The
 van stuck out of the wall of Elephant Blues as if it had been thrown 
there, the skid marks of the tyres showing where it had veered before 
jumping the curb.  One door on the back was missing — they still hadn’t 
found it — and the other hung loose on a single hinge, its handle 
missing.  The laminated glass of its single window lay in a 
spider-webbed sheet on the pavement, a hole torn through the middle.
A
 hand sat beside it, the pool of blood being diluted in the rain.  It 
was a left hand, but no wedding ring — strong fingers, definitely a 
man’s.  It lay palm up, fingers curled like a dead insect.  The 
fingernails were carefully trimmed and surprisingly clean, as if the guy
 had managed a manicure just before having it torn off.  At least — it 
looked torn; not cut, not sawn, but torn.  The bones of the arm stuck 
out from the stump, the stark white ends free of other tissue.  Big 
floodlights kicked back the night, the fingers of the hand stretching 
tall shadows along the sidewalk.  They hadn’t found the rest of the body
 — not out here.
It might be in the pile inside.
“Think he punched through the glass?  Maybe got out?  Lost his hand that way?”  Elliot chewed on the end of his pen.
“Nah.” 
 Carlisle shuffled her feet through the puddles on the wet sidewalk, 
trying to get the bottom of her soles clean.  She was getting rained on,
 and her pants were starting to stick to her.  Well, more than they 
already were — Carlisle glanced at her red-stained knee and clamped down
 on the shudder.  She should have kept her overcoat on, but inside the 
heat had made her want to retch, the memory of the slaughterhouse reek 
still with her.  Carlisle tried to loosen her pants, but they were 
plastered on — God damn. “Knuckles are fine, and that’s safety glass.  
No cuts on the wrist, not that I can see.  Almost looks chewed.  We’ve 
got to find the arm…  Jesus, Vince.  There’s so many people in there.”  
Rain was running down the back of her collar.  “And they’re all dead.  
How’re we getting on with a witness check?”
“No
 one saw shit.  I swear the only way we’d have less witnesses is if this
 was a Foundation for the Blind annual meet.  Connolly and Malloney are 
in there too.  Somewhere.  They were good guys.  Fuck’s sake.”  Elliot 
offered his umbrella to Carlisle.  “You’re going to die of hypothermia. 
 Take the umbrella.”
It
 was pink, with Hello Kitty motifs in the fabric, a cheap white handle 
at the bottom.  Carlisle snorted.  “Where’d you get that thing?”
Elliot
 tilted it, looking at it as if for the first time.  “You know, I really
 can’t remember.  It might have been the evidence locker.”  He 
shrugged.  “I’m not buying an umbrella.  Too damn windy around here.  
I’ll call their families.”
“Management
 thinking, buddy.  Keep it, it’s more your colour.  Leave the calls to 
me.  I knew Connolly, a little.”  Carlisle looked inside the van, taking
 in the straps tethered to one side.  There was some kind of harness, 
big enough for a man, but it was hard to tell with it all shredded like 
that.  “I’d bet you your next night shift that those straps are nylon.” 
 She reached into a pocket, rescuing a stick of gum.  Chewing, she 
stepped up into the van, wiping her wet blonde — and just a little grey,
 right? — hair away from her face.  She used the end of a pen to poke 
through the remains of the harness.  Definitely torn — the frayed ends 
of the nylon hanging down from the steel wall, which had been pulled in 
slightly with whatever force had torn the straps.  A bench seat was 
opposite the harness.
She
 took in the bullet holes on the wall with the harness.  She’d noticed 
them before, but just how many hadn’t sunk in.  Lots of them — a quick 
eyeball said twenty or thirty rounds had been unloaded in here.  Someone
 on the bench seat had fired into the opposite wall, probably into 
whoever was in that harness.  Blood was smeared down the steel wall, 
with a small puddle on the ground.  Not a lot — not enough for a guy 
with a bunch of shells in him.  Casings lay on the floor of the van, the
 bright of the brass distinct against the carpet.  Two machine pistols 
shared space with them.  No damn bodies though.
They were all inside.
“You
 need…  Just come here.”  The tone of Elliot’s voice brought her out of 
the van in a rush, almost turning her ankle in the rain.  She just 
missed — shit — the severed hand, nearly stumbling head first into the 
street.  Elliot was looking up — above the van, the blood running down 
its white paint stark even at night.  Carlisle followed his gaze to 
above the overhang of the Elephant Blues.  A bronze elephant about the 
size of a small car sat on top, trunk proudly raised to the sky, one 
foot lifted.  Elliot was staring at the elephant.
A body had been impaled on the trunk, easy to miss in the darkness.  No head.  Carlisle recovered first.  “Different guy.”
“What?”  Elliot was a heartbeat behind, still shaken.
