Free Shell Shocked (The Cosmic Carapace, #1) by Barnaby Yard Page A

human body. There were no windows set in the blue walls, just shelf upon shelf. Spencer assumed they were below street level, presumably the bodies were down here too. Becky had brought out the handkerchief again.
    “I'm sorry I don't understand, I was told she was here?”
    “No, I'm afraid I don't understand Miss?”
    “Mrs Baker, this is my husband Tom.” Spencer stifled a giddy laugh at being referred to as her husband by burying his face into his mug of tea which was in the shape of a toe tag.
    “I see... The thing is Mrs Baker, that I was assured that the young woman I was brought last night had no living family. I was also told that if anyone came here claiming to be family I should call this number.” He held up a business card which glinted with silver in the light from the gas lamps dotted around the room.
    “And if you did call, who would be on the other end?” Spencer asked. Albert smiled again.
    “I think the more pertinent question is what would they do with the information that you were here once they had got it? Why do you want to see this woman, who I'm fairly sure isn't your sister?” Spencer looked at Becky, he wasn't going to answer this one, to be honest he wasn't sure himself.
    “Ok Mr Bulber, I'll be straight with you. We work for an organisation that investigates suspicious and unusual deaths which we think may be related to our special area of expertise... which is classified. If the person who gave you that card told you to contact them, then you can if you wish, but I don't think you do, or you would have done it by now.” Bulber stood up and smiled.
    “You're very perceptive Mrs Baker, follow me.” He walked to the door and flicked a small lever next to it.
    “I think I'll turn off my little storm for now don't you?” He moved into the corridor with what they now realised was a strange gait. His legs seemed to swing out wider than was strictly necessary, making him look like he'd sat on a horse for too long.
    Now lit normally by more gas lamps that had fired into existence the corridor didn't look any less strange. Theatrical cobwebs lined every corner, occasionally a fake skeleton leered down from the ceiling where it had been pinned. Spencer hit his head on a particularly low hanging one.
    “Nice decor, kind of a haunted house theme is it?” 
    “Yes, it is amusing isn't it? You should see people's faces when they have to come down here! Quite marvellous.”
    Spencer and Becky exchanged a look that if vocalised, would have certainly said something along the lines of, “This man, who is leading us to a dark room underground, which contains bodies, is clearly one dried raisin away from being an entire fruit cake.”
    They arrived at a very solid looking metal door. Why it needed to be so solid and foreboding was anyone's guess, but it was. Albert hefted it open, a tongue of incredibly cool air shot out and lapped at their faces, turning their breath into cloud forms.
    A dark slate floor led to three long walls to the sides and front of them, each lined with metal drawer fronts, each about big enough to fit a human body. In the middle of the room was a metal table, on top of which was clearly a body covered by a white sheet. Implements that made Spencer's stomach turn a little, were scattered across another small table pulled up alongside. Blades, tongs and pliers all shone in the glow of the bank of oil lamps which hung on a wooden beam above the table. Albert moved to the other side of the table and looked at them with a solemn frown.
    “I've seen a lot of cart accidents, and a lot of injuries from them, but I have never seen anything like this.” He swept back the sheet and uncovered the woman's face. Or at least, where her face should have been. Spencer felt his stomach lurch and he turned away before the bacon sandwiches reappeared in an unpleasant manner. The woman's face had been completely destroyed, there was almost nothing remaining of her features, just a pulpy