Nocturnes Read Online Free Page A

familiar names. All that remained of a life, of loves and disappointments. A name, whispered among friends, wept over by family…and called out in anguish in the long night of mourning.
    Consciously he tried to avoid it, but his eyes kept returning to a troubling little paragraph that whispered of Atlanta.
    Itinerant male found dead
near Braintree Station.
Identity unknown. Cause
of death uncertain.
Pending coroner’s report.
    There was absolutely nothing to connect the two deaths. Nothing except a fevered imagination fueled by too many sleepless nights. He knew that he needed more rest than he had been getting. He also knew that he had taken the old woman’s death too personally. He knew that the whole thing was crazy. He picked up the phone and got the number to the County Coroner’s office.

*
    “Sorry to keep you waiting, sir. Please follow me.”
    Isaac was led down several winding corridors of tile and chrome and flickering fluorescent lighting. The attendant introduced Isaac to the assistant coroner as Arthur Stratton, the name that he had given over the phone when he had called as a concerned relative looking for his missing brother.
    Isaac was still swimming in disbelief over his own actions. He could not rationally explain to himself what he was trying to accomplish by viewing the dead body of a transient in a town that wasn’t even his home. But when he tried to disengage himself from the gruesome task, he could feel the annoying tug of his conscience urging him on. He had to follow his gut on this if he was going to have any peace.
    “Hello, Mr. Stratton. I’m sorry to meet under such solemn circumstances. Hopefully, this part of your search will prove futile.”
    The assistant turned and led the numbed Isaac to a gurney occupied by a linen-swathed figure. With no preamble, he pulled the pale garment from an even more colorless body.
    The abrupt face-to-face with death caused Isaac to sway and clutch at the gurney for support, find the cadaver’s arm instead, and pull it off the edge. It dangled there, outstretched with rigor mortis and pointing at the shaken old man like an accusation.
    The attendant grabbed him and Isaac composed himself enough to notice the bruised and punctured skin near the joint of the dead man’s elbow. The young coroner rearranged the arm, covered the face, and looked questioningly into Isaac’s face.
    Isaac finally managed to tear his gaze from the figure. He looked into the coroner’s eyes and shook his head. “Just out of curiosity,” casually, cautiously, “how did he die?”
    “Nothing terribly exciting. A combination of poor physical health and morphine. I hesitate to call it an overdose because, in a healthy man, it wouldn’t have been. But his body had deteriorated enough from the disease that would have eventually killed him that the drug in his veins was just enough to help things along.”
    “The disease that would have killed him?’ Isaac asked, confused.
    “Yes. It seems that he was only a few months from succumbing to throat cancer. He probably knew his time was short. The morphine must have offered a combination of escapes…from the pain, and from the reality of his condition.”
    They had returned to the lobby. The coroner was shaking his head. “Unfortunately, he is just one of many such stories around here. He won’t even be missed. Well. I wish you luck in locating your brother, Mr. Stratton. Good afternoon.”
    Isaac had kept the taxi waiting, and his bags were in it.
    “Take me to the airport,” he said to the back of the driver’s head.
    He had anticipated something strange…almost a premonition. He had packed and made reservations on the next flight to Atlanta. This was a detour from his assignment, but he would only need a day there to wrap this up…whatever this was. Either there were similarities in the two deaths, or there weren’t. He would give the matter just that much attention and no more. But that much was necessary if he was