“Body’s
 still got both hands.  Just no head.  Closest thing to a full corpse 
I’ve seen all night.”  The ragged ends of tissue, tendons, and the spine
 stuck out from the torso of the corpse.  Blood was being washed down 
from the body onto the awning, onto the van, and into the street.  “I 
hope Forensics did their thing out here.  Our evidence is being rinsed 
away.”
Elliot
 shrugged, just a little.  “They got worse problems.  Not one of them is
 going to see their wife for a week, the amount of reassembly needed in 
there.”
“Probably
 won’t see lunch for a week, either.”  No way you could have pastrami on
 rye after spending time in the Blues this evening.  Nodding to herself,
 Carlisle walked over to the squad car.  It had mounted the curb, nosing
 up behind the van, but back ten or fifteen feet.  Both doors were still
 open, lights on, but no siren.  It wasn’t that the car had done the 
chase running silent; the siren was missing, the ends of wires sticking 
out next to where it had been mounted.  The trunk was open, the shotgun 
missing — the officers had probably left the car in a hurry, but the 
lack of bullet holes in the car suggested it hadn’t been under fire.  
The patrol unit had made the call in for support a half hour ago; it’d 
been Connolly on the radio, panic in his voice.  A car chase in the 
centre of the city, with shots fired, real gangster stuff.  No idea on 
number of people involved, no idea who was shooting, no idea why.  Just 
shots fired — in pursuit — and then silence.  They’d tracked the car by 
the GPS in it, finding it here at Elephant Blues.  The engine was still 
running.
It
 made no sense.  A half hour was a long time.  Long enough for two good 
cops to die.  Not long enough for their bodies to be cold.  If they 
could confirm which bodies — which parts — were theirs.
The
 first evidence that Connolly and Malloney had made an armed response 
came at the entrance to the bar.  Two spent casings were on the ground 
alongside broken glass and wood splinters.  The officers had gone in for
 a lethal response.  They’d gone into the bar, to be lost in the chaos 
of whatever had gone down in the Elephant Blues.
Carlisle
 looked over at Elliot, who was still looking up at the body on the 
elephant.  “Look, stop fucking around over there.  Have you found the 
CCTV system?”
“I found where it was.  You know the bar?”
“Sure.  I stepped over twenty smashed bottles of spirits.  My socks smell of Midori.”
“That’s
 not what your socks smell of.  But — look.  You know it’s crazy in 
there, right?  Tables, chairs thrown around.  Looks like some kind of 
Chuck Norris fight remake.”
“Silent Rage.”  Carlisle swallowed as something hysterical tried to bubble through.  She hadn’t seen that movie in years.
“What?”
“Silent
 Rage.  That’s the movie with the bar fight.  Dan — I mean Norris — was 
in the bar…”  Carlisle trailed off.  “Whatever.  What about it?”
“Right.” 
 Elliot gestured into the bar.  “One of the tables was thrown right 
through the bar.  Sort of unlucky.  It went through the DVR.”
“You’re shitting me.  Sort of unlucky?  Through it?  A thousand places the table could have gone —”
“Be fair, sister.  The tables did go a thousand places.  One of them was through the DVR.”
“You’re
 telling me we’ve got the bloodbath of the century in there, like 
someone’s syphoning the local abattoir through the sprinkler system, and
 we’ve got no footage?”
Elliot looked at his feet.  “Yeah.”
“Fuck.” 
 Carlisle remembered her first steps down into the Blues that evening, 
seeing the tables knocked over, chairs thrown around.  Blood, bits of 
tissue — there, someone’s blood-drenched scarf — were everywhere inside 
the bar.  The shelf that held spirits was shattered, the remains of 
Midori and Galliano and fifty other types of bottled joy mingling with 
the sea of blood on the ground.  Carlisle’s non-skid shoe covers had 
slipped anyway, and she’d fallen heavily on one knee in the gore.  The 
hand she’d thrown out to steady herself had come back sticky with blood,
 the latex covering red and tacky.  It was the first time she’d thrown 
up at crime scene in years.
She
 shook herself out of the memory.  So her expensive suit would need 
dry-cleaning; that was just part of the job.  “We might need to wait on 
Forensics then.”
Elliot
 nodded, pulling his jacket tighter over the belly middle age and too 
much time behind a desk had given him.  “Hell of a night.”
“Yeah.”  Carlisle absently wiped water off her face.  “Hell of a night.”
Valentine’s
 an ordinary guy with ordinary problems. His boss is an asshole. He’s an
 alcoholic. And he’s getting that middle age spread just a bit too 
early. One night — the one night he can’t remember — changes everything.
 What happened at the popular downtown bar, The Elephant Blues? Why is 
Biomne, the largest pharmaceutical company in the world, so interested 
in him — and the virus he carries? How is he getting stronger, faster, 
and more fit? And what’s the connection between Valentine and the 
criminally insane Russian, Volk?
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre – Action, Thriller, Urban Fantasy
Rating – R16
More details about the author
Website http://www.rage.net.nz
 
 
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