The Executioner

Fifteen

The main facility of the Los Angeles County Department of Coroner is located on North Mission Road, number 1104. The building is an outstanding piece of architecture with hints of Renaissance. Old-fashioned lampposts flank the extravagant entrance stairway. Terracotta bricks and light gray lintels fronted the large hospital-turned-morgue. The whole building looked like it should be part of a prestigious Oxford college.

Criminalistics students Nelson Fenton and Jamaal Jackson still had another hour to go before the end of their night shift. Despite their job being part time and relatively simple, it required a very strong stomach. As forensic technicians for the LACDC, they were expected to transport, undress, photograph, clean and prepare bodies for autopsies.

‘How many more bodies do we have on the list?’ Jamaal asked, pulling his surgical mask down from his mouth and letting it hang loosely around his neck. They’d just finished preparing the body of a sixty-five-year-old man who’d been stabbed fifty-two times by his own son.

‘Two.’ Nelson pointed to the two black polyethylene body bags on the steel tables at the far end of the room.

‘Let’s just get on with it, then.’

First they needed to undress the bodies before thoroughly hosing them down in preparation for the post-mortem. While Jamaal was adjusting the strap on his surgical mask, Nelson approached the larger of the two body bags and unzipped it.

‘Oh shit!’ Nelson said, lifting both hands to his mouth and taking a step back.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Have a look.’

Jamaal checked the unzipped body bag. ‘Oh crap.’ He made a face as if he’d just tasted something bitter. ‘Headless.’

Nelson nodded. ‘But have a look at what he’s wearing.’

Only then Jamaal noticed the priest’s cassock. ‘Oh man, that’s bad. Who the hell would do this to a priest?’

‘Someone with a lot of anger,’ Nelson said, stepping forward again.

‘I’m not Catholic or nothing, but this is just…’ Jamaal shook his head without finishing the sentence. ‘This city’s messed up, man. Violence everywhere.’

‘The whole world’s messed up, dude. Let’s just finish this and get the hell out of here. I’ve had enough for today.’

‘You can say that again.’

They unbuttoned the cassock, pulled it open and froze.

‘Holy shit,’ Nelson whispered.

‘I think we better get Doctor Winston on the phone. Right now.’