Definitely Dead by Kate Bendelow (howl and other poems TXT) 📕

and interrupt his train of thought; yet at the same time her nerves were making her impatient.

Maya was reluctant to head upstairs and look at the body on her own. She would rather be with Chris or Doctor Granger, because if truth be known, she wasn’t sure how she was going to react once she saw it. She wondered how decomposed it would be and how much it would smell. She desperately hoped she wouldn’t make a show of herself by being sick or panicking.

She had been dispatched to the scene so quickly she hadn’t had time to ask any questions about the body. She didn’t know the condition it was in or the nature of any injuries. Nobody had told her who had found him or even how old he was; although judging from what she had seen of the house so far, he wasn’t young. She had no idea what to expect and the burgeoning anticipation was making her heart race. Maya tapped on the thick glass door panel.

‘Can I come in?’ She knew she sounded terse despite her best efforts.

Irritated by the continued lack of response, Maya manoeuvred herself decisively over a stepping plate and pushed the door open. The kitchen was even more dishevelled than the other rooms and the smell hit her like a slap. The bin was overflowing, and it appeared that rather than emptying it, the occupant had just continued to throw rubbish in its general direction.

The stained work surfaces were barely visible due to the filthy crockery, beer cans and crumpled-up super-strength cider bottles. The sink was overflowing and appeared to have been used as a bin judging by the empty milk bottles and tea bags which were piled on top of dirty crockery and glasses. Plump bluebottles ricocheted off the window, imprisoned behind a mouldy net curtain, the colour of earwax.

Maya gagged at the intense smell of rotting food, sour milk and decay. She had never experienced anything like the squalor that surrounded her. The dirt and debris of the place was astonishing. Mouse droppings peppered the torn linoleum and she shuddered at the sight; she had a phobia of rodents. The FFP3 face mask did nothing to minimise the cloying stench. The smell was so thick she could almost taste it. She found it inconceivable that someone could live like this.

She turned to speak to Doctor Granger, wondering how he could sit so calmly in such a rancid environment. The words caught in her throat, strangled by shock, as she realised that the mottled glass panel had disguised the fact it wasn’t the pathologist sitting at the table after all.

It was the dead man.

2

Maya took a sharp intake of breath as, wide-eyed, she processed the scene. The dead man was hunched forward, his head resting on the table, half his face lying in a pool of congealed blood. The other half of his face revealed a partially open eye, which was staring vacantly in her general direction. His mouth was slightly open and frozen in a gormless expression. A thick string of jellied mucous hung from his nose.

His arms appeared folded on his lap underneath the table. Lividity had caused his skin to turn a greyish-purple colour. Maya knew this occurred once blood stopped circulating around the body, causing it to gravitate to the lowest point. She was surprised at the almost sinister appearance of the staining. To her untrained eye it looked like heavy bruising. Despite her current lack of experience, she was left in no doubt that this man was definitely dead.

Completely stunned, she managed not to cry out or recoil. Instead, she stood frozen. Fascinated as much as horrified. The sudden sound of footsteps clanging across the stepping plates alerted her to the fact that Chris had returned. Relieved, Maya turned to face him but was distracted by a movement near the back door. Someone was about to walk in. Her nerves were so frayed by now, she let out a small scream as a man emerged through the open back door. He was clad in a full scene suit and carrying an all-weather writer stuffed with handwritten notes.

‘Maya, what’s wrong?’ Chris rushed to her side.

‘Nothing. Well, I mean… it’s just… I said hello and asked if I could come in… the man at the table… but he wasn’t Doctor Granger…’ She took a sharp intake of breath. ‘I mean… him… the body… I assumed that was upstairs… but he’s not… he’s here. And he’s dead. Definitely, definitely dead. Jesus Christ!’

‘For the love of God, Makin. Is she being deliberately obtuse?’ Granger sneered.

‘No, she’s not. Maya hasn’t been with us very long and this is her first body. It would appear she’s not known the full circumstances and it seems she’s had quite a shock.’ Chris placed a protective hand on Maya’s shoulder.

‘I’ve neither the time nor the inclination to listen to excuses. Can you just get him shifted onto a body sheet so I can have a proper look at him? I’m just going to my car to make a phone call. Shout me when you’re ready and try not to take all bloody day.’

Maya let out a sigh of relief when he left. She had been determined to make a good impression at her first death and had already managed to make a complete fool of herself.

‘I am so sorry, Chris. I was convinced for some reason the body was upstairs. It’s probably because the last job I heard about was the one Kym dealt with. The overdose found naked on the bedroom floor?’ Maya groaned with embarrassment. ‘Then when you said Doctor Granger was out the back, I just assumed it was him sat at the table. I couldn’t see properly through the glass panel.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Everyone makes mistakes. Learn from it, get over it and never make assumptions. If you don’t know something, then ask. Are you all right?’ Maya was grateful for his concern and understanding.

‘Yes thanks. I feel