When Vic arrived, my employer asked him to examine the two bodies. I helped him remove their clothes and lay them out side by side on the floor. This was not pleasant, but it was far from the most distasteful job I'd ever done for my employer. Over the years, I've developed the ability to disengage my feelings for short periods of time while doing that sort of work.
Vic examined both bodies carefully, then he turned to us. "It must have been quite a fight," he said. "There are multiple wounds on both bodies. The Black man," he gestured at Jasper, "he didn't die fast. Just too many injuries and too much loss of blood. The white guy," he gestured at the "creature," "had a few cuts and scratches, but a single wound killed him. In the back, deep, right into the heart. That would have been fast."
Jan Sleet nodded as if this confirmed a suspicion of hers, but that didn't mean anything. She always did that, especially if she knew I was watching her.
"Would that wound have bled a lot?" she asked.
He nodded. "Almost certainly."
She sat down wearily and closed her eyes. Vic waited a moment, then he said, "I have someone downstairs with the cart. Do you want me to–"
"Yes," she said, opening her eyes. "Take the bodies."
"Do you want–"
"No, no autopsy." She shook her head. "I know what you'd find."
After Vic and the bodies were gone, she leaned back and closed her eyes again for a moment.
Then there was a knock at the door and I opened it. Pat stepped in, and then she saw all the blood.
"Come on in," Jan called. "This won't take long, but we have to do it here."
Pat came in and sat very gingerly on the edge of a straight-backed chair.
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