Story’s proving to be a bit difficult to gel. An annoyance, that.
“Told you,” said Pam as the three of us looked down at the crumpled body bag. She was pretty cheerful about it, and only a little bit smug. Pam likes being right; then again, don’t we all?
Once I was actually looking for it, the damned thing was easy enough to find; it had been stuffed down into what looked like an old septic tank, then had dirt scuffed over it. Greta looked slightly surprised that I had managed to track it down so quickly. “People are bad at hiding things,” I explained. “They always pick somewhere nobody’s going to want to look, so I start out by checking the places that smell the worst. Septic tanks and mass graves, Greta. Never hide things in those.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Greta. “That body bag isn’t current issue, by the way. It looks too old.”
“Yeah,” said Pam. “Before you ask: no fingerprints. What does it smell like, sir?”