(Mokroye Delo)

By Nina Greenhill
z5115433

120 HOURS AFTER

See, the first problem you had, was pissing me off, She whispered into his ear, A very big problem
to have.
She tapped the tub with her boot. The bathmat dulled the noise. The dead mass slumped, a welt
protruding from his forehead.
She readjusted the rubber gloves, dropping the hairdryer into the glacial water. She smirked,
plugging the cord into the outlet.
Good thing you wont have that problem anymore.

3 YEARS EARLIER
Central Station lived up to its name. Floors expanded, pushing against its walls, trying to
accommodate the travellers, it was bursting at the seams with harmonious chaos. The station
helpers were stressed at the mothers looking for children right behind them, the businessmen with
laptop cases exactly like that one and the occasional stray animal.
She had taken a South Coast express, and ended up at platform 14. The first time above ground for
her, for a train from Sutherland. In a flurry of luggage laden losers from Port Kembla, she exited the
carriage expertly. Pair of parents struggled opening $1000 prams, and retirees wielding Louis

Vuittons from their superfunds blocked her path. Her Thermos was still hot, the tea only growing in
flavour. She slid the cap open and took a swig. The man directly in front of her stopped.
She slammed into him, unprepared for the solid wall of male in front of her. Tea spurted all over her
t-shirt.
Do you want to watch it? She was in no mood. It was entirely too early for her, and she still
needed a period of no talking before she was ready to actually interact with people. Then again, in
her opinion, midday was too early.
The man standing before her, was a mid-height and overweight Bradley Cooper look alike. Entirely
too happy to be awake.
Im sorry?
Damn straight you should be she veered around the hulking mass. He grabbed her arm.
I would refrain from that she tried to shrug him off.
He pulled a card out of his pocket, tightening his grip slightly.
Call me anytime She didnt take the card.
Let. Me. Go.
Never He went to kiss her cheek, only to be greeted with a head-butt, and a swift kick to the groin.
He doubled over - Whimpering in pain.
A slow clap sounded from the platform bench. Her hand burned from spilled liquid and showed no
signs of stopping. The clapping guy ran up to her, towel in hand, his workout bag left where he had
been. He guided her to his seat and dried her hand.
I can do that myself you know she dabbed at her searing hand.

Ah, But can you do this? He produced a shirt, a dry shirt from the deep pocket of the bag. It bore
an Elite Athletes emblazoned across the front. It didnt seem to match the slight chubby his build
possessed.
Three sizes too large, it afforded her the tent like space needed to change shirts straight away. She
was getting a cold, and wasnt about to walk around in a wet shirt.
That guy was an arsehole
She grunted in agreement.
Its not mine. But it is clean. He smiled, a face she didnt know she would see a hundred thousand
times more.
Ill make up for his bad behaviour. Come and get a coffee with me.
She grinned back. Tea is fine thanks
***

