Morgue, Guy's Hospital
It was two weeks later when Marco Evans, Levi, and Detective Davies stood in the morgue with confused looks on all their faces.
A John Doe was found in an alley dead without any form of identification.
Naked, fingers cut, teeth removed.
Yet, face completely intact.
With no way to identify the man, through dental records and fingerprint, Detective Davies called for Levi; maybe his ability of 'reading' people, as what Marco claimed would come in handy.
To the stout sandy-haired man, Levi Jackson was more than your ordinary 'psychic' as what most of his colleagues in CID would dub the slicked blond. His perceptiveness and attention to detail, his affinity for puzzles, innate sense of direction, advanced problem-solving skills, and relentless persistence made him a successful sleuth. And the blond had built a business from that.
However, without anything to go by on the corpse, Levi was baffled himself.
He had no way of reading the victim, no clothes, shoes, anything that could tell what or who he was.
The morgue door swung open suddenly, a voice singing loudly as she entered. The four grown men present exchanged curious and amused looks, waiting for the owner of the voice to be revealed. There entered Sam Gray, mouth open in the middle of bellowing another note. Eyes in evident shock, cheeks turning beet red immediately. She flashed them a sheepish grin after muttering a 'sorry' and swiftly turning for escape.
"Sam" Dr Summers greeted fondly, and she halted mid-step, turned, and smiled at him, still embarrassed. "Sorry." She apologized again for disturbing the group.
Dr Summers leaned to Davies, "let me try something." And Davies just nodded slightly confused.
Levi eyed Sam Gray, and he could see she was rested, and happy. For reasons, he can't tell. Her long hair was in an intricate braid, and she was wearing a watch, from the looks of it at least five years old, a few scratches here and there. The design was not like what most women would wear; it was practical and functional; water-resistant, and made from titanium.
She was also wearing her lab gown; he mentally noted based on the embroidery on her breast pocket. He assumed she came there for a reason, something to do with the conveyor based on her body language.
'A body? No, why would she look guilty?' Levi thought.
Dr Summers approached Sam and pulled the conveyor in front of her, in it was a black body bag. Sam pouted in defeat when the older gentleman unzipped it, revealing a corpse of an older woman and next to her was a can of coke and KitKat.
"Sam, hiding food in the conveyor again, I see." Dr Summers chided, the first few times that he found snacks inside the body bags he was surprised. Now he was used to seeing it once in a while, just setting it aside when he would perform autopsies.
The redhead's nose wrinkled in defeat, cheeks beet red for getting caught. Dr Summers handed her the Can and KitKat. "So, sorry. I'll never-, no, I'll probably do it again. Sorry." she corrected herself. "Ms Hart's strictly monitoring your diet again?" Dr Summers asked.
Most times Levi would be annoyed with the delay unless he was learning something--he would have uttered a complaint or smart-aleck response by then. But he remained silent, observing, 'reading', and his silence did not go unnoticed by his friend Marco and 'client' Detective Sergeant Davies.
The two exchanged knowing looks, watching Levi observe the redheaded woman.
'Rulebreaker', Levi decided.
Dr Summers shifted to the men in the room, "Apologies, Sergeant Davies of CID, Mr Levi Jackson, and Dr Marco Evans. This is our resident genius Dr Samantha Gray, Director of Forensics." he introduced one another.
"Pleasure." Sam shook each man's hand, with Levi last. He held her hand longer than necessary, earning curious stares from everyone.
"Piano," he said, the redhead taking note of his soft Irish accent. "You play the piano." He rephrased. She smiled at him in surprise, "Yes. I do." She admitted. Levi twisted her hand gently sideways and touched her fingers casually.
"And a string instrument...guitar?" He added, arching a brow. Sam turned to Dr Summer in awe, "Correct again," she confirmed.
"*cough* Show-off *cough*" Marco commented in between coughs, earning a glare from the blond, whilst Davies pressed his lips together to keep from cackling.
Attempting to change the subject, Dr Summers gestured to the John Doe on the examining table. "Anyhow, do you mind Sam?" he asked. Sam gave him a quizzical look which turned into a scowl when it sank in her.
