The Kite Maker

The medical examiner positioned the corpse’s belongings on the table with such care it made Benjamin even more sick to his stomach. He was about to lose his Whopper after seeing the disemboweled man laid out on the slab, and now the ME uses a side table to neatly catalog the poor guy’s personal stuff.

“Wow, look at the hole in his head,” Rusty said. “What caliber do you think did that?”

“Not sure yet. You and Benjamin need to give me some time. I’m not a miracle worker. I’ve got three bodies standing in line, make that four, including your hole-in-the-head.” The ME began to take notes on a pad that had stains on it, either from his lunch or someone’s body fluids. “Benjamin? Could you toss me another pen, I’m out of ink here. Try not to throw up on it.”

“Funny,” said Benjamin. “Try showing some respect for the dead guys. Save your jokes for the court room.”

Rusty and Benjamin had been partners for a few weeks and this was their first murder case. “Ok, guys. Let’s get to work,” Rusty said.

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