Heartbreaker, Page 3
Quelli di ZEd
CHAPTER 4
The entrance of Elmond Clinic was white and sterile as a place like that was expected to be. The reception counter looked like an island in the middle of the endless see of the anteroom, scattered of small couches so distant from one another as to convey the idea of being separate worlds, each enclosed in its own intimacy sphere, allowing its inhabitants not to worry of the stares and questions of people outside it.
Strangely, there wasn't anyone waiting.
Shim walked at a fast pace towards the counter, followed by two officers in blue uniform. One was tall and blond, his features clearly human. The height of the other one seemed to be the mathematical average between that of the first and Shim's, and his constitution revealed that there was at least one dwarf between his ancestors. Both had on their uniform the police badge and the mark of the department.
Shim showed its own badge to the receptionist who was staring at him with a questioning look, leaning over the counter in order to see him and, at the same time, trying with poor results not to make obvious that he was doing just that.
«I need to speak with doctor Elmond», the dwarf said.
«If you are so kind as to wait, she will be able to see you in a few moments.»
«It's fine Greg, let the detective in», the voice of a tall and slim woman said. She was peeking out the door of a room from which a girl had just came out. The face of the latter bore a weird mixture of ear-to-ear grin and swelling, tear-filled eyes.
The woman gestured the trio to go in.
Grace Elmond, formerly Gretchen Ealdfeond – a change of name made in compliance to all laws and for reasons the detective didn't find too hard to understand – was one of the most affirmed surgeons in the area, maybe in the whole continent, as well as one of the most powerful necromancers Shim knew of. She had an incredibly high level of authorization to use that art, and all of the contacts needed to make good use of it.
Gaining power in necromancy was always based on sacrifice, a ritual that had to be performed constantly in order to keep one's power intact. The more the power was, the more the required victim of the sacrifice was likely to be something which killing was dangerously illegal. Or, better, it was likely to be someone. Even the few authorized necromancers were obviously not allowed to sacrifice anything more humanoid than a goat, unless they knew the right people. That being the case, there was the chance to be called to perform death sentences of criminals who were just too dangerous to be simply thrown into a cell which key could be lost forever. No one cared if, before the execution, someone consecrated the room to Death, or if some ritual word was spoken during the event itself. In the end for anyone, sentenced included, the result was the same. For anyone but the necromancer.
«Detective Stonehand, how come you are honoring me of your visit?» the doctor asked once she had let Shim in and made him sit. The two officers were left standing close behind him.
Shim looked at her for a second before answering, trying to assess the tone she had used. She had untied her long blond hair, just as she did every time. Shim had never been able to understand whether it was an attempt to seduce him or plain simple ostentation, although he was inclined to believe in the latter.
«I am here to ask for your advice, doctor», he explained. She didn't say anything, just propped her elbows on the desk and her chin on her joined hands, slightly leaning forward as if to ear better. «Is it possible to take the heart of a man with necromancy?» asked the detective. «Leaving the body intact?»
The woman straightened her back, moved back her torso and left her hands fall.
«Don't insult my intelligence, detective. You know more than enough about this matters, you don't need my answer», she said in an arrogant tone. «If what you are trying to ask is whether I used necromancy to remove a heart, the answer is yes, I did. Three times last month. Three perfectly successful and duly recorded transplants, I am willing to deliver you a copy of the clinical file and save you the time for an official request.»
«That is not necessary», Shim replied with no alteration, as if the conversation had never left the tones of formal courtesy. «What I need to know is why someone would want to do something like that.»
She gazed at him with a crocodile smile. When she spoke again, she was oozing with courtesy, not a bit more genuine than her grin. «To make room for a new heart. Or to transfer the heart to its new owner. In which case we would be speaking about an organ donor. A dead one.»
«What if the heart was in the chest of a living man?»
«That would be homicide.»
«Thank you for the information», he said with just a slight ironic tilt. «There are many ways to kill someone, and this didn't seem the more straightforward to me.»
«It is undoubtedly straightforward, if you do that to someone who doesn't have a spare heart and cannot make it grow back. But yes, I think there are more straightforward ways. Not with as much scenic effect though. Given there is someone to appreciate it; I don't think the victim would have any time to.»
«Scenic... effect?» The idea that someone could be killed that way just for show made a wave of disgust raise in him.
«You have no idea how many try to secretly record my surgeries to resell them to some weird fetishist, or maybe just spread them around, who knows?»
«Can't you think of any other reason?»
«Don't know. Organ racket maybe.»
«Could be.» Actually it was quite unlikely. Why just the heart, if that were the case? «I suppose», Shim started again «that some expertise is needed for this kind of feat.»
Grace looked at him with a loathing note in his eyes. «It doesn't require much power, but I admit it takes some knowledge, especially unless the victim is willing or incapacitated.»
«Would you be able to make a list of people who could do that?»
«Another question you need no answer to», she answered bitterly. «I am the only one here with enough knowledge to perform something like that. And it was not me who did, for sure I don't have any spare time to rip someone's heart out if not in my operating room, neither I have any reason to do such dirty work in my position.»
