The Not Too Ordinary Night Shift

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Damn…" Cord muttered, half-asleep, but the ringing did not stop.

Ring! Ring!

I had just lied down… Who is calling in the middle of the night?

Reluctantly rising from the sofa on which he had collapsed, barely able to make it home, Cord walked into the hall and picked up the phone.

"Yes?"

"Cord, hello!" said the agitated voice of Force. "Were you sleeping?"

"That should be clear as hell…" muttered Cord, displeased.

"Wake up! There has been another murder! At the hospital!"

"At what hospital?"

"The sixth!"

"That is not in our district…"

"The victim was the driver who crashed into you!"

Wow.

"What?!"

"I'll pick you up in twenty minutes. Be ready!"

Well, it didn't take long for him to get ready: he had passed out in the same suit that he had been wearing at the dinner party. To wake up a little, he washed his face with cold water and made himself a double cup of coffee. But as soon as he sat down at the table, the doorbell rang.

"Of course, can't even drink coffee," he grumbled and headed for the door.

Force stood at the threshold. He looked at his friend in surprise.

"How nice you look today."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Putting his feet into his sneakers and locking the door, Cord trudged off after his partner. He sniffed.

"Drunk as well?"

"Day off, I have the right. You better tell me exactly what happened!"

"Double murder, that's what!"

"You said—"

"Soon you'll see everything for yourself!"

***

The hospital was full of people: several police cars, the forensic's van, and a flock of ever-present journalists and reporters.

One of them noticed the new arrivals.

"We're from the Main Channel! What happened here?" began a journalist.

"Get lost!" Cord, quickening his pace, passed through the cordon with Force.

Chief was waiting for them at the entrance.

"Finally! You guys! To the third floor! They are waiting for you there. Let's go!"

***

Chaos reigned in the corridors. Walking patients peeked furtively from behind the doors, nurses tried to drive them back into the rooms, and emergency doctors gave them instructions.

"Two bodies?" Cord asked Chief as soon as they entered the staircase, where it was a little quieter because the entrance to it was cordoned off.

"Yes, the first one we'll show you right now."

And rightly so: at the exit to the second floor lay the body of a doctor in a white coat turned red with blood. Cord stopped for a moment and studied him.

"Go to the next."

"You're not going to examine him?" Force was surprised.

"Later, it's probably a collateral murder. Let's move on."

They climbed to the third floor and walked down the corridor in which most of the people had gathered.

"Okay, everybody, stop crowding around! Disperse, disperse!" Chief loudly commanded, clearing the way. "Let the investigators pass!"

At the entrance to the ward, there were two strong police officers.

"This way, guys," Chief pointed to his investigators.

The chamber was completely trashed: the window was smashed, shards of glass were scattered all over the floor, a broken wooden chair lie near the door, and on the hospital bed, lying in his own blood and fragments, the man who had almost killed Dia and Cord had himself met his end.

Cord did not harbor warmth or any feelings for him; therefore, he experienced a fleeting sense of satisfaction upon seeing the body.

Having traversed the working forensic team, the investigators approached the victim.

"The carotid artery was cut. An amateur's job?" suggested Cord.

"Perhaps," confirmed Forensics, whom the investigator had not even noticed because of the screen. "A professional would more likely cut the jugular vein."

"Or he was frightened away. I would suppose by the doctor who is now sprawled on the stairs." nodded Cord.

"Not sprawling but lying," corrected Force.

"Judging by the broken window, this was the killer's departure route?" Cord calmly continued.

"Most likely. The dogs are looking for him. And he probably left traces." Forensics pointed to a smeared footprint in a pool of blood.

"Okay, so it won't be long. When did the murder take place?"

"Two hours ago. But we're just getting started. I advise you to talk with the witnesses for now. One orderly was wounded. The offender hit him on the head with a chair." Forensics pointed to the bloody side of part of the back of the chair. "So hurry up with him. Perhaps his injury is more serious than he thinks. Also, one nurse saw the face of the criminal. They are in the on-call room on the second floor."

"Thank you. Then we will talk to them first."

***

However, Cord lingered at the doctor's body.

"Six stabs," he counted. "The killer acted with certainty, but this corpse was clearly not planned."

"You think he panicked?"

"Possibly. And the tool—"

"There it lies." Force pointed to the small forensic flag, which stood next to the bloody knife on the next flight of stairs.

"At this time, it is quite simple, don't you think?"

"If we're lucky, we'll catch him by evening."

"If we're very lucky," Cord chuckled. "Okay, let's go to the on-call room."

***

On the second floor, the police had, more or less, cleared the corridor. The indignant walking patients who missed the entertainment were isolated in the wards; the doctors and nurses who worked that night crowded together in different corners and quietly discussed what had happened. Some were crying.

Next to the on-call room, the investigators met Chief and the head of the Southern Police Department.

"Try to be gentle with the witnesses," Chief warned them. "The nurse was hysterical, and they just now managed to reassure and calm her down. It's good that my colleague has a full-time psychologist."

"I told you, Saffron," he answered, "a staff psychologist is very helpful. And you don't want to put one on duty."

"Perhaps after today, I'll change my mind," Chief smiled politely. "Well, guys, let's go!"

It was quiet in the on-call room. There was a woman of about fifty sitting on the sofa, surrounded by colleagues trying to comfort her. She was sobbing softly and fiddling with a handkerchief in her hands. The orderly with the bandaged head nervously walked back and forth along the dining area.

"Good evening," Cord greeted those present. "My colleague and I—"

Suddenly the silence was torn apart by an ear-shattering scream:

"That's him! He's the killer!"