The room stinks of deodorant, body spray, acrylic paint and that dirty fucking copper of spilt blood…
Oh and Death….
A fuckload of Death.

Outside the door I can hear the pain of parents…I do that Lobo thing…

Zone it out and concentrate on the task in hand.

Typical teenage room…
A DreamPod…a ViewScreen…MirrorCam….
A pile of discarded, unwashed clothes…Image Grabs on the walls…A Poster for The PHAZELORDS anniversary gig…Paintings….
A load of fucking paintings…
Oh….and a body.

A dead body…

On the bed.

I figure he was about 14…still too young for the Splice….Kid’s still sporting his parent’s gene mix…
A Squirrel and a Mouse…
Poor fuzzy little fuck.
I do that bending over…take in the stained sheets…notice the Pill jar and the half empty bottle of bleach…

I figure he was still taking his ReGen…had to tackle his problem threefold…Sure enough, as I check out the ruined wrist I can see the scars…the places where his body continued to heal…
Musta taken hours…
I get that sickness…washes over me…

My name’s Detective Kurt Lobo and I’ve seen a whole load of shit…Fuck me, I’ve even see a man explode…Inside out…but these cases always get to me…

SUICIDES………

Figure I’ve still got me a heart.

A stack of handwritten notes on the bedside table….I know before I even look…
Sure enough…Poetry…I do a sigh, heavy and deep…
Me and Poets always seem to come up against each other…a job like mine? I don’t have time for pretty words…

I sniff the room….make some notes on my Pad….put in a call to the morgue and leave the room as I found it…

Walk out into tears and disbelief…
Pain.

He was a good kid….quiet and studious…not many friends but loved by those he had….Artist, Poet….such a good good boy….

The mother grabs my paw…I let her….
“We knew he was not himself….he wouldn’t talk to us but we knew…The amount of times I rang the Facility but they didn’t want to know….just wouldn’t listen…”

I swallow some bad shit…make those noises…
The empty, useless ones…
Leave my number and stalk out into the EverNight…

Out into the Dust…

The day continues…does its thing…
A theft…a breaking and entering….a crowd of FoxBoys high on bootleg Hendrix pills…
But it’s there…nagging at me like an open sore…

Suicides I can get….in this world we live too long…see too much bad shit…but that’s for the old and tired….not for the young…

Never for the young…

I pull the car over…watch me some Dust…do some thoughts.
I make with another sigh…punch some buttons…
Make a call…

“Kid? I need some background…need some VoiceFiles…”
Terminate the call and settle into a wait.

The Neon and Dust keep me company.

EDUCATION FACILITY BETA….

The place looks more like a fucking prison than a school…one of the old buildings…thrown together in the days before the Fall…
As I climb the concrete steps to the main entrance I recognize more than a few faces from my day job…
Perps in training….Street Scum….
Nice place.

I flash my badge at the CatGirl on the main desk…ignore her questions and carry on walking…locate the office….take a breath….a deep one…
Do me a barge..
The guys a MoleSplice…all horn rimmed glasses and self importance…looks like he’s about to wet himself….
I let myself enjoy the moment then flash my badge….tell him I’ve got a few questions…lend a little anger to my voice…
Give him the Lobo routine…

Good…got his damn attention…

Here comes his P.A…..A PoodleSplice….I shit you not….a fucking Poodle…I can see she hates me already…
Heads up sister….the feelings mutual…

We do the questions…they’re on edge…both of them…
I can smell fear and guilt…
Such a shame….such a talented young man….if only they had known….if only it had been brought to their attention….

Bingo!

I do a snarl….throw some paperwork across the desk…Mole jumps like I just slapped him…
There’s still time Sunshine….still time…
“Read it!” I bark…..
He makes with the reading….gets progressively paler….
It’s a Voice Log….covers the last two weeks….23 separate calls….all from the same number…all to this office…
Not one of them taken….plus, and here’s the killer, I got me the internal network feed as well….

Here’s my favourite bit….

POODLE: “She’s on the phone again, sir. Should I patch her through?”
MOLE: “For fucks sake! What is wrong with this woman? It’s not my fault her fragile little boy still hasn’t grown a pair….tell her I’m in a meeting….tell her I’ll get back to her….”
POODLE: “Are you sure, sir?”
MOLE: “YES! I don’t have time for this shit….I’m up to my neck in the Budget file….”

I make him read it out…aloud…enjoy the break in his voice….
Make him read it again….
“Grab your coats….you’re both coming with me….”

I can see them in my mirror….huddled on the back seat….figure they’ve never been in a squad car before…least not one that smells like this….
I do a little bit of crazy driving….
Figure what the fuck and do some more…a whole lot more….
Make sure the Ten minute journey takes Thirty minutes…..
Wait until they turn a little green….
Until I can see the fear….

The Morgue’s empty….I called ahead….suggested Dorian might spill a little blood…..a little bit of fluid….
Suggested he might not clean it up….
Make damn sure Mole Boy walks through it….

Dorian’s turned the fans off….the place has got a good ripeness going on….saws and drills hanging from chrome hooks….
A row of bodies….shrouded in PlastiSheets….
I make with the reveal….sheet falling to the ground….watch their faces…

The kid’s on his back….got that stiffness going on….open stomach where Dorian retrieved the pills….pumped the bleach and extracted the ground glass….oh yeah, I forgot to mention the glass….the Kid was pretty damn sure he wanted to go…

Mole’s looking away….
Makes me kinda angry…
Grab his neck….pull him close and push his face down….inches away from the Boy’s…
Leave him there long enough to remember….
Long enough to get that stink….deep down in his self important fucking lungs…

“I can’t bust you clowns for anything….much as I fucking want to….but I can give you this….this beautiful fucking moment….this kid was in your care….he was your fucking charge and what did you do? You worried about meetings and reputation and Spread Sheets….

FUCKING SPREAD SHEETS!

We put our kids into your hands and expect you to do you best…to notice….to fucking care…
Remember this….this moment….because sure as fuck I’ll be remembering you…..”

I let go…he may fall into something unpleasant…I may do a laugh….
Turn away….lock the door….throw the keys to Dorian….
“Give them thirty minutes…..”

The air outside feels good…..

Later that night I ‘bump’ into one of the faces I recognized from the School….we have a little talk….get me some names….some addresses….a ring leader….the Bullies….

He’s only limping on one leg when I let him go….
The day’s looking up….

Time for some house calls….

FIN.