An old man in a ditch – Part II

Posted on January 31st, 2009 by Richard Catto 671 views

This is a short work of fiction by Richard Catto.

The Coroner’s office was small and stuffy. He was a big man with a florid look about him, the kind of man who was always sweating and chewing something. I noticed a spittoon in the corner and shuddered. Everything about this place and this man revolted me.

“Are you the next-of-kin of the deceased?” he asked me. He spoke with a Southern twang. “No, sir, I don’t even know his name.” I replied, hoping that this would all soon be over and he would tell me I could go home.

“And you are the anonymous caller who called this in, this morning?” “Yes, I am.” I replied.

“You said he had been ‘robbed’” he paused. “Yes” I interjected. “Are you sure that’s what he said?” “I’m fairly sure”, I said, “it was difficult to make out what he was saying, to be honest.” “I see. Do you mind if we take a DNA sample from you?”

“A DNA sample!” I exclaimed. “Why would you need that?” “It’s just routine, sir.” He produced a cotton swab and opened his cavernous mouth wide, indicating that I should do the same. I complied. Anything to get this over with. He swabbed the inside of my mouth and then screwed it back into its plastic sheath. “Betsy!” he hollered into the next room, “Can you come get this sample and take it to the lab?” Betsy bustled in with matronly efficiency, shot me a brief sympathetic look, and then bustled right out again with my DNA in her possession.

The Coroner, indicated a chair, and said, “Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what all happened this morning?” I recounted the events methodically and he nodded and scratched on a notepad. “Do you know how he died”, I asked. The Coroner shook his head. “Can I go now?” I asked optimistically. Again he shook his head. He poked his head out the door, “Pete, can you get in here?” A police officer entered the room with cuffs in his hand. “Read him his rights”, the coroner said. “What the hell is going on here!” I demanded to know. Officer Pete, spun me around and pinned me to the wall, “Just stay calm, sir” he warned me, and I relaxed in his grip to show him that I posed him no threat. He cuffed me and mirandized me.

As I was being led away, I asked what I was being charged with. “I’m not at liberty to disclose that.” Officer Pete intoned. I was led downstairs and locked up in a spartan cell surrounded on three sides by thick yellow painted bars. Behind me was a yellow painted brick wall. There were three identical cells all in a row. A corridor ran the length of them, with a dirty scuffed melamine floor, that had dark stains on it which was probably dried blood and vomit and god knows what else. I was the only incarceree.

I put my head in my hands and contemplated the pitiful state of my existence. This morning, I had been free, on my way home to have breakfast after a long night shift at the Internet Cafe where I worked three nights a week. I realised I had not eaten. My stomach growled acidicly. I wondered if I would get anything to eat. There was no-one to ask. I was all alone down here and I did not know when I would see anyone again. I wondered if they would just forget about me and I would just wither away and die alone, cold, hungry and miserable in this wretched cell. “I should have just walked on”, I kept telling myself, “Why did I have to get involved in this?”

To be continued

Tags: fiction, Short story, writing
Filed under fiction |

4 Responses to “An old man in a ditch – Part II”

1. Relax Max Says:
   January 31st, 2009 at 17:12

   Ever more interesting. You surprise me. Not because you are a good writer – I already knew that – but for your obvious willingness to risk losing your entire readership for this little foray into the consequences of morality.
   Anyway, I for one want to know how this turns out. There are so many possibilities. (Caution: when Max likes something it is often wise to question the validity of one’s premise; Max is not known for his good taste.)
   I love the style you have chosen to write this in – 1950s pulp detective, I think the style is officially called. Personally, I think you have captured the flavor of Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe character. When he was in the fifth grade.
   I honestly look forward to the next installment. I may even click of a few adverts if it is as good as this one. Especially if you get beaten up in the next installment.
   Just kidding.
   No I’m not.
   Finally, I assure you that the word “incarceree” has not passed unnoticed.

2. Richard Catto Says:
   January 31st, 2009 at 18:42

   @Relax Max: Thanks. The next part is up.

3. fodda Says:
   February 2nd, 2009 at 09:44

   I like the way that when you cn’t think of a suitable word to us, you make one up. “Acidicly”, “Incarceree” etc.

   Hilariously bad.

4. Richard Catto Says:
   February 2nd, 2009 at 10:51

   @fodda: Actually both words are part of the English language. Hence the reason that reading increases one’s vocabulary.

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