Miss Morgan and the Gypsy

Fourteen: The Interview

St. George scowled at the coon. Fishing plentiful pounds from his pocket, St. George, with a suspicious brow, handed over the wad of currency over to Kappi. He snapped his hand away as if he'd get bitten, then Kappi darted out to Alfred, holding up the payment to him.

"By God!" St. George marveled. "He did it."

"Just be careful if you hand him a coin," Nicu responded. "He will take that. He adores shiny objects."

"Like guns?" St. George chided.

"Exactly. He detests paper."

"Why?"

Nicu shrugged. "He does not see the same kind of value in it as we do. If you really think about it, we are fools, giving such power to a flimsy and easily damageable piece of paper."

Nicu went to work, cutting the bloated skin as St. George kept his distance, questioning, "How does this not make you squeamish?"

"It simply does not bother me."

St. George shook his head and went to lean against a table, making it whine, but immediately sat up when he noted how wet it was and fearing it to be blood. "I will be throwing this waistcoat in the trash as soon as we are done here. The smell of death will probably cling to it long after."

Nicu ignored his friend's ramblings as he grunted in an effort to pry open the ribs. "Someday, I am going to create a device that will make this easier and keep the ribs open. I will call it..." Nicu paused, slowly stiffening at the sight before him, whispering, "What the devil?"

St George, oblivious to his comrades perplexed findings, stated, "Aren't you the least bit troubled that you did not obtain permission to do this? You are messing with someone's corpse."

When St. George didn't receive a reply, he straightened and strode over to the table. "Curse my lack of discipline and succumbing to curiosity." Braving his nausea, St. George peered down at what Nicu was staring at with his cloth over his mouth and nose. "They're charred as if flames had been ignited inside them."

"Indeed," Nicu answered.

"From the smoke of the fire?" St George hypothesized.

"Not to this extent, Phal." Nicu began examining further. "This is from years and years of inhalation."

"How is that possible?"

"I am not sure yet. Step back and let me further examine."

"Are you sure the smoke from the fire did not cause this."

"Yes, Phal. I am positive." Nicu continued investigating the corpse. "Kidneys were in poor condition, heart muscles abnormally thick, the valves on the right side of the heart seem... peculiar as if there had been leaking." Nicu pulled away and reexamined the skin. "Papules around the navel and thighs of the skin."

"Could it have been from the illness?" St. George inquired.

"I have not seen an illness like this before." Nicu straightened, backing away as he wiped his face and hand with a cloth.

"What is it?" St. George asked.

Nicu sat down on a bench, elbows resting on legs as still somewhat bloodied hands pushed his hair back. "Taking in the damage done to the lungs, the state of the organs, and the papules. This was not a simple virus. It is a disease of some sorts."

"And?" St. George continued to question.

Nicu licked his lips, eyes locking onto his friends. "I need more time with the corpse."

St George's mouth sloped down, eyes blanking. "I have to pay him more, don't I? We could go to jail for bribing an official of the crown."

"Go bargain with him. See how much time you can get me."