“I swear on the memory of my wife, I saw exactly what I’ve told you I saw. I’ve spent most of my life working with the departed, and I’m not fanciful, let alone prone to hallucinations. I didn’t imagine this. I’ve
never
imagined something like this. It really happened, just as I’ve described.”
“Okay.” Lucky nodded, accepting this. He trusted Nathan and, unlike his friend, he’d actually had a number of mystical encounters, so the story didn’t sound as crazy to him as one might suppose. “So what do we think, Doc?”
“Reanimation doesn’t seem to have damaged the corpse,” Max said pensively. “Sometimes there can be . . . oh, a sort of internal combustion as mystical forces devour the dead organism. It can leave behind cooked flesh, charred remains, corpses that appear to have been partially cremated, melted organs—”
“But not in this case,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear the whole list.
“No,” Max agreed. “Nor does there appear to be any liquidation of the physical form.”
“Liquidation?” John repeated.
“Let’s not digress,” I said, eager to avoid more revolting imagery.
“Esther is right. Let’s proceed with what’s here, rather than discussing what is not,” said Max. “Will someone assist me in turning him over?”
I took Nelli’s leash from Lucky and stepped back as he and John dealt with Mr. Capuzzo. They did it efficiently and without hesitation, both being accustomed, in their separate ways, to handling dead bodies.
Now that the deceased was lying on his back . . . he still just looked like an elderly man who’d been well prepared for his upcoming wake.
Looking more alert now, Nelli rose to her feet and approached the corpse. Lucky let go of her leash as she lowered her head and began sniffing Mr. Capuzzo with focused interest.
“Nelli is examining the body for traces of mystical influence,” Max explained.
I saw a somewhat dubious glance pass between the Chens.
After about a minute of sniffing, Nelli seemed to lose interest—and then she whined a little and licked Mr. Capuzzo’s ear.
“Oh, Nelli,
don’t,
” I blurted. “No!”
She paused, looked at me, then gave the ear another slurp with her long pink tongue. Revolted, I picked up her leash and tugged on it, urging her to leave the body and come to me. After she did, I told her to lie down. Nelli remained standing.
“Did she learn anything, Doc?” Lucky asked.
“Apparently not.” Nelli was looking around the room now, cheerful and relaxed. “Her reaction indicates she can detect no lingering traces of whatever animated this body.”
“Well . . . good,” said John.
“Now what?” asked Nathan.
After a moment of gazing down at the dead man, Max got down on his knees beside the corpse. “I wonder if . . .”
I looked away when he prized open one of Capuzzo’s eyes and leaned close to peer into it.
“Do you need a penlight?” John asked.
“Ah, yes. That would be most useful.”
John found one and handed it to him. Lucky and the Chens watched attentively while Max spent the next few minutes examining the corpse by looking into various orifices and tapping on various bones.
I mostly tried to look elsewhere.
When it came to examining a corpse, I was prepared to lend moral support but not to lend a hand. Protecting New York from Evil is Max’s job, so he has to be able to stomach tasks like the one he was engaged in now. But for me, this kind of thing is just . . . let’s call it volunteer work.
I don’t help Max confront Evil because I’m nobler than the average person (though I’m flattered that Max thinks I am). I mostly do it because it’s a matter of common sense and self-preservation to stand up and
do
something when someone’s trying to summon a demon that will eat half of Manhattan (where I live and work), or kill a bunch of New Yorkers (of whom I happen to be one) to appease dark forces, or commit human sacrifice with innocent bystanders
never
imagined something like this. It really happened, just as I’ve described.”
“Okay.” Lucky nodded, accepting this. He trusted Nathan and, unlike his friend, he’d actually had a number of mystical encounters, so the story didn’t sound as crazy to him as one might suppose. “So what do we think, Doc?”
“Reanimation doesn’t seem to have damaged the corpse,” Max said pensively. “Sometimes there can be . . . oh, a sort of internal combustion as mystical forces devour the dead organism. It can leave behind cooked flesh, charred remains, corpses that appear to have been partially cremated, melted organs—”
“But not in this case,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear the whole list.
“No,” Max agreed. “Nor does there appear to be any liquidation of the physical form.”
“Liquidation?” John repeated.
“Let’s not digress,” I said, eager to avoid more revolting imagery.
“Esther is right. Let’s proceed with what’s here, rather than discussing what is not,” said Max. “Will someone assist me in turning him over?”
I took Nelli’s leash from Lucky and stepped back as he and John dealt with Mr. Capuzzo. They did it efficiently and without hesitation, both being accustomed, in their separate ways, to handling dead bodies.
Now that the deceased was lying on his back . . . he still just looked like an elderly man who’d been well prepared for his upcoming wake.
Looking more alert now, Nelli rose to her feet and approached the corpse. Lucky let go of her leash as she lowered her head and began sniffing Mr. Capuzzo with focused interest.
“Nelli is examining the body for traces of mystical influence,” Max explained.
I saw a somewhat dubious glance pass between the Chens.
After about a minute of sniffing, Nelli seemed to lose interest—and then she whined a little and licked Mr. Capuzzo’s ear.
“Oh, Nelli,
don’t,
” I blurted. “No!”
She paused, looked at me, then gave the ear another slurp with her long pink tongue. Revolted, I picked up her leash and tugged on it, urging her to leave the body and come to me. After she did, I told her to lie down. Nelli remained standing.
“Did she learn anything, Doc?” Lucky asked.
“Apparently not.” Nelli was looking around the room now, cheerful and relaxed. “Her reaction indicates she can detect no lingering traces of whatever animated this body.”
“Well . . . good,” said John.
“Now what?” asked Nathan.
After a moment of gazing down at the dead man, Max got down on his knees beside the corpse. “I wonder if . . .”
I looked away when he prized open one of Capuzzo’s eyes and leaned close to peer into it.
“Do you need a penlight?” John asked.
“Ah, yes. That would be most useful.”
John found one and handed it to him. Lucky and the Chens watched attentively while Max spent the next few minutes examining the corpse by looking into various orifices and tapping on various bones.
I mostly tried to look elsewhere.
When it came to examining a corpse, I was prepared to lend moral support but not to lend a hand. Protecting New York from Evil is Max’s job, so he has to be able to stomach tasks like the one he was engaged in now. But for me, this kind of thing is just . . . let’s call it volunteer work.
I don’t help Max confront Evil because I’m nobler than the average person (though I’m flattered that Max thinks I am). I mostly do it because it’s a matter of common sense and self-preservation to stand up and
do
something when someone’s trying to summon a demon that will eat half of Manhattan (where I live and work), or kill a bunch of New Yorkers (of whom I happen to be one) to appease dark forces, or commit human sacrifice with innocent bystanders
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