As his grogginess slowly dispersed, the first thing he noticed was that his wife, Melanie, had neatly rolled herself up in all of the blankets and left him shivering with nothing but a sheet. The second thing that entered his consciousness was the ringing of the telephone, relentless and annoying. He glanced out the window, saw that the sun had not yet begun to peep over Oxford’s Bridge of Sighs, grunted, and answered the phone. “Professor Macauley?” came Hollister’s voice from the other end, a slight crackle of static on the line because it was long-distance. “Hollister? Do you know what time it is?” “I’m sorry it’s so early, but I’ve found a body.” David went silent for a moment, allowing the words to fully sink in. “What kind of condition is it in?” “Perfect. You should see it. The flesh around the neck and chest has disintegrated a little, but other than that she looks as if she died yesterday.”
