#ectomortician

He pulled a four-year-old phone out of his pocket and answered curtly. “Chief, I'm afraid you caught me at a most inopportune time. Please be quick.” He tapped his foot impatiently. “Okay, stop. No, in all seriousness just stop.” If he had eyebrows then, they would be furrowed in indignant frustration. He was holding out the palm of his hand as if the person on the other end could see him. “Chief, it's clearly natural causes. Yes. No, absolutely not. I have no reason to go there. I am telling you that I have absolutely no reason to rush across town for this business when the cause is self evident. Just get him processed, I really don't-” His teeth locked together and shook. “Very well,” he sighed, “but if I turn out to be right, and he just had stroke then I fully expect you to take my word for it from thence on. Yes, good, bye.” He clapped the clamshell phone shut and exhaled deeply. “Were they calling you about a murder investigation?” I blurted it out without even thinking. He still gave me kind of a Holmes vibe I guess. “No, it was a murder investigation.” he made air quotes around the word 'murder' “There is no case but the police cannot for the life of them figure it out for themselves. At any rate he reanimated, and now instead of taking care of of him they're calling me in to sort things out in person even though I can do it over the phone just dandy.” “So, let me guess, you're a consulting detective?” “Of course not. That job doesn't exist outside of poorly written crime novels. I'm actually a bit surprised that someone as bright as you would believe in such nonsense. I'm an ectomortician.” “A what?” “It would be quicker to show you then explain.” He said, already walking out the door. “Come along then, there is little time to be wasted!”