Prison Ward at Metro General Hospital

Metro General Hospital was one of the main medical centres in the Big City. It catered to the public, to the private, and even provided medical support for even law enforcement services. They had a wing dedicated to detaining prisoners, suspects, or convicts who had fallen ill or injured themselves. Each room were small and isolated, to maintain privacy and security of the prisoner from other inmates or criminal patients. The door was protected by a metal gate that could only be opened with a key card from a designated personnel, be it an officer or a specially trained nurse.

Room Nr-B2 was where Frank Tucker was kept. The man had a hospital gown as he lied on the thin white bed, his head propped up by the electric mattress on a 45 degree tilt. He had an oxygen mask on his face and all he could do was stare at the TV. It wasn’t on. Even with a remote sitting next to his lap, he made no effort to turn it on.

Beep.

The moment he heard the door click open, he bolted sitting up and pulled down his mask. Sergeant Leo and Constable McLamb entered, holding up a hand to stop Frank Tucker from jumping out of the bed. To make sure he got the picture, they also had hands on their holsters. Frank Tucker gulped and swung his legs back onto the bed. “O-Officer. Officer. I’m fine. Please, get a doctor to discharge me!”

Leo glared at Frank Tucker as he dragged two chairs from a corner. He placed them next to the patient’s bed and he sat down with his partner.

“Sir.” The husband gulped, folding his hands in begging prayer. “I-I really need to go. I-I have a lot of things to do a-and y-you all made a mistake!”

“Frank Tucker.” Leo spoke up and he pulled out a police tablet from McLamb’s hand. He dropped it on the side of the bed, opening several images of the corpse in pieces. The husband looked away with pursed lips and the sergeant pressed on. “Please take a closer look. Is this your wife?”

“...Wh...What are you saying, detective? O-of course it’s my wife. I-I saw her, at the morgue. You were there, right? Wh-why are you asking me this – now!?”

“I said, take a closer look.” Leo tapped the screen, making hard thumps. “Why aren’t you looking at the picture?”

“I-it’s a corpse!” Frank Tucker tried to glance at the photo, but ended up clenching his eye shut and pushing the tablet away. “Anyone would turn their guts inside out when they see one!”

McLamb fidgeted in his seat and cleared his throat. “You mention before, she was your wife for 20 years. Not something you can let go so suddenly. Also, we have yet to find the head and pelvic area to truly identify her. Other than the thumb print you provided, how did you recognize the body?”

“I-I told you right?” Frank Tucker slapped at the bedding. He wanted to hop out, but one glare from Leo made him rethink his move. “S-she had a surgical scar on her leg, and the birthmark on her back shoulder.”

McLamb then added. “And the tattoo?”

“Tat—”

Frank Tucker froze.

Leo leaned in and opened the image with the corpse’s arm on the police tablet. The image itself was high definition, 1080 px. Even when the sergeant zoomed in ridiculously close, everyone could clearly see the pores, folds, and markings on the skin. Around the shoulder area there was an evident patch of smooth skin, hairless. Naked eyes would miss it as the color was similar as the surrounding flesh tone, but there was a unique patch of smooth skin that had a unique shape. It resembled akin to a rose flower pattern with a swirling stem.

“The victim’s right arm had a tattoo.” Leo glanced at Frank Tucker as he went on. “It was lasered off by a professional, who boasted they can make any tattoo disappeared. We checked his files, he never had anyone by the name of Sarah Tucker look for him.”

McLamb then pