t let me leave. There was some big hubbabaloo ‘round here this morning; they won’t tell me squat.”
“I heard.”
“Anyways, nuthin’ got done today and I’m stuck here ‘til tomorrow at least. You hear what happened today?”
“Yeah, a patient died.”
“Patients croak all the time in hospitals. What’s so dadgum special ‘bout that?”
“Keep your voice down, Uncle Kane, and I’ll tell you.” Kane nodded in agreement. “Remember that story you told me yesterday about that creature who hunts the homeless?”
“The old noodle ain’t what it used to be, but I remember that one all right.”
“According to a source of mine, the lady who died was found with white hair, mouth frozen open and her eyes clawed out.”
“Fuckin’-A!” Kane said as he sat up in bed. “You ain’t shittin’ me, are you, boy? That ain’t no way to treat an old man in a hospital.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Uncle Kane.”
“This is bad, Eddie—real bad. I can’t go nowhere to get away from it bein’ stuck in here. If’n it comes for me, I’m a goner for sure. You gotta get me outta here, Eddie. I’m scared, Eddie.”
“Quiet down! You don’t want anyone hearing you talk about this. And if what you said is true, then you definitely don’t want to show any fear. Isn’t that what you said it feeds on?”
“Yeah, you’re right, Eddie. No fear. But you gotta get me outta here all the same. Can’t you go to the courts, file something legal-like as my only livin’ relative?”
“I doubt it, but I could talk to Dr. Austin for you. Maybe you could come live with me until all this is over. I’m not home that much anyway.”
“How many times are you gonna make that offer? I like where I live, Eddie.”
Ed had had this conversation almost every time they talked and knew it was futile to continue. “Okay, but I could still talk to Dr. Austin.”
“Stay away from that croaker if you know what’s good for ya—and for me. The less he knows about me, the better.”
“Why do you say that? He’s been your doctor for years, hasn’t he?”
“He just signs my prescriptions, but he don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout me. I’ve always been careful about that. I never trusted that croaker.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you know about Dr. Austin.”
“I’ll tell ya what I can recall, but this old noodle ain’t what it used to be. That Austin used to be a real hot shot in the head shrinker business back in the sixties. He basically built this place with all the dough he got from the government or wherever it came from. He had all these new-fangled cures he was always tryin’ out on all of us.”
“What do you mean, ‘all of us’?”
“Us hobos—all of us over in Vagrant-ville. Him and that bitch, Nurse Trish, they used to work hand in hand together. They was always out over there where we lived, always searchin’ for their next victim.”
“Victim?”
“They would find some guy with a problem and make him into their pet. They claimed that all they wanted to do was help all us lost souls get back on our feet; they wanted to cure us so we’d be able to git back into their idea of normal society—or some bullshit like that. They would take their victim back here to the clinic and he’d live here until he was cured or saved or whatever bullshit they did.”
“What happened to the guys they brought back here?”
“Most of the time, we never saw those guys no more.”
“Do you know what happened to them?”
“Some, yeah. Some ended up right back livin’ with us after a couple of months, some ended up gettin’ cured, from Austin’s way of thinkin’, and they got regular jobs and a place to live. But there were plenty others who we just never heard from again. It’s like they vanished into thin air.”
“Maybe they were cured and got homes and jobs in other cities.”
“Some, maybe, but there were . . . stories about what went on in here.”
“What kind of stories, Uncle Kane?”
“The kind you don’t like to hear after dark. And that’s not all. I seen with my own two eyes the ambulances that were always coming and going from here.”
“Uncle Kane, this is a hospital. It’s not unusual to see ambulances coming and going from a hospital.”
“These warn’t the city ambulances. They didn’t have no markings on ‘em, they always came in the dead of night and they never had their lights on. They were his ambulances.”
“His ambulances?”
“Austin’s. He had his own special ambulances.”
“Okay, let’s back up a minute here. Tell me about these stories you heard about this place; the ones that you don’t like to hear after dark.”
“There were some strange goin’-ons in this place when Austin and Trish were runnin’ it. Sometimes on a clear night, you could hear the screams comin’ from here—bloodcurdling screams. I heard ‘em. Others, the ones who got outta there, they’d talk about hearin’ strange whisperings all through the night and they’d talk about havin’ these flashbacks of all sorts of horrible images they seen. Some of ‘em talked about seein’ guys bein’ drug out of there in straight-jackets, covered in blood and screamin’ at the top of their lungs. I knew one guy who was so fucked up in the head after he got outta there that he ended up walkin’ straight out into the water one night. Didn’t try to swim or nuthin’. They found his body a couple of days later washed up on the beach.”
Ed didn’t know what to think at this point. On the one hand, Uncle Kane and the drifters he hung around were known for their “one upsmanship” stories, but on the other hand, Torrie had told him that Dr. Austin had almost lost his license over some failed experiments that happened back in the sixties. Ed had wanted to check on Dr. Austin’s past when Torrie told him those stories, but now, it seemed that he needed to check on Dr. Austin’s past.
“How long did all of this go on?” Ed asked.
“Must’a been a couple of years, at least.”
“And then it just ended?”
“The Feds or someone came in one day and shut him down. The clinic remained open, but Austin and Nurse Trish disappeared for awhile. I don’t know where they went, but then a few months later, they were back. When they got back though, they only treated the ones who came in here of their own accord. We never seen ‘em back over in Vagrant-ville tryin’ to cure all us lost souls. Everything’s been pretty quiet around here since then.”
“You never found out what happened to Dr. Austin or Nurse Trish when they were gone?”
“If anybody knew, I never heard nuthin’ about it. But when they left, that’s the last time I ever heard the screams coming from here . . . and I never saw none of Austin’s special ambulances again. This place turned into what you see here now—it’s pretty much the same as any public health center in any town.”
“Is there anybody else who still lives on Edge Key that you know of who was living here when all of those strange things were happening here back in the sixties?”
“Hmm. This old noodle ain’t what it used to be, Eddie. I’ll have to think about that one.”
“It’s important, Uncle Kane. There might be someone who knows more than you about what went on here,” Ed said. And who can corroborate what you told me, he thought. “There also might be someone who still lives here that can give me some information about Rico.”
“I told you everything I know about Rico.”
“Yeah, I know, but . . . there are some other things I’d like to ask an old-timer who was around when Rico died.”
Ed didn’t want to tell Kane that he wanted to find someone else to ask about the other cases he found this morning—the other strange deaths. Ka
ne might know something about those too, but he wanted Kane to concentrate on one task at a time because Kane’s “noodle ain’t what it used to be.” Ed wondered what it used to be like before.
“Hi, guys. Am I interrupting?” Torrie said as she walked into the room.
“Shit, no,” Kane said. “I was just thinkin’ that this room needed sumthin’ to spruce it up—a pretty lady will always do the job. Eddie, if you got any smarts at all, you’ll grab this little filly before someone else does. I always thought the two of you belonged together.”
“How’re you doing, Uncle Kane?” Torrie asked, ignoring the comment, but blushing nonetheless.
“I could wrassle a full grown grizzly bear and wind up on top. Hey, Torrie, you’re a croaker. Why don’t you tell that old fart Austin to let me go?”
“You’re his patient, Uncle Kane. Only Dr. Austin can release you and he’ll let you go as soon as you’re ready.”
“That son-bitch don’t know his ass from the shit that comes out of it.”
“Uncle Kane! Please! Watch your language in front of Torrie,” Ed said.
“It’s okay,” Torrie said to Ed as she gently grabbed his arm and patted him on the chest. “I’m used to hearing much worse from some of my patients.”
Kane didn’t miss the intimate gesture. “Hey, you two kids don’t wanna spend your time here gabbin’ with a crazy old bum. Y’all get outta here and go do sumthin’ together.”
That was exactly what Ed was thinking, but he didn’t have the heart to say so. Ed thought Uncle Kane’s noodle was working just fine right now.
“I’m done for the day,” Torrie said.
“You sure you don’t mind if I go, Uncle Kane?” Ed asked even though he knew the answer.
“I’ve had enough of you for one day, boy. Scoot,” Kane said as he motioned them out the door.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Ed said. “Try to remember a name for me though, okay?”
“Nag, nag,” Kane said, smiling.
“If you do remember, give me a call at this number,” Ed said as he wrote Torrie’s number down on the back of one of his business cards. “It’s important.”
“I got it already. Now, git. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”
After they’d left Kane’s room and were out of earshot, Torrie asked, “What name is so important?”
“Let’s get some take-out from a nice restaurant, go back to your place, curl up together on the couch and I’ll tell you all about it. Deal?”
“Sounds like a plan, Stan,” she said and hooked her arm in his.
CHAPTER 15
“Bring me out the next stiff, will ya, Shelton,” said the county coroner as he pulled off his rubber gloves. He’d just finished the autopsy of a twelve year old kid who’d been the victim of a stray bullet in a drive-by shooting. It was routine for him.
“Sho thing, Undertaker,” Shelton answered, using the coroner’s nickname.
Shelton was the coroner’s assistant whose main duties consisted of doing the heavy lifting for Undertaker. Undertaker was pushing seventy and couldn’t move the cadavers like he used to when he was younger and the Chief Medical Examiner in Chicago. He finally got tired of the cold winters and retired to the west coast of Florida to live out his golden years. He didn’t realize how boring retirement would be and eventually went back to work as the coroner in the county where he retired to—the same county where Edge Key was located. The county was happy to get someone with his experience. As far as Undertaker was concerned, his current job didn’t have the same excitement as working in Chicago, but it didn’t have the same headaches either. It was almost like being semi-retired, which was fine with Undertaker.
Shelton was about twenty-five and strong as an ox—perfect for his current duties. When he applied for the job as a coroner’s assistant, Shelton thought he was applying for a job as a janitor’s assistant. He’d confused coroner’s assistant with custodian’s assistant. Shelton wouldn’t be winning the Nobel in physics anytime soon, but his current duties only required physical strength—and a strong stomach. It took a certain type of person to work around cadavers all day long, especially when they were being dissected by Undertaker. The gore never seemed to bother Shelton, probably because he was too dimwitted to realize exactly what was going on.
Shelton wheeled out the next body and opened the body bag so he could place it on the dissection table. “Jesus Christ! What this bitch been into!” Shelton said when he saw the body—her hair was an unnatural shade of white; her mouth was frozen open, locked in a perpetual scream; and her eye sockets were empty with dried blood crusted around the edges.
“I don’t know, Shelton. I’ve never seen anything like it, even back in Chicago. This is heinous. Get her onto the table for me and let me see if I can figure this one out.”
Shelton completely removed the cadaver from the body bag, but as he was transferring it over to the dissection table, something fell onto the floor. Shelton almost dropped the body when he saw what it was.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” Shelton said over and over as he stared at the object on the floor.
“Shelton! Come on, get her onto the table! You can do this!”
Shelton managed to finish placing the body on the table and then he backed away from the table. His eyes were wide open in shock and still glued to the object on the floor. He was mouthing the words to something, but no sound was coming out.
Undertaker grabbed some forceps, gently picked up the object on the floor and placed it into a dissection tray. “It’s okay, Shelton. I got it. It’s just one of her eyes. You’ve seen me remove them a hundred times before. There’s nothing different about this one other than it hasn’t been surgically removed. That’s the only reason it looks a little different.”
“That ain’t right. That body’s possessed or sumthin’.”
“She’s dead, Shelton. It’s just an empty frame now. Come on back over here and give me a hand will you.” Shelton didn’t make a move; he was petrified. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I only do this on very special occasions, but I’ll say the magic words that’ll ward off any evil spirits that remain. Okay?”
“You got magic words?” Shelton whispered.
“They teach ‘em to us in medical school, but we’re not supposed to tell anyone who hasn’t taken the Hippocratic oath. I’ll make an exception in your case because you’re my assistant. That almost makes you a brother of Hippocrates.”
“Wow,” Shelton said, although he had no idea of who Hippocrates was, or anything about his oath.
“You got to promise to keep these words secret though. Do you promise?”
“May the good Lord strike me down if I tell another soul.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Undertaker said. Then he raised his hands high in the air over the body and invoked the “magic” words. “I call upon the mighty clavicle and pray to the heavenly brachium to cast away the evil phalanges and restrain the manubrium, the sacrum and the coccyx so that this holy inspection may proceed. We seek the truth, in the name of the fibula, the tibia and the ulna.” Then he lowered his arms and bowed his head.
Shelton looked relieved and he returned to Undertaker’s side at the table. “I didn’t know you possessed such magic, but I sho am grateful. I saw them evil spirits rise up outta her body and vanish when you said those words. We can start now, Undertaker.”
Undertaker smiled. “Okay,” he said as he opened the cadaver’s file and turned on the microphone above the table so he could dictate any findings. “Deceased is a white female, Jane Doe, approximate age is . . .”
Undertaker continued with the preliminary examination, dictating his findings along the way. Before he made any cuts into the body, he took fingerprints and photographs of the body, including her teeth, in the hope that they would eventually be able to identify the deceased. That didn’t seem likely based on the condition of the body. Undertaker had performed countless autopsies on homeless persons and this one
had all the classic indicators of someone who’d been living on the streets for years. He performed the remainder of the autopsy as if going through a checklist, although he didn’t need one. He’d done this thousands of times before.
Undertaker’s preliminary conclusion was that the decedent died from some form of trauma or shock that was so severe that her heart stopped pumping. He also concluded that she gouged out her own eyes, but that was incidental to the cause of death and a direct result of the shock or trauma that caused her death. He’d never seen or read anything like it before. It was a very strange case. Undertaker decided to take tissue samples and run every test he could think of on the off chance that some obvious cause of death would leap out at him, but he didn’t think it would. His gut feeling was that this woman simply experienced something that was so terrifying to her that her mind finally cracked.
When he was done with the autopsy, Undertaker decided to call the Edge Key Police Department to speak with the investigating officer. It was late, but worst case, he could leave a message. After speaking with the police dispatcher, he learned that the case had been assigned to Lieutenant Eric Bischoff. He thought it odd that a lieutenant would be handling a case like this, but Edge Key was a small town. As luck would have it, Bischoff was still there. They exchanged a few pleasantries and were cordial to each other until Undertaker began asking questions about the decedent.
“Look, Doctor,” Bischoff said. “I don’t need no fancy doctor stickin’ his nose into my investigation. I know what I got here.”
“I’m glad you do, Lieutenant, because I’ve been a medical examiner for around forty years and I don’t know why she died. I’m just asking you for some information that will help me piece together what happened before she died.”
“Doctor, I’m only gonna say this once. That lady died from a classic case of suicide and that’s how I want you to write it up—suicide. Are we clear?”
“I hear what you’re saying,” Undertaker said, trying to remain calm, “but it’s my professional opinion that she did not kill herself. She went through a severe trauma induced by-”
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