Jekyll & Hyde Inc.

“She must be on something,” said Paul, with what dignity he had left. “She punted me out of the way like a runaway truck.”

“She won’t get far,” said Daniel. “Nigel and Oscar must have blocked off the rear by now, and if she tries that trick on Oscar she’ll just bounce right off him.”

“Well, no more mister nice guy,” said Paul. He drew his Taser. “From now on, anyone who even looks at me funny is going to dance the funny dance.”

Daniel nodded, and drew his own Taser. “She’s probably already on her phone to someone higher up, to ask for instructions.”

“Let her,” said Paul. “It’s time to bring the hammer down.”

The back room turned out to be just an open space, its gloom only partly pushed back by light spilling through from the shop. No furniture, no stock, nothing but another door on the far side of the room. Which crashed open suddenly as Oscar barged through, with Nigel right behind him.

“Thought it had been quiet a bit too long,” said Nigel. “So I had the Bear announce us. He’s so useful to have around; our very own human battering ram.”

“Next time I’ll use you as a battering ram,” said Oscar, massaging his shoulder.

“Did a teenage girl just run past you?” said Paul.

Nigel raised an eyebrow. “Hardly.”

“Where is everybody?” said Oscar.

“There was only the one girl,” said Daniel. “And she got away. But if she didn’t leave through the back door . . . ”

“Then there must be a hidden exit in here,” said Paul.

It didn’t take them long to discover the trapdoor in the floor. They got it open easily enough, revealing rough stone steps falling away, illuminated by a single hanging bulb. Daniel held his Taser out before him and started down, with the others following close behind. After a while, Daniel wrinkled his nose.

“Can you smell . . . blood?”

“Reminds me of the butcher shop my old uncle used to run,” said Paul.

“We knew this was a chop shop,” said Oscar.

“Even a backstreet surgery should smell of antiseptic, not offal,” said Nigel.

“This is going to be a bad one,” said Daniel.

Nobody argued with him.

The steps ended at a locked door. Daniel stood to one side, so Oscar could do the business. He charged down the steps and slammed the heavy door open, and they all rushed in, Tasers at the ready. The low-ceilinged cellar was bigger than the shop above, starkly illuminated by overhead fluorescent lights and packed from wall to wall with trestle tables bearing dozens of naked corpses, cut open so the organs could be removed. Blood-spattered rib cages had been levered back, over empty crimson caverns. Arms and legs had been sliced open, to get at the muscles and tendons. There were no eyes in the faces, no tongues in the gaping mouths. Even the skulls had been sawed open and emptied out. The harsh light was merciless in revealing every detail, and the stench of blood and death was almost unbearable.

The policemen huddled together, like children who’d found their way into an ogre’s lair.

“This is no surgery,” said Nigel. “This is a charnel house.”

“A chop shop,” said Oscar.

“This isn’t what we came here for,” said Paul.

Daniel didn’t say anything. He was too sickened, and too angry.

At the back of the room, three figures in blood-soaked surgical gowns were bent over a patient on a table. Held in place by heavy leather straps, he still fought and heaved as the surgeons’ hands disappeared into the hole they’d made in his torso; and bit by bit they took him apart. Scalpels cut and slashed, and gloved hands removed all the useful pieces, placing them carefully on waiting steel trays. The patient would have filled the cellar with his screams, if he hadn’t been so thoroughly gagged.

Blood spurted, and steam rose from the opening into the chilly air of the cellar. Daniel stood frozen in place by shock and horror, as one of the surgeons put aside his scalpel and thrust both hands into the bloody opening. He pulled out the man’s heart, and held it up so the other surgeons could admire it. The patient heaved against his restraints one last time, and then lay still. Blood spilled down his sides, and dripped off the table to splash on the floor.

Daniel knew there was nothing he could have done to save the man. Everything he’d seen had taken place in just a few moments. But for the rest of his life he would be tormented by the thought that he should have done something. He raised his voice.

“Get away from him, you bastards!”

The three surgeons straightened up and stared at the newcomers with wide, surprised eyes over their face masks. Blood dripped thickly from the instruments in their hands. Daniel raised his Taser and looked around for the missing teenage girl, but couldn’t see her anywhere—which meant there had to be a hidden exit. He was surprised he could still think clearly, in the midst of so many atrocities. But perhaps he needed to, in order to stay sane.

Paul leveled his Taser at all three surgeons impartially.

“Police! You’re under arrest!”