Free Memorial Day: A Mick Callahan Novel (The Mick Callahan Novels) by Harry Shannon Page A

offense."
    "None taken."
    We walked. "Hey Callahan," Doc said. "You know why the penis has a big head on top of it? That's so your fist won't slip off, hit you in the forehead, and knock you out cold. Har har. Get it?"
    There were two entrances to Doc's vet hospital. The front of the building faced Main and the back door was on Station Street. The three of us crossed the railway tracks and the empty, littered parking lot. Doc fumbled for his keys and unlocked the back door. He slid open a large metal panel.
    The interior of the lab was surprisingly spotless. Stainless steel sinks and tables; clean and gleaming surgical instruments. There was a large refrigerated area near the back, where pathology work could be performed on livestock that had died under suspicious circumstances. Doc slid another huge metal panel to one side. The sound rang and clanged like the door to a cellblock.
    Two rolling carts stood isolated in the middle of the room, each covered with a white sheet. The man from the alley lay on his side because rigor mortis had locked his hands behind his back. He had black hair; his coarse features were distorted from the blow to the back of his head. His digits were like little swollen sausages, the amputated fingertips grotesque. I studied him for a moment; stalling, because I didn't want to look at Sandy.
    Bass spoke. "You keeping your mouth shut, like I asked?"
    "I haven't said a word to anyone in town," I said, truthfully. Hal didn't count. "Any luck identifying him?"
    Bass shook his head. "Not yet."
    "He was shot, right?" I asked. "You said you were looking for a cartridge but you couldn't find one."
    "Wasn't a gunshot," Doc drawled. "Not in my opinion. Up close, that wound reads like penetration with a pointed object, maybe an iron pick or a spike, something like that."
    I nodded. "Less sound that way."
    "And then the perp tried to smash out all his teeth, but he missed a bunch. Maybe got startled before he was done. So the coroner might be able to ID this guy from dental records, once they have an idea who he was."
    "Let's get this done," Bass said. He motioned to the other cart and the white sheet covering it. I saw small, vulgar reddish stains. A shock of long blonde hair emerged from one end of the sheet, tiny bare feet from the other. I shivered and had an absurd urge to rub her toes, thinking she must be cold.
    Doc strolled over and pulled the sheet down with a flourish, baring her to the waist. Sandy Palmer's once-lovely features were now flat, bruised, and waxen. Her eyes were still open, the left one bulging and dark with blood. She was naked, her breasts exposed. It seemed obscene. "I thought you weren't going to do an autopsy?"
    Doc smiled. "I ain't. Just want to make a point."
    There was something strange about those eyes. I realized I'd stopped breathing, finally let some air out. "What point?"
    Doc pulled the sheet down a bit further. He drummed his fingers on a slightly swollen abdomen, palpitated slightly. "I think she was pregnant," he said. "Maybe a couple of months along."
    Bass seemed weary, beaten down. "So okay, just for the record, with Doc here, tell me Sandy Palmer is the girl from the park and the one that called you on the air. This is her, right?"
    I nodded, sadly. "Yes. That's her." I realized Sandy and I were a lot alike; both raised on a lonely ranch in the middle of nowhere by an abusive father; lost kids who partied too hard, hoping to find a way out.
    I got down lower, but coming close to that damaged face made me flinch. I crouched and looked around at the back of the head. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, but I knew I had to see.
    "Doc, it was the beating killed her, right?" Bass asked.
    "Maybe not. We got us a subdural hematoma for sure," Doc said. "That much I can tell you. See, her left eye is a mess, but her right eye has a blown pupil, it's all engorged. Girl took a bad beating, that's for sure, but maybe not enough to do her in. But then she fell. Hard.