52 Days of Disaster - Day 45
Taggart
Murder, murder polis,
Three stairs up.
The trouble with nursery rhymes, Jim Taggart felt, was that they could give people ideas. Two of the kids on his street had been called Jack and Jill, for example. When they'd grown up, they'd gotten married. And then she'd pushed him off a cliff. He'd shattered his head on the rocks below and died immediately, and just as they'd caught up to her, she'd turned and thrown herself down a bunch of stairs. Snapped her neck as she tumbled down, and was taken off life-support three days later.
And now there was this.
The wummin oan the middle stair,
Hit me wi' a cup.
He'd been walking home, and the kid crashed out of the window and landed in front of him. Only the third storey, but then this was only a child, 12 at the most. His head was bleeding, and-
Dear god in heaven, was his-
The child's left eye had been ripped out.
He looked up, and the young woman who'd been peering out from over the broken glass drew her head back quickly.
"Jardin!"
His partner broke down the door with two swift shoves, and started running up the stairs to try to catch her.
Jim knelt beside the kid, feeling desperately for a pulse.
"Call an ambulance!" he yelled franticly at the man who poked his head out the door to figure out what the commotion was.
Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky this wouldn't turn out to be a murder.
Ma heid's aw broken,
Ma eye's aw cut,
Murder, murder polis,
Three stairs up.
Murder, murder polis,
Three stairs up.
The trouble with nursery rhymes, Jim Taggart felt, was that they could give people ideas. Two of the kids on his street had been called Jack and Jill, for example. When they'd grown up, they'd gotten married. And then she'd pushed him off a cliff. He'd shattered his head on the rocks below and died immediately, and just as they'd caught up to her, she'd turned and thrown herself down a bunch of stairs. Snapped her neck as she tumbled down, and was taken off life-support three days later.
And now there was this.
The wummin oan the middle stair,
Hit me wi' a cup.
He'd been walking home, and the kid crashed out of the window and landed in front of him. Only the third storey, but then this was only a child, 12 at the most. His head was bleeding, and-
Dear god in heaven, was his-
The child's left eye had been ripped out.
He looked up, and the young woman who'd been peering out from over the broken glass drew her head back quickly.
"Jardin!"
His partner broke down the door with two swift shoves, and started running up the stairs to try to catch her.
Jim knelt beside the kid, feeling desperately for a pulse.
"Call an ambulance!" he yelled franticly at the man who poked his head out the door to figure out what the commotion was.
Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky this wouldn't turn out to be a murder.
Ma heid's aw broken,
Ma eye's aw cut,
Murder, murder polis,
Three stairs up.