Rocko felt a stab of pain from his knuckles after hitting up against Beau’s cheekbone. The punch had been a hefty one and right on target yet Beau’s facial expression didn’t change. It was as if he’d not felt the blow.
Rocko was shocked by the seeming ineffectiveness of what heretofore had been his best weapon. People never expected a powerful left hook to be the first contact in a fight. It had always worked for Rocko, and more often than not, finished the fight. But with Beau it was different. The only change in Beau’s appearance after the punch was that his pupils dilated. Rocko even thought they began to glow.
The other problem Rocko was experiencing was lack of oxygen. His face got redder and his eyes began to bulge. He tried to twist out of Beau’s grasp but couldn’t. It was as if he were being held by a pair of iron tongs.
“Excuse me,” Beau said calmly. “I think you owe my dog an apology.”
Rocko grabbed Beau’s arm with both hands but still couldn’t break Beau’s hold around his neck. All Rocko could do was gurgle.
“I can’t hear you,” Beau said.
Pitt, who moments before had been worried about Beau, was now concerned about Rocko. The man’s face was turning blue.
“He can’t breathe,” Pitt offered.
“You’re right,” Beau said. He let go of Rocko’s neck and grabbed a handful of hair instead. Exerting an upward force, he was able to bring Rocko up onto his tiptoes. Rocko was still clutching Beau’s arm with both hands but was unable to free himself.
“I’m waiting for the apology,” Beau said. He increased the tension on Rocko’s hair.
“I’m sorry about your dog,” Rocko managed.
“Don’t tell me,” Beau said calmly. “Tell the dog.”
Pitt was speechless. For a second it almost appeared as if Beau had lifted Rocko off his feet.
“I’m sorry, dog,” Rocko squeaked.
“His name is King,” Beau said.
“I’m sorry, King,” Rocko echoed.
Beau released his hold. Rocko’s hands shot to the top of his head. His scalp was burning. With a look that was a combination of anger, pain, and humiliation, Rocko slunk away to join his shocked teammates.
Beau brushed off his hands. “Ugh,” he said. “I wonder what kind of goop he uses in his hair.”
Pitt and Tony were as shocked as Rocko’s teammates and were staring at Beau with their mouths hanging open. Beau noticed their expressions after reaching down for the end of King’s leash.
“What is it with you guys?” Beau asked.
“How did you do that?” Pitt asked.
“What are you talking about?” Beau asked.
“How were you able to handle Rocko so easily?” Pitt asked.
Beau tapped the side of his head. “With intelligence,” he said. “Poor Rocko uses only brawn. Brawn can be useful but its power pales compared to intelligence. It’s why humans dominate this planet. In terms of natural selection, there’s nothing that comes close.”
All of a sudden Beau looked off across the grass toward the library. “Uh oh,” he said. “Looks like I’m going to have to leave you guys.”
Pitt followed his line of sight. About a hundred yards off and coming in their direction was another group of businessmen types. This time there were six: four men and two women. All were carrying briefcases.
Beau turned back to his teammates. “Great game, guys,” he said. He stuck up his hand and high-fived with both. Then he turned to Pitt. “We’ll have to have that conversation you suggested another time.”
Responding to a tug, King got reluctantly to his feet and followed his master out across the grass to the impromptu conference.
Pitt looked at Tony. Tony shrugged. “I never knew Beau was so strong,” he said.
“How the hell can a body disappear?” Jesse asked Dr. Curtis Lapree. “I mean, has it ever happened before?” Jesse and Vince had ridden over to the morgue and were standing on either side of the empty refrigeration compartment where Charlie Arnold’s body had been.
“Unfortunately it has happened before,” Dr. Lapree admitted. “Not often, thank God, but it has happened. The last time was a little over a year ago. It was the body of a young woman, a suicide case.”
“Was the body ever recovered?” Jesse asked.
“No,” Dr. Lapree said.
“Was it reported to us?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t know, to be truthful,” Dr. Lapree said. “It was handled by the commissioner of health, who dealt directly with the commissioner of the police. It was an embarrassment all around and hence was kept as quiet as possible.”
“What have you done on this case?” Jesse asked.
“The same thing,” Dr. Lapree said. “I’ve turned it over to the head medical examiner, who’s turned it over to the commissioner of health. Before you do anything you’d better check with your bosses. I probably shouldn’t have even told you.”
“I understand,” Jesse said. “And I’ll respect your confidence. But have you any suspicions of why someone would steal the body?”
“As a forensic pathologist I know more than most people that the world is full of weird people,” Dr. Lapree said. “There are people out there who like dead bodies.”
“You think that was the motivation in this instance?” Jesse asked.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Dr. Lapree admitted.
“We’re concerned that the disappearance of the body adds weight to the idea that the man’s death was a homicide,” Jesse said.
“Like the perpetrator didn’t want to leave a trail,” Vince added.
“I understand,” Dr. Lapree said. “But the problem with that line of thinking is that I’d already done the autopsy.”
“Yeah, but you were coming back for more tissue,” Jesse said.
“True,” Dr. Lapree said. “I’d failed to take a sample of bone marrow. But that was just to add more weight to my acute radiation theory.”
“If the reason the body was taken was to keep you from getting this final sample, then it sounds as if it were an inside job,” Jesse said.
“We are aware of that,” Dr. Lapree said. “We’re in the process of reviewing everyone who had access to the body.”
Jesse sighed. “What a case,” he moaned. “The idea of retiring is sounding better and better.”
“You’ll let us know if you learn anything,” Vince said.
“Absolutely,” Dr. Lapree said.
Jonathan closed and locked his gym locker. For that semester he’d pulled gym as the last period of the day, and he hated it. He much preferred to have gym sometime in the middle of the day as an oasis between academic subjects.
Leaving the gym wing by the side door he started out across the quad. In the distance he could see a group of kids grouped around the flagpole. As he approached he could hear them cheering. When he got to the base of the flagpole he saw what was going on. A ninth grader, who Jonathan vaguely knew, was in the process of shinnying to the top. His name was Jason Holbrook. Jonathan knew him because he’d played on the freshman basketball team.
“What’s happening?” Jonathan asked one of his classmates who was standing off to the side. His name was Jeff.
“Ricky Javetz and crowd have found some new ninth-grader to harass,” Jeff said. “The kid’s got to touch the eagle on top or he’s not going to be allowed in the gang.”
Jonathan shielded his eyes from the bright afternoon sun. “That pole’s damn high,” he said. “Must be fifty, sixty feet or more.”
“And it’s pretty skinny at the top,” Jeff said. “I’m glad I’m not up there.”
Jonathan looked around. He was surprised that no teachers had materialized to put a stop to this ridiculous situation. Just then he saw Cassy Winthrope emerge from the north wing. Jonathan elbowed Jeff. “Here comes that sexy student teacher.”