QR Code Murders: Venomous

The flesh colored nail polish and manicure all spoke of the twenty plus years in the military and law enforcement. Kim Jergensen looked at her perfect set of fingernails. Yawquisha possessed long pink and silver nails that looked like claws. The two women laughed.

“What is the plan for you? Did you plan on getting enough B-roll?”

Kim asked.

“Absolutely. I want to make a great storyline for the three of you. Jergensen,Kitts, Darby. The triumvirate,” Yawquisha replied.

A wind kicked up in the summer heat. It was like a blast from the furnace of hell. Somehow, it was comforting however. Once Kim and Yawquisha had arrived twenty minutes ahead of time, the amount of time to kill presented itself with them observing each other’s nails. The two FBI agents met outside the medical examiner’s office. They were still somehow surprised at the detective’s punctuality. They of course let it roll off their backs, never paying attention to their mere fifteen minute rule.

Inside the medical examiner’s laboratory, there existed a cold sterility. The stainless steel and tiled floor was like an invitation into the harsh mouth of death. It was not always pretty and together and nice. Sometimes people get really messed up. Medical Examiner Talbert Smollet looked tallish. He had a trimmed mustache and stood straight like a tree at six feet seven inches in height. He smoked cigars but no one knew it here, of course, dealing with flammable fluids like formaldehyde. He gave off the impression of the facts of his life. Twenty years in the Air Force, he lived forty minutes away in Dover, right near the base. He didn’t mind the commute. He greeted all four of them with a candor and a splendor that was not usually reserved for those who work with the dead. His smile was disarming and his snappy sense of humor could put a smile on the devil’s face.

“Detective Jergensen. Agents St. Kitts and Darby. Welcome to the Lab Cave.”

The law enforcement officials looked at each other and rolled their eyes so hard it was like they could fall right out of their skulls.

St. Kitts got right down to business. Yawquisha recorded everything quietly. Darby backed up his partner. Kim sighed.

“Dr., what did you think of the wounds that Mr. Fadwell received?”

St. Kitts asked.

“I think it’s what killed him.”

“Are they in any way unusual or strange?” Darby asked.

“If you want to be a gunshot wound victim it’s not,” Dr. Smollett fired back.

“Is there any sign of a struggle?” Kim queried. She sounded graven, all humor was removed from her tone.

Smollett seemed to get Kim’s severe demeanor. He switched up his own tone.

“No, I discovered not one bit of a struggle from this victim. I did notice that the series of QR tattoos have gotten a bit sloppy in the last few victims.”

“Sloppy how?” Darby asked.

“It’s like the tattooist was slouching on the job. It’s like they didn’t want to have the tattoo in the first place. Here, I’ll show you one from this week and another from last week.” Dr. Smollett retrieved his phone and scanned the different codes. One showed a music video, the other displayed an error message.

“It’s Tall K. In his absence, the artists are either not as skilled or are purposefully botching the jobs of the tattoos,” Kim observed. “Thank you doctor,” She said. Kim and the agents all went outside.

Yawquisha made a short video of the doctor in his natural habitat.

“How long have you been a medical examiner?”

“It’ll be twenty-eight years in December.”

“How do you cope with such a demanding, dour profession?”

“You see the smile on my face,” He looked glum like he was staring at a blank flat screen.

Yawquisha stifled a laugh.

“No, I take my work seriously but I try to be as jovial with the living as possible. Except for when I have hard nosed cops like your friend Jergensen there. She’s always been like that. She has a more venomous sense of humor.”