Douglas picked up the bag and handed it to me. "This is the report about your brother's death. The coroner's and mine," he said, avoiding my eyes. He picked up the tube which apparently had some heft to it. "Here's the sword."
I took the bag but hesitated with the sword. "I don't need that, that's ok, thanks though."
He nodded and put the sword back in the corner. He motioned for the door and we walked out. He shook my hand at the ground floor.
"Please return the report tomorrow. We can talk then if you want, sir," he said.
I picked up a six-pack before I went to a local hotel. I open the file on the desk and started reading.
It was a weird feeling, reading about how my brother died in such clinical terms. The coroner concluded suicide because of the way the body had landed. He concluded that it was consistent with pushing oneself off a ledge from approx 8 stories. His skull had cracked on the pavement and he had died almost instantly. The coroner noted that it was unusual for the body to land backside down in such a suicide, but postulated that the victim had pushed off harder on one side causing the twist in the air. His appendages had spread upon impact, not being crushed under his body.
I distanced myself as much as possible while reading the coroner's report. It wasn't my brother, it was some nameless victim I was reading about in some criminal justice text book. That and the beer helped me get through it.
Douglas' report was more along the lines of an after-action police report. That had been tracking down a group of Satanic worshipers in London and chased them into a construction site in Canary Wharf. They wanted to ask this group some questions about two incidents: one involved the disappearance of several young girls in the north about a year ago, and the other involved the discovery of mutilated dog remains in some cemeteries outside of London. When Douglas and my brother had approached the residence, some of the worshipers had gone out the rear window while another shot at the Society members.
The chase had been quick. Douglas had been grazed by the shot before my brother disarmed the suspect and was bit dizzy. My brother got the building site first and followed the worshipers into the unfinished building.
Douglas couldn't be sure about what happened while my brother was out of site. He arrived at the site about 30 seconds after my brother, heard screaming, and then another gun shot. He ran up into the building in time to see my brother falling.
No one else was around.
He couldn't remember if my
I took the bag but hesitated with the sword. "I don't need that, that's ok, thanks though."
He nodded and put the sword back in the corner. He motioned for the door and we walked out. He shook my hand at the ground floor.
"Please return the report tomorrow. We can talk then if you want, sir," he said.
I picked up a six-pack before I went to a local hotel. I open the file on the desk and started reading.
It was a weird feeling, reading about how my brother died in such clinical terms. The coroner concluded suicide because of the way the body had landed. He concluded that it was consistent with pushing oneself off a ledge from approx 8 stories. His skull had cracked on the pavement and he had died almost instantly. The coroner noted that it was unusual for the body to land backside down in such a suicide, but postulated that the victim had pushed off harder on one side causing the twist in the air. His appendages had spread upon impact, not being crushed under his body.
I distanced myself as much as possible while reading the coroner's report. It wasn't my brother, it was some nameless victim I was reading about in some criminal justice text book. That and the beer helped me get through it.
Douglas' report was more along the lines of an after-action police report. That had been tracking down a group of Satanic worshipers in London and chased them into a construction site in Canary Wharf. They wanted to ask this group some questions about two incidents: one involved the disappearance of several young girls in the north about a year ago, and the other involved the discovery of mutilated dog remains in some cemeteries outside of London. When Douglas and my brother had approached the residence, some of the worshipers had gone out the rear window while another shot at the Society members.
The chase had been quick. Douglas had been grazed by the shot before my brother disarmed the suspect and was bit dizzy. My brother got the building site first and followed the worshipers into the unfinished building.
Douglas couldn't be sure about what happened while my brother was out of site. He arrived at the site about 30 seconds after my brother, heard screaming, and then another gun shot. He ran up into the building in time to see my brother falling.
No one else was around.
He couldn't remember if my
