The Executioner

Sixteen

Insomnia is a very unpredictable condition and it affects people in different ways. It can kick in before you go to bed or it can torture you, allowing you to fall asleep for an hour or so before creeping in and keeping you awake for the rest of the night. In the United States, one in five people suffer from it.

After spending most of the night researching on the internet, Hunter managed only a couple of hours’ sleep before his brain was wide awake again. The images of the church and Father Fabian’s murder played at the back of his mind like a film stuck on an agonizing loop. To disconnect, Hunter hit the gym at 4:00 a.m.

At 6:00 a.m., after a heavy workout and a hot shower, Hunter was staring out of the window of his small one-bedroom apartment in south Los Angeles. He was trying to organize his thoughts when his cell phone rang.

‘Detective Hunter speaking.’

‘Robert, it’s Jonathan Winston here.’

Hunter checked his watch. ‘What’s the matter, doc? Can’t sleep?’

‘At my age I rarely sleep past five in the morning anyway, but I ain’t calling to discuss my sleeping habits.’

The ominous tone in Doctor Winston’s voice cleared the grin from Hunter’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Well, you’d better get your partner and get here. I need you to see something before I start the autopsy on the decapitated priest.’

‘Before you start the examination?’ Hunter enquired skeptically.

‘That’s right.’

‘Are you at the County Coroner’s?’

‘Yep.’

‘I’ll call Carlos. We’ll be there in half an hour, doc.’