EVIDENCE SHOPPING LIST

CASE NUMBER: 10021
OFFICER OVERSEEING: INSPECTOR BENJAMIN LOEWE
DATE: 21 DECEMBER 2015

Shopping List:
Cling Wrap
Label Maker
Bucket Sour Worms
Potatoes
Cheese
Bacon

***

3 HOURS BEFORE
Ash, did you know that the surface area of human skin is between 5 and 7 feet square? He leaned
over to her.
No, and thats creepy Jerry. She straightened the papers, and then shoved them into her
messenger bag. The strap caught on the chair as she got up, jerking her back. She unlooped it and
stood up, unhindered. She pulled her beanie down, covering her ears. Her deep brown hair would
come to be flatter than the Nullarbor. She didnt mind.
Jerry smiled at her. It looked increasingly perverted every time he did it. The patchy beard didnt
help.
Pauls surgery was small, but it afforded him to give him the hours he wanted. Which is why he left
early almost every day, leaving her to pick up on her way home anything he occasionally forgot. She
was okay with that.
Her shoes didnt clack against the floor as she left, like the receptionists did. Her boots were
comfortable and warm against the New York winter, and she wouldnt have it any other way.
She decided to walk to their flat. They were nicely sandwiched between the second and fourth floors
in the Upper East Side. It was an inheritance from Pauls grandfather- a man who ate dinner with his
shirt tucked in. It was a rustic remnant from a time recorded in sepia.
She enjoyed the apartment they had had overlooking Central Park. She liked how big this apartment
was, but a view was infinitely superior with a field of trees.
She strutted along the sidewalk. The Americans had the strangest words. She had to restrain
herself from asking where the lollies, the capsicum and the rice bubbles were. Americans didnt
seem to understand Australian.
She ran up the stairwell, having too much energy to bear standing still in the elevator.

She had issues unlocking the door, the keys jamming in the hole. She wrestled with trying to get
them out. She leaned in as she pulled back, the corner slamming into her forehead.
Ash hardly made a sound when she got hurt, and this time was no exception. She tried jiggling them
one more time before giving up and leaving it open. She dumped her bag and coat where she stood,
putting her beanie through the cutlery drawer handle. She made her way slowly to the freezer. She
felt sick and the room had decided to tilt. Over and over again.
Paul, can you be a doctor right now? she inched to the freezer door, careful to stand away as she
opened it. She reached for the frozen peas, wrapping them in the Union Jack tea towel. She carefully
lowered herself onto the couch, not liking her chances of remaining vertical.
She had to stay awake. The last time her head hurt this much was the morning after Pauls Birthday.
Paul, I think I have a concussion
Footsteps walked toward her, entirely too loud.
She made a shushing noise, wincing, because that hurt too.
Looking up, it was not Pauls smiling eyes that greeted her but Mrs Jenkyns, framed by her wrinkles.
I told you to lay off the cheap American stuff. Import is the only way. Her voice was steeped in
Russian accent. She had married Mr Jenkyns during the cold war, and now it was over, she
abandoned her American accent faster than she abandoned the USSR. Mrs Jenkyns had lost her
husband last year. Literally lost him. He had ventured off hiking, never returning. Not a smart idea
for an 82 year old, but neither of them dared to say it aloud. They had discovered they both enjoyed
schnapps during the ordeal. Mrs Jenkyns understood, sometimes you just needed to take the edge
off.
An uncommon pairing, they worked. Which was why the Russian made loud proclamations around
the apartment as she cleaned up the evident mess her younger counterpart had just made.

You finally decided to get a cleaner I see

No we didnt Ash murmured.
Finally I can see the kitchen counter!
Wheres the mail then? Ash muttered. She hadnt noticed the lack of tabloids. If Paul had
cleaned, he would have left her crossword out. She was only halfway through.
And the floor! Not one stray shoe or piece of clothing! Remember the first time I was invited here
and in the cupboard I found
Can you get me a blanket please Ash cut her off.
Affirmations followed as the sturdy Mrs Jenkyns shuffled into the bedroom. Mrs Jenkyns was like a
mother to her in this city. She helped her find the supermarket, a job the way to the local pizzeria.
Mrs Jenkyns screamed, a shrill and entirely loud noise that Ash was not entirely prepared for. She sat
up, and rushed to her elderly neighbour, still clutching the vegetables to her head.
She pushed the door open wider, hitting it against something soft, not the wall. She looked down.
She dropped the bag of peas.

