Chapter 2 

“its been a while since we’ve needed you lot,” said Caralox, taking a deep drag on his battered cigarette. He was a skinny, mean looking man with a narrow face covered in grey stubble and a hairline that was fighting a losing battle with time. Skulduggery didn’t really have an opinion on him. He was some sort of minor administrator, but had once been a promising detective. Three bullets and a stab wound had shut that chapter on the life of Caralox the young idealist, though, and begun the story of Caralox the bitter cynic.

“We’ve not had a suspicious death here for over thirty years,” continued Caralox, smoke pouring out of his mouth and nose, making him look like some sort of mangy dragon. “Terou’s a nice town.”

Skulduggery shrugged, “probably a tourism thing. ‘Terou’, town of culture and colour, come and see the floral discotheque, buy a t-shirt, kill a local’. I bet it’s in all the brochures.”

Caralox snorted, and pointed at the body that lay covered by a white sheet. The street was quiet and deserted now, the houses cleared by a team of sensitives and sorcerers. Cleavers manned cordons at either end of the road.

“Whatever. His name’s Jako Augment. Take a look, then go away.”

Skulduggery crouched beside the stiff body, and peeked beneath the sheet. “No sign of any injury?”

“Only the ones he got in the fall. Coroners say he’s got a load of scratches on his body though. Deep and nasty, and self-inflicted.”

“Self-inflicted?” repeated skulduggery. “Not defence marks?”

“They don’t think so, but won’t say for sure ‘til the proper autopsy. All of this is just the obvious stuff.  There’s bruising on his temples, again, self-inflicted. His feet are all bloody, too.”

Skulduggery straightened up and straightened his suit, “Does he have any history of self-abuse? This might be a suicide.”

Caralox shook his head, “not the type. He preferred to do the hurting on others.”

“Criminal?”

“Thug. He did some work for a couple of gangs in ulster once, cheap and nasty.”

“Gangs open up the possibility of a hit.” Mused skulduggery, but Caralox just shrugged,

“That’s why you’re here.” He said, “If you want my opinion, it’s no great loss, but a gang war isn’t something we can afford. We’re already stretched thin.”

It was true. After Vengeous, the Diablerie, Argeddion, and Scarab, resources were increasingly low, unlike Grill, the quartermaster’s, blood pressure.

Skulduggery nodded, “I’ll look into it.”

“Good.” Said Caralox, turning away and stalking off towards his battered ford fiesta, “I’ll have the autopsy report sent over to Roarhaven. The body too.  Get that scuttling wretch Nye to take a look at it.”

“Miss you already.” Called skulduggery, but Caralox ignored him. 

skulduggery stared at the body for a few minutes in silence, letting his thoughts percolate. Eventually, the coroners came over and asked him to leave, as the needed to pack up the body before it started to rot, as they’d had to drive it to the morgue, and the van would stink, and harry would throw up, and then it would smell worse.

Skulduggery left gratefully, an idea already forming in his fertile mind. he stared at his phone thoughtfully for a moment, in the cosy confines of the Bentley. his finger hovered over the button to call Valkyrie, and fell away as the phone began to buzz and vibrate in his hand.