Gran-Occidentia
Establishing Nation
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2020
- Messages
- 274
- Capital
- Ville-Affranchie
- Nick
- Boro
Ducotel lit his twentieth cigarette of the day, the smell did little to hide the stench in the room as he entered. Strictly speaking he was not in the business of investigating homicides, and while he had once been a member of the Force Publique he had left those days far behind him. No he mused if the corpse in question had just been a private citizen...or at least as private as a citizen could be in Bezonvaux he would still be in bed, alas the corpse was or had been someone important.
" Tell me, comrade-detective how long has the minister been" he left the sentence hanging as he gestured at the scene, hanging he thought was maybe not the right word as he looked at the naked man swinging from the branches of the tree. " And perhaps can we begin taking him down?" All around him guardsmen hurried to and fro although none went about with much enthusiasm, Ducotel removed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on, brought on by the smell, and in small part because the local Force Publiqe detachment had failed to bring a ladder and even now several guardsmen were attempting to climb the damn tree while others went about trying to find one. Ducotel recalled seeing a little cafe not ten minutes away, no doubt there to cater to the workers from the nearby factories.
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Ducotel had nearly finished his twenty fifth cigarette, a fairly passable coffee and nigh inedible croissant, when a spotty guardsman no doubt fresh from the academy burst in " Comrade-Agent the body has been removed and th..the..the captaine wants to know if you will be attending the autopsy". Ducotel nodded towards the sour faced woman at the counter and walked out, he didn't bother paying. Of course he wouldn't usually bother with the usual autopsy nonsense but when a minister dies all the forms had to be filled out.
Minister of Agriculture, Georges Deat, well former minister had disappeared a week ago not in itself unusual the man was renowned philander and it was rumoured a requenter of a variety of underground establishments, prone to often disappearing yet to Ducotel's puzzlement he had remained in favour with the Premier. Deat had in life been a man of prodigeous appetite. In death he had swollen considerably. In the confides of the morgue the smell had grown too and Ducotel had to stop himself from wretching, a nearby bucket showed someone hadn't been as strong willed as himself.
The coroner seemed to resent being there nearly as much as himself and the autopsy was a quick affair, death was concluded as asphyxiation brought on by hanging no more than seven days ago, some postmoterm bruising etc etc. Ducotel found his mind wandering as the coroner droned on and the local captaine waffled on about his men wouldn't rest until the culprit found, clearly the notion of suicide was out of the question. His eyes wandered over the corpse, there was something amiss he was sure of it, for one thing it had taken several notionally fit guardsmen to climb the tree yet this fat deviant had managed to tie the rope around himself, likewise there was something else. " Comrade-doctor would you be so kind as to take a closer look at the late minister's mouth". The coroner grumbled then remembered who Ducotel worked for and thought better of it, opening the mouth and prodding at the black sluglike tongue and after a while muttered a quiet "Fuck". The Coroner had pulled out a small mishappend lump of metal. a bullet, small calibre but undeniably a bullet.
Shit. A member of the Committee killed, an a favourite of the Premier too. This could be dangerous, potentially quite profitable in terms of his career maybe a medal or even a popular knighthood. Of course if the investigation failed to yield results or yielded politcally unsuitable results then..well Ducotel ended that train of thought quickly. His phone began buzzing no doubt his superiors who want a full report.
" Tell me, comrade-detective how long has the minister been" he left the sentence hanging as he gestured at the scene, hanging he thought was maybe not the right word as he looked at the naked man swinging from the branches of the tree. " And perhaps can we begin taking him down?" All around him guardsmen hurried to and fro although none went about with much enthusiasm, Ducotel removed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on, brought on by the smell, and in small part because the local Force Publiqe detachment had failed to bring a ladder and even now several guardsmen were attempting to climb the damn tree while others went about trying to find one. Ducotel recalled seeing a little cafe not ten minutes away, no doubt there to cater to the workers from the nearby factories.
+++++
Ducotel had nearly finished his twenty fifth cigarette, a fairly passable coffee and nigh inedible croissant, when a spotty guardsman no doubt fresh from the academy burst in " Comrade-Agent the body has been removed and th..the..the captaine wants to know if you will be attending the autopsy". Ducotel nodded towards the sour faced woman at the counter and walked out, he didn't bother paying. Of course he wouldn't usually bother with the usual autopsy nonsense but when a minister dies all the forms had to be filled out.
Minister of Agriculture, Georges Deat, well former minister had disappeared a week ago not in itself unusual the man was renowned philander and it was rumoured a requenter of a variety of underground establishments, prone to often disappearing yet to Ducotel's puzzlement he had remained in favour with the Premier. Deat had in life been a man of prodigeous appetite. In death he had swollen considerably. In the confides of the morgue the smell had grown too and Ducotel had to stop himself from wretching, a nearby bucket showed someone hadn't been as strong willed as himself.
The coroner seemed to resent being there nearly as much as himself and the autopsy was a quick affair, death was concluded as asphyxiation brought on by hanging no more than seven days ago, some postmoterm bruising etc etc. Ducotel found his mind wandering as the coroner droned on and the local captaine waffled on about his men wouldn't rest until the culprit found, clearly the notion of suicide was out of the question. His eyes wandered over the corpse, there was something amiss he was sure of it, for one thing it had taken several notionally fit guardsmen to climb the tree yet this fat deviant had managed to tie the rope around himself, likewise there was something else. " Comrade-doctor would you be so kind as to take a closer look at the late minister's mouth". The coroner grumbled then remembered who Ducotel worked for and thought better of it, opening the mouth and prodding at the black sluglike tongue and after a while muttered a quiet "Fuck". The Coroner had pulled out a small mishappend lump of metal. a bullet, small calibre but undeniably a bullet.
Shit. A member of the Committee killed, an a favourite of the Premier too. This could be dangerous, potentially quite profitable in terms of his career maybe a medal or even a popular knighthood. Of course if the investigation failed to yield results or yielded politcally unsuitable results then..well Ducotel ended that train of thought quickly. His phone began buzzing no doubt his superiors who want a full report.