By Tipp Hex
Alongside him, the fresh-faced rookie cop edged his polished toe-cap away from the blood oozing out the body at their feet. Yes, he was once like that. The detective felt every one of his thirty years in the force bunch into a knot inside his throat, his glass-eye twitching in its socket as he took in the scene.
The young cop's pale expression suggested his breakfast might soon be part of the crime scene he was here to guard. Uniform pressed and smart, all crisp lines and polished badge, his mom would be proud. That's right, kid, concentrate on keeping cap and tie straight and the food inside your stomach. Anything but the gore creeping closer to your toes.
A blonde was backed up in the shadows against the far wall, failing in her efforts to be inconspicuous. Six inch heels, black lycra tights and a red boob-tube made for poor camouflage. Under his unblinking gaze she threw back a challenge, her weapon a glance of pure sexuality. But this was one contest she couldn't win. The look of surprise made him smile as she dropped her head onto the young man's shoulder by her side. In shame or defeat, he wasn't quite sure.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, her protector then took up her challenge, glaring his defiance, pulling her closer into the torn leather of his jacket. The kind of expensive leather that rippled over skin like oil on water. One ripped lapel hung down over a shirt gashed to the waist and spattered with blood. A gold necklace and cross, diamond earnings and rolex watch told its story. As did the face; soft as the jawline was strong with eyes glistening at the edge of tears, the anger petulant.
It was the middle-aged man that held his attention. Face and clothes decorated in spattered crimson, his weight supported by an over-stuffed settee, cheap jacket heaving with each hard-fought breath as it failed to cover the deep folds of flesh. The killers thick eyebrows were raised in an amused expression at odds with the pig-like eyes glinting from within their cloaking folds of skin.
Despite his years of experience, the detective reacted too late.
But the fat man had already thrust his gun deep into the folds of skin of his neck. An instant later the rookie cop lost his breakfast, and his innocence.