Windows To The Soul

Windows To The Soul

Dr. Ivor Treblinsky looked up from what he was working on when he heard the request.

“Can you identify them?

“Hello to you too, Detective Ron Coney”

The burly man in the rumpled, stained suit, sighed.

“Sorry Ivor. I’m in the middle of a case and it might be very important.”

The coroner eyed the small cooler the policeman had set on an empty side table at the head of the corpse he’d been working on. Curious, he stepped over to it and raised the lid.

“Where did you get these?” he asked abruptly.

“They got delivered to me by courier this morning.”

The doctor stripped off his gloves and donned a new pair. Carefully he picked up one of the two objects in the ice-filled cooler with forceps and examined it closely.

“They’re two different colors. Interesting.”

Ron huffed an exasperated sigh.

“Obviously they are eyeballs, very skillfully removed!”

“Even a knucklehead like me can tell that, any of your customers missing theirs?”

Ivor thought for a second.

“Now that you mention it, this young lady right here came in without hers,” he said, stepping to the head of the table and lowering the sheet.

Ron gulped at sight of the battered head with empty eye sockets.

“What’s her story?” he asked.

“She’s been identified as Gloria Benson...”

Ron’s eyes widened and without warning he began to scream. Ivor grabbed him by the shoulders and made him sit down.

“Who is she, Ron?”

“My fiancé...”

“Did you know she had two different colored eyes?” Ivor asked.

“She wore colored contacts, so I didn’t know. Maybe she was embarrassed about it.”

“What case are you working on now?”

“The Broadway Butcher,” he whispered brokenly.

“Time to up the chase, Ron. Your lady deserves rapid justice!”