Shim believed at least one of the two things she said. The doctor was a ruthless social climber, suffering of omnipotence delirium, and for sure she would not hesitate to kill someone if she had a good reason to, but she would never do that in a way that would allow to connect the homicide to her so easily. She wasn't going to throw her career out the window just like that.
As per her statement that she was the only one who could succeed in doing that, well, that was sheer presumption. Maybe she was the only one among publicly known and officially authorized necromancers to have such power and expertise, but that didn't make her the only one in general.
Several hours and several useless visits later, Shim and his escort were walking through the alleys of one of the poorest areas of the city, a concept that had anyway to be seen from the right perspective and the correct point of view. In reality, the worst neighborhood of Tejarak was probably on the same level as the upper side of some neighboring towns.
They came in view of a shop owned by the last name in the list of official necromancers that the detective had found in his archives. After that, he would have to start looking for the names of his personal black list, people who were suspected of performing necromancy illegally, but against whom there were no proofs.
The shop had been made so macabre that it went all the way to ridicule. It was a small place, whose windows had been painted a dull dark grey, so that their contents could barely be seen. Above the door there was the name, "Death do us parts", in a blood-red paint – actually too red to really seem blood – artfully smeared to make it look as if had been written by someone about to die, or something like that. Right below it there were samples of anatomical parts, mainly legs of chickens and some other unidentified beasts, while on a side of the door two fairly underfed live chicken were clucking, each into its barely large enough cage. A poorly placed sign
over the door, announcing "Supplies and accessories for voodoo, necromancy, spiritism", was maybe the only thing which prevented the shop from being mistaken for a crossbreed between an exotic souvenirs store and a cattle seller.
The owner – a tall and wiry man with a sharp face and eyes constantly moving from one side to the other, as if he was afraid that someone would leap from the shadows and attack him if he just hadn't looked in any given direction for more than ten seconds – came to meet them before they were entirely through the door. He kept his bent elbows upwards and his hands, held at chest height, were writhing continuously, as if they were quarrelling with each other for some unknown reason.
«Whatever happened, it wasn't me who did it», he said in a shrill voice to the detective.
Shim was slightly astonished.
«I didn't say anything happened.»
«But something did!» he insisted, speaking so abruptly that it was hard to single out the individual words. «When someone of your lot comes here, it is always because something happened, and because you think I did it, but I have a business to manage and I have no time to... to... to do what you think I did, whatever it is.»
«You have a license for necromancy...» the dwarf tried to say, hoping for the chance to complete his sentence. His hope was shattered.
«Yes, and for this reason you all think that I have to do mischief, but I have the license! ... not for doing mischief, I mean...»
«I know what you mean, I just need information, OK?»
«Information? Which kind of information? I don't think I have any. If anyone did anything bad I don't see why I should be informed.»
Shim sighed, «If anyone performs necromancy, it is likely they need supplies...»
«Yes, it is likely. But they ought to have a license to buy those. I don't sell anything to people without a license. I abide to the laws, I do.»
«I'm sure you do. And should anyone come here asking for necromancy supplies and fail to show their license...»
«I would not sell them anything. And I would write it into the monthly report.»
«That you would send me at the end of the month.»
«That I would send you and the end of the month», he repeated.
«And that thus you haven't yet sent me.»
«The month isn't over. If it were over I'd had sent it.»
«Yes, right, but I need to know now if there were any strange requests this month.»
«Ah. Why didn't you say that right away. Let me check. If there were any, I will tell you. I only have to check», he kept muttering as he went behind his counter and bent to check something he kept under it. Shim kept an eye on him for the whole time. He seriously doubted that he was going to pull out a weapon or try and cast a spell at him, but this wasn't reason enough to disregard elementary safety rules.
Eventually, actually, he didn't pull out anything, he just straightened with a more nervous expression on his face, if that was even possible.
«Indeed, some fifteen days ago someone requested a large quantity of vampire ashes.»
«Did you sell it to him?»
«No. I didn't have so much, it is rare. Also because you need to kill a vampire to obtain it. And anyway he had no license.»
«So?»
«So I told him I couldn't sell him vampire ashes, even if I had any, and to come back with his license, in which case I would place an order for him.»
«An order?»
«Do you think I would go around hunting vampires?»
«I think hunting vampires is illegal.»
«That depends on the vampire. Depends on the vampire, yes. But almost no one buys vampire ashes these days, especially not in large quantities, this is why it seemed weird to me.»
Shim would have liked to ask him why, if it had seemed that weird, he hadn't immediately informed the department of the visit. Being quite able to imagine the answer, and deciding he just didn't want to stay there and listen to it, he preferred to choose another path for his interrogation.
«What is the use of vampire ashes?»
«It's used to cure vampirism. Before you become a vampire, I mean. Or to raise the dead.»
«I didn't think anything like that was needed to raise the dead.»
«That depends on the dead. If you want some dumb walking corpse, well, you just need to know how. But for big and nasty things you need a little help.»
«Vampire ashes.»
«Vampire ashes, bones dust, ghoul hearts, there are many ways. Vampire ashes are for the worst things.»
«And in such quantities?»
«A lot of worst things.»
