When they at last arrived, the overworked doc was waiting for them.

“Nice of you to drop in.”

The DI smiled as he gazed upon the corpse.

“As you can see,” the medic explained. “He has been nailed in the style of a typical Roman crucifixion.”

The DI was puzzled by the lack of blood.

“How long has he been here?”

“Three days I reckon.”

“Surely there should be blood everywhere.”

“That’s what puzzles me,” the doc replied.

“Are the forensic boys finished?”

“He can be removed quite safely.”

“We’ll escort him to the morgue then.”

The thirty-year-old female mortician was quite dishy to look at, even when wearing the obligatory white coat. As she stared at the body, she looked puzzled.

“Something up?” the sergeant asked.

“I’m damn sure he was in my cooler last week. Hold on.”

She examined the souls of his feet and pointed.

“See those numbers?”

“What about them?”

“We put those on every one of them nowadays. I just don’t understand this.”

“Are you saying he was stolen from here?” the DI asked.

“Certainly not. I run a tight ship.”

She walked over to the desk and hauled out her logbook.

“Now let me see...Ah yes...There we are.”

The DI read the destination with some interest.

“Foxley academy of medicine.”

The woman glanced at him.

“It was for tuition purposes you see.”

The DI smiled sweetly.

“At least we know where to start. Thanks.”

The well-respected academy had seen better days of course, and when
the officers entered, they headed straight for the surgical department.

As they walked inside, the doctor looked up.

“Can I help?”

After showing their warrant cards, the DI asked, “We are working on a rather unusual case. Have you eh, lost any bodies lately?”

The good doctor looked surprised by the question.

“I should hope not. Don’t want to give the locals too much of a fright.”

The officers smiled at the apparent joke.

“You see sir,” the sergeant said carefully. “We found one of your bodies nailed up in the wood.”

“In the wood eh? Are you certain it is one of ours?”

“The login number confirms it,” the DI said.

“How strange.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“You don’t seem too worried sir.”

“It’s been a rather long day you see.”

Peters did not like his attitude.

“We need to know how he got there.”

“Oh very well. What number was it?”

DI Holland told him and the surgeon looked in the book.

“He was destined for my department. A Doctor Bryce was due to give a
lesson.”

“Where is Bryce now?” the DI asked.

The doctor glanced at his watch.

“He should be in the tea room.”

They thanked him before making their way there.

“He is simply not interested,” Peters complained.

“Obviously worried about protecting this place,” the DI said.

“Especially after the last time,” Andrew added.

The tearoom was located upon the second floor and when they entered, they noted that only one was present.

“That must be him,” the sergeant said.

“Good morning sir,” the DI said smiling.

“Can I help you?”

“A Doctor Bryce?” Peters asked.

“At your service.”

After sitting at the table the DI asked, “We found one of your
corpses in the wood this morning.”

“Are you sure? We haven’t lost any.”

“We are certain sir. You were due for a lesson apparently.”

“Oh I see. Were you also told that I was home ill?”

“As a matter of fact no,” the sergeant said.

“Had a bit of a chest that day. So I decided not to go in.”

“Who took the class then?” Peters asked.

“No one. It was cancelled of course.”

The DI mulled this over.

“So where was the body?”

The doctor looked annoyed.

“Where they are all kept sir. In the cooler.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” the sergeant complained.

“I’m not satisfied with your answers,” the DI warned.

“Not satisfied? How can I be held responsible for a missing corpse?”

“You can’t,” the sergeant said.

“What are you hiding?” Peters asked.

“Nothing that would interest you.”

That statement pricked the DI’s ears.

“So you are hiding something. Are you aware of the implications?”

“What do you mean by that?”

The DI gave him a cold gaze.

“It is an offence to hide anything that may refer to a police investigation.”

The doctor looked worried.

“Actually there is something. I need assurances though.”

“You have them,” the DI said. “Just tell us.”

“I received a note.”

“Do you have it?” the sergeant asked.

The worried doctor reached into an inside pocket and handed it over. When the DI read it, he handed it to Peters.

“It was pushed under my office door.”

“Arrive for school tomorrow and you will be cut.”

“It’s unsigned.”

“They usually are Doctor Bryce,” the DI said calmly.

Peters had seen through the note at once.

“You know sir that this has all the hallmarks of a student prank.”

“A prank?” Bryce exclaimed.

“Your students make our reports and essays correct?”

“At least three times a day, why?”

“We would like to see those,” the DI chipped in.

“You had better come to my office then.”

The office was really a glorified broom cupboard loaded with stacks
of files. The doctor pulled one down and opened it.

“This file refers to my current class. How will this help?”

The DI smiled and pulled the box file towards him.

“We will simply match the handwriting.”

He opened the clip and handed out stacks of written material. As
they went through them, it was Peters who spotted the culprit.

“This is our man sir.”

The doctor glanced at it.

“That’s Martin Gilepsy.”

“Would you know where he is sir?”

“He has the mornings off sir. You’ll find him in the dormitory. His
number is...”

As the officers made their way over the sergeant said, “At least
sir, we have solved the threatening note.”

The DI smiled.

“I suspect we also know who stole the body and nailed it up.”

“There would have to be at least two,” Peters reminded him.

“Don’t you worry,” the DI said. “We’ll ring the truth out of him.”

The student was a healthy twenty-five year old and was none too pleased when they arrived.

The DI gave him a steely look.

“You are being arrested for threats to cause bodily harm. Not to mention theft. Come along with us.”

Back at the station, the prisoner was escorted to cell 13 and promptly locked in.

“Not going to interrogate him sir?” the sergeant asked.

“Let him stew Andrew. Oh Sergeant Hopkins...”

The desk sergeant came over.

“When it gets dark, keep his light off eh? A bit of psych warfare is required.”

The sergeant smiled.

“As you wish sir.”

DI Holland glanced at the wall clock.

“Gone noon I see. Let’s pop out for lunch eh?”

As darkness rolled down, the clock ticked on. At ten pm precisely, the cell door opened and the startled lad was dragged towards the small interview room.

“We matched your handwriting to that filthy note mate,” the DI said. “You are cooked like a goose.”

“He deserved it.”

“What do you mean by that?” the sergeant asked.

“He was marking me down. That’s why.”

“So that entitles you to threatening notes eh?” the DI asked.

As the suspect remained silent the DI added, “Who helped you to nail the corpse up?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about mate.”

“We have your DNA on the ruddy thing,” the detective said lying through his teeth. “We are going to throw the book at you!”

The suspect panicked.

“It was my mate’s suggestion.”

“Whose he then?” Peters asked.

“Malcom Jeffs if you must know.”

The officers smiled.

“Put him back in the cell sergeant. Then we’ll pick up the accomplice.”

By midnight, the case had been firmly wrapped up and the DI yawned.

“Must be near my bedtime. Would you mind stopping by the museum before dropping me off?”

His sergeant nodded.

At that time of night, the roads were quiet, and the car drew up at the town museum. The DI saw what was written upon the notice board.

Martian exhibit starts tomorrow.

The DI felt a sudden spasm of fear that he tried to articulate.

“I don’t know about you Andrew, but I have a nasty feeling that we will all be dead by this time tomorrow.”

The sergeant smiled.

”I hope not sir. It’s my day off and I promised my wife a day at the sea side.”

The DI glanced at him

”Let’s hope you live long enough to enjoy it.”

They were about to drive off when a vertical whirlpool appeared in the centre of the road. A dark figure walked out and the phenomenon vanished.

The officers climbed out as the figure approached.

”Hello DI Holland, Sergeant Andrew.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“Hello Charly,” the DI said grimly.