THIS WHOLE SHIT STARTED THREE MONTHS AGO. An early Wednesday morning phonecall had me jump out of the bed, dress up without showering, and driving my superbly restored yellow 1988 Lancia Delta HF Integrale to the Western Railway Station while sipping a cold latte. The sergeant who called me was awfully apologetic, but couldn't or wasn't authorised to give me any feasible information on what I should expect.
The usually jammed streets were still empty, and made it there in ten minutes. My colleagues were discreet. No flashing police cars, no road blocks. I started to feel that this is going to be some routine day. The railway station is shelter for dozens maybe hundreds of homeless, drug addicts, and cheap prostitution is blooming in the dark corners of the magnificent edifice which was built by Gustave Eiffel's company more than a hundred years ago.
I could only see that something happened inside as I parked the car on the Northwestern side of the station. Two police cars, an ambulance and the forensics lab car were parked close to the side entrance. I noticed a couple of patrolmen trying to keep away a crowd of excited people. I race near them towards the inside.
Then I was there at the core area, there was a fifteen by fifteen meters square secured with the white blue striped police tape. Quite a big one for a presumeably - well I was presuming - single victim. One of the scene technicians collecting something inside the area looked up and waved me towards the covered body that lay between the rails, I lifted the tape and stepped inside. As I reached near the body covered with a black plastic pall he grabbed two corners and folded them back.
Next thing I know I am outside the secured area throwing up my only breakfast, the coffee. Stooping and retching painfully. I felt as if a huge nail was hammered into the back of my head. I fell down on my knees. I could see through the heavy tears in my eyes that the coroner is running towards me. Tries to pull me up. I hear him saying something. Shit, shit, shit. I really couldn't restrain myself. The retching just wouldn't stop. "A coke, a coke" I whispered him. I started to breathe slowly and deeply. Breathe in, keep it in, blow it out, wait... I was focused on this pattern for a couple of minutes, my heart rate started to let up. This fucked up panic attack I just experienced started to die down. Fuck, and all this in front of everybody else on the site. The coroner arrived back with my coke.
I had to force myself back into the encircled hell surrounding the body. "Thanks for not destroying any evidence inspector" said the technician when I stepped back inside. "I want to take a look at the victim" I told him. He was looking at me questioningly. I think he was afraid I'll start my little performance again. But I just pointed towards the covered body with my chin. He walked there and lifted the cover again.
Never before have I seen such a heavily disemboweled body. The uncovered remains, that not a long ago apparently were a beautiful woman, looked like something that exploded from the inside. Laid on the back the head seemed untouched, peaceful, the blond hair neatly arranged in sort of aureole. Arms spread wide with the flat of the hand looking upward. Legs straight, the right foot above the left, as if she were on a cross. I closed my eyes for a second. Took out my iPhone and started to take pictures. The torso was the cause of my stomach going haywire. It was cut open. But not simply cut open. The manubrium and sternum - the two bones keeping the chest together - were removed and the ribs were unfolded. Like wretched vestigial wings. And as far as I could observe the heart was removed from the chest.
"Blood eagle" came from behind me. Turned back and realized that the technician was still behind me. "What?" I mumbled and put my phone back in my pocket. "It looks like sort of a blood eagle," he continued "this kind of mutilating was used as an execution method by the ancestors of the Scandinavians." I couldn't give a fuck where he's got this information. I was staring at the body and all I could think of was a rueful little angel. A bloody angel. Inexplicably I started to cry.
To be continued...
Read the Intermezzo here!
The usually jammed streets were still empty, and made it there in ten minutes. My colleagues were discreet. No flashing police cars, no road blocks. I started to feel that this is going to be some routine day. The railway station is shelter for dozens maybe hundreds of homeless, drug addicts, and cheap prostitution is blooming in the dark corners of the magnificent edifice which was built by Gustave Eiffel's company more than a hundred years ago.
I could only see that something happened inside as I parked the car on the Northwestern side of the station. Two police cars, an ambulance and the forensics lab car were parked close to the side entrance. I noticed a couple of patrolmen trying to keep away a crowd of excited people. I race near them towards the inside.
Then I was there at the core area, there was a fifteen by fifteen meters square secured with the white blue striped police tape. Quite a big one for a presumeably - well I was presuming - single victim. One of the scene technicians collecting something inside the area looked up and waved me towards the covered body that lay between the rails, I lifted the tape and stepped inside. As I reached near the body covered with a black plastic pall he grabbed two corners and folded them back.
Next thing I know I am outside the secured area throwing up my only breakfast, the coffee. Stooping and retching painfully. I felt as if a huge nail was hammered into the back of my head. I fell down on my knees. I could see through the heavy tears in my eyes that the coroner is running towards me. Tries to pull me up. I hear him saying something. Shit, shit, shit. I really couldn't restrain myself. The retching just wouldn't stop. "A coke, a coke" I whispered him. I started to breathe slowly and deeply. Breathe in, keep it in, blow it out, wait... I was focused on this pattern for a couple of minutes, my heart rate started to let up. This fucked up panic attack I just experienced started to die down. Fuck, and all this in front of everybody else on the site. The coroner arrived back with my coke.
I had to force myself back into the encircled hell surrounding the body. "Thanks for not destroying any evidence inspector" said the technician when I stepped back inside. "I want to take a look at the victim" I told him. He was looking at me questioningly. I think he was afraid I'll start my little performance again. But I just pointed towards the covered body with my chin. He walked there and lifted the cover again.
Never before have I seen such a heavily disemboweled body. The uncovered remains, that not a long ago apparently were a beautiful woman, looked like something that exploded from the inside. Laid on the back the head seemed untouched, peaceful, the blond hair neatly arranged in sort of aureole. Arms spread wide with the flat of the hand looking upward. Legs straight, the right foot above the left, as if she were on a cross. I closed my eyes for a second. Took out my iPhone and started to take pictures. The torso was the cause of my stomach going haywire. It was cut open. But not simply cut open. The manubrium and sternum - the two bones keeping the chest together - were removed and the ribs were unfolded. Like wretched vestigial wings. And as far as I could observe the heart was removed from the chest.
"Blood eagle" came from behind me. Turned back and realized that the technician was still behind me. "What?" I mumbled and put my phone back in my pocket. "It looks like sort of a blood eagle," he continued "this kind of mutilating was used as an execution method by the ancestors of the Scandinavians." I couldn't give a fuck where he's got this information. I was staring at the body and all I could think of was a rueful little angel. A bloody angel. Inexplicably I started to cry.
To be continued...
Read the Intermezzo here!
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