"Oh." She deadpanned.
Davies looked at the Doctor in question, "Well, you see...Dr Gray here has a peculiar talent. She can talk to the dead." He explained.
"Oh god, that's not true." Sam denied it completely. Dr Summers turned to her and said, "But you did it with Dr Richards" he insisted.
"That was...luck." She said dismissively, opening her can of coke and taking a sip, after wiping the lid with a disinfectant swab.
"You told him her name." Dr Summers pushed.
"Her?" Marco asked curiously, "The dead woman, a Jane Doe." Dr Summers explained.
The three gave Sam an expectant look, she neither denied nor confirmed naming the woman.
"Well, if you don't mind...give it a shot. We're at a dead-end, I'm willing to try anything!" Davies said, slightly amused at the notion.
"We're not." Levi denied.
"Don't mind him; he's a pessimist. Go ahead if you don't mind, Dr Gray." Marco urged.
"C'mon now, young lady. Give it a shot." Dr Summers pushed her toward the dead man gently.
"Humor us." Davies insisted, smiling.
Sam sighed in defeat. "Hell. Don't blame me if this doesn't work." She said as she pulled a stool and placed it beside the examination table, while everyone watched. She handed her coke to Dr Summers. She used the stool to step on top of the examining table. Her legs apart on either side of John Doe.
She faced the corpse, looking down at its face, concentrating, absorbing his features. The scene started to feel unsettling, and Davies was about to speak when Levi's hand raised to stop him from uttering a word.
Levi watched her close her eyes; brows closed together in concentration. Her green eyes snapped open seconds later, and she jumped off the examining table, landing perfectly on her feet.
"I don't have a name, but try Carlson Co. Got to go," she said casually, taking her coke and walking out of the morgue.
Davies furrowed his brows, "Carlson Co.?" he repeated, "What was that?" He asked no one in particular.
"The Dead Whisperer." Dr Summers answered, catching the three men's attention. "Pardon?" Marco asked.
Dr Summers' lips spread into an amused grin. "That's what people call her. An eccentric woman works too much, sleeps too little, listens to too loud of music for my taste...but never boring", he said.
"Why is she called that?" Davies asked. "Because she talks to the dead, Sergeant!" Dr Summers answered as he walked out the door cackling.
Marco turned to Levi, who was still trying to figure out the woman. "That was.... interesting," he told the blond.
"It was, indeed."
The bearded man turned to the stout man, who was scribbling it down his notepad as they walked out of the morgue. "Well, Carlson Co. Are you going to?" Marco asked Davies.
The man shrugged, "Might as well." He said, desperate enough to do so.
.....................
2 Hours later-Jackson Detectives Agency
Levi laid on the mustard Lawson styled sofa in the office, which clients usually used while waiting their turn. Images of Sam Gray on top of the dead body flashed in his mind.
While Marco sat at his table, going through his work emails, searching for any compelling cases that the blond might be interested in taking personally when his mobile dinged. He grabbed it on his table and read the message from his good friend Davies.
Marco's eyes widened, reading through it, and he stood suddenly from his seat catching the Mike and Alex attention who were both busy writing paperwork for each of the cases they were handling. Seeing as the agency was currently empty, Marco spoke openly and read the text out loud, "I can't believe I'm saying this, Dead Whisperer came through. Our John Doe is Jeremy Meyer, works as a messenger at Carlson Co., a small delivering company".
"Fudging hell!" he exclaimed in shock. "She's psychic!" He added, looking at his friend on the sofa. Levi rolled his eyes at the bearded man's assumption, "That's a fret!" he replied with a snort.
"Then, how did she?" Marco asked, eyes remaining on him, searching for answers. Levi stood up and grabbed his coat by the rack. "I don't know, but I will find out," he claimed confidently. He turned to look at the bearded man, "Well, are you coming?" he asked, and Marco followed behind in a hurry.
"That's a fret" is an expression of disbelief.
Dec 9, 2020: started editing after doing further research. Some minor details that Ive edited so far and will be editing when I do have more time will be changing Metropolitan Police Department into Criminal Investigation Department.