Last Man's Head by Philip Cox Read Free Book Online Page A

space. He walked quickly up the concrete steps to the main entrance. A uniformed officer was exiting the building and nodded to Leroy as they passed. Leroy returned the nod: the officer’s face seemed familiar, but he was unable to put a name to it. Their paths had obviously crossed in the past.
    Once inside, he strode over to the four elevators: the doors for two of them were already opened. He stepped inside and jabbed at the 5 button. With a faint ping, the doors slid shut. He was momentarily on the fifth floor and walked down a corridor until he came to a white door with a plaque stating:
    Laboratory 2
    Dr Russell Hobson ME
    Medical Examiner
    Leroy pushed open the door and walked in. He had visited this laboratory many times before, and each time was taken back by the contrast between here and his own workplace.  His offices were untidy, with desks and chairs everywhere, paperwork and box files piled on top of filing cabinets, notice boards covered with sheets of paper of varying sizes and colours. Here everything seemed so sterile - which is how it should be, he always reflected – and calm: no frantic hustle and bustle, no phones ringing constantly.
    The laboratory was decorated in white, and the tables, cabinets and cupboards were all a shiny stainless steel. On one side of the laboratory were two tables, each covered by a green rubber sheet. Leroy could tell that each of the two sheets was covering a body.
    Over on the far side of the laboratory, taking up the whole length of the wall, were three wide windows, providing, as he knew from experience, a vista of the San Bernadino Freeway. By one of the windows, at a sink busy washing his hands, was a figure in a white lab coat. The noise of the door closing caused him to turn round. He grinned as he saw Leroy.
    ‘Well, you took your time,’ he laughed, drying his hands.
    ‘Very funny. There are such things as speed limits, you know,’ Leroy retorted as they shook hands.
    ‘Unlike you to observe them. How are you, Sam?’ Hobson asked. ‘How are you this fine Monday morning? Good weekend?’
    ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’
    ‘Didn’t your partner – Quinn…?’
    ‘ Ray Quinn, that’s right.’
    ‘Wasn’t he getting married or something?’
    ‘Or something?’ Leroy laughed.
    ‘You know what I mean. Wasn’t he?’
    ‘Yes, he was. Yes, he did, I should say. That’s why I’m here on my own. He’s off on honeymoon. I was at his wedding as it happened when I got a call about these.’ He indicated over to the two tables. ‘You did call about these, didn’t you?’
    ‘These? Only one of them is yours, buddy.’
    ‘Don’t tell me. The other belongs to Bill Farmer over in Hollywood Division.’
    ‘How’d you know that?’
    ‘That’s why I had to leave the wedding early Saturday. Bill Farmer asked me to go over and look at the scene. Mine was the night before.’
    Hobson nodded.
    ‘Well, that would make sense,’ he said as he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Were the crime scenes similar?’
    Leroy rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Too similar to be coincidental. Two guys early middle age found dressed only in shorts – what do you think? Anyway, the preliminary examinations said they died of cardiac arrest, so at this stage we don’t even know if it was a crime scene.’
    ‘Oh, it was,’ said Hobson as he pulled back both sheets. ‘It was a crime scene.’
     
     

ELEVEN
    Leroy looked down at the faces of the two dead men below. Both were white, early thirties. He recognised both faces, one from the Century City parking lot, the other from the Hollywood back street.
    ‘The prelim exam said cardiac arrest. No suspicious circumstances, we guessed. After the first, that is.’
    ‘And after Farmer showed you this one?’
    ‘Thought it one hell of a coincidence to be sure, but that’s why I was waiting on you. Is Bill Farmer coming over, by the way?’
    ‘I called him after I had hung up on you. He’s tied up in