***
EVIDENCE TRANSCRIPT AUDIO RECORDING
CASE NUMBER: 10021
OFFICER OVERSEEING: INSPECTOR BENJAMIN LOEWE
DATE: 21 DECEMBER 2015

[RECORDING BEGINS]
Voice 1: Thats a fine piece of woman youve got there
Voice 2: Shes a person, not a piece of meat.
[IMPORTANT NOTE: Voice 2 appears to sound offended]
Voice 1: Were all pieces of meat
Voice 2: We have souls
Voice 1: We have emotions
Voice 2: What emotions do you have?
[IMPORTANT NOTE: Voice 2 displays traits of tiredness with the topic of conversation]
Voice 1: Jealousy, lust, want.
Voice 2: Thats a bit of a limited range of emotions. Have you tried to broaden them?
Voice 2: Maybe attempt at a happy or fulfilled?
Voice 1: I cant
Voice 2: Why not?
Voice 1: Youre in my way
Voice 2: Im sorry, Ill go. Appointments are light. I can work from home anyway. See you
[IMPORTANT NOTE: Receding steps are heard, concluded to have been Voice 2, followed by the
sound of a door closing. Voice two has left the premises]
Voice 1: No, its literally you.
[IMPORTANT NOTE: Voice 2 has been identified as Paul Newcomer. Voice 1 has not been
identified]
[RECORDING ENDS]
***

4 HOURS AFTER
Was there anything out of the ordinary? The Inspectors New York drawl brought her back to the
present. His tie was crooked.
It was clean. Our apartment was always stacked with magazines, and books, and snippets, AND ITS
ALL NOT THERE! Ash cried, her head hurt so much, and the proper ice pack did nothing.
He nodded, giving the impression he understood. He didnt.
None of them understood.

48 HOURS AFTER
The police counsellor advised her that the shock of this might not hit her straight away.
It might hit like a steamroller, it might crash into her like a wave. She hadnt wept yet.
She didnt feel sad. It was something she could have done something to prevent. It was no drunk
driver at a red light. It wasnt a falling piano. It wasnt an allergic reaction. It was a calculated and
executed murder. There was only one thing she could do.
She managed a neutral expression as she collected Pauls personal effects from the surgery as if
cubic centimetres could contain his life and career.
Ash, did you know consuming raw human flesh makes a person mad?
Not today Jerry, The picture frame rested comfortably in her hand. Her thumb ran along Pauls
cheek. Her head hurt. Her heart more.
My condolences. He always brought something extra to the table here, Jerry handed her an
envelope. He stood inches from her.
She shoved past him, the box now full to the brim.
Jerry insisted on walking her home. She declined. He instead walked her to the door of the surgery.
He was walking very close to her. The tension was palpable.
She walked a little faster down the hallway. There were photos of just about every patient on the
walls, all standing next to Paul. She had to get out. Jerry hastened his pace, his brown corduroy
jacket flapping, tie pressing into his pudgy chest, trying to hold on. He was a walking turd in
personality and fashion choice.
She was sad to leave the surgery. She had grown fond of the staff and the happy atmosphere. But
Jerry was a ship she would gladly see sail away.

***
EVIDENCE TRANSCRIPT: INSTANT MESSAGE EXCHANGE
CASE NUMBER: 10021
OFFICER OVERSEEING: INSPECTOR BENJAMIN LOEWE
DATE: 21 DECEMBER 2015

21 December 2015 15:35

[PAUL]
Hey, can you swing by work and get a stack of
papers from my desk?

[ASH]

I forgot them
Sure. Inbox or outbox? Which stack?
Inbox, as in, Id like to be in your box tonight ;)
Paul, those lines didnt work when
you were single
But sure.
You can get in my box tonight.
Be right home!

Love You :)

72 HOURS AFTER

***
Love You too!

His box had grown heavy on the way home, now resting on the kitchen bench. She couldnt bring
herself to open it. She wasnt ready for that. The pink blanket was pulled from the couch arm,
disgruntled. It knew it wouldnt be returned folded. She wrapped it snuggly around herself.

She trudged up to Mrs Jenkyns. She decided to forgo solid lunch, not being able to muster the will
for delivery. Mrs Jenkyns would know what to do, and hopefully it would involve liquid. The Russian
pulled open the door with a ferocious tug. Ash walked in, armour of wool. Not a single tear shed.

The old lady shuffled to the bottom right cupboard under the sink. It always kept cold during winter.
Right next to the drainpipe, the snow accumulated, an excellent pseudo-icebox. The alcohol
wouldnt freeze there, but it was always nicely chilled.
She placed the cinnamon schnapps onto the table. Two shot glasses followed.
I will tell you the story of my son. And you will listen. She always was straightforward.
Cheers was said, and the first shot down.
He chose to go back to the town I am from. Its a small town, maybe youve heard of it. St
Petersburg?
Ash nodded. A small smile breaching her lips.
He did what all young men from New York do, and fell in love with a pretty, headstrong girl. But
unlike my Husband, he stayed in Russia. He called me every Thursday morning and told me how
completely happy he was. And to send him some more cigarettes. Eleven months before he came
home, she died. She had drowned herself in the Peterhof palace fountains.
He found her with a bottle in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Just like every other Wednesday
night. There are worse ways to die. He went back to those fountains every day. The town forgot her,
he did not. Every day, he went there with a bottle of vodka, and drank it. I get a call at 8 am in the
morning from one of his town friends, asking me to pick up my son at the airport. I was so happy. To
hear someone talking in my tongue, so I get into my station wagon and drive to the airport. I walk to
the information desk looking for help. The lady comes from behind the desk and offers to walk me
there. What service I think! How wonderful. She directs me through the maze of JFK, and into this
little room.
She paused and poured herself another shot.
He was in a coffin.

Ash was silent. Mrs Jenkyns downed her glass.

She was his soulmate. He couldnt be apart from her.
Ash nodded. Paul was hers.
Do not hurry to meet him Ash. Because if you EVER do that to me, I will bring you back to life and
kill you myself
Ash poured herself the liquid courage.
Paul is fine without me for a while. I just want to get even with whoever did this.
Mrs Jenkyns smiled.
Drink up and stay here dearie. No one should be alone for Christmas Eve

POLICE REPORT - CRIME SCENE

CASE NUMBER: 10021
OFFICER OVERSEEING: INSPECTOR BENJAMIN LOEWE
DATE: 21 DECEMBER 2015

SUMMARY:
At the request of Chief J. Samuels this officer was requested to respond to the scene of the
homicide. The preliminary investigation revealed that the victim was mutilated at the scene
and spread throughout the master bedroom and the bathroom
SCENE:
The victim was sawn into pieces. His right hand was placed on top of the alarm clock. His left
hand was found attached with thread to his right arm inside a shirt hanging inside the
wardrobe. His left arm was under the pillow on the right hand side of the bed. His
torso/chest area was found submerged in a bathtub filled with formaldehyde. His legs were
hung from the ceiling lights. His feet wore found inside his running shoes. Large amounts of
blood were found soaked into the carpet. Defrosting peas were found scattered across the
crime scene.

PROCESSING:
Our unit collected the victim after taking photographs. Paramedics were called for the
victims wife, who was concluded to be in shock and suffering a concussion. Extra unit was
needed to restrain upstairs neighbour.
EVIDENCE COLLECTED:
The victims remains
The victims clothes
Audio recording from the phone of Ashleigh Newcomer
Text message from the phone of Ashleigh Newcomer
Paper note
PENDING:
Interviews with staff from Paul Newcomer Surgery.

144 HOURS AFTER

The police tape was the least alarming issue about the apartment. The inspector had entered it
almost a week before. Only, it was on the Upper East Side. This apartment was overlooking Central
Park. Everything was the same, and it was clean. The heavy pink blanket over the couch, the beanie
through the drawer, even anniversary photos. In each place where Paul Newcomer was supposed to
be, in name or photo, was the apartment owner. He was everywhere but anywhere he could be
found. The only detail different to the apartment on the Upper East Side was a white piece of card. It
sat on the kitchen counter. Perfectly conspicuous against the meticulously clean apartment.
***
Evidence from Case Number: 3145
(Jerry Vermidino disappearance)

it is not advisable to anger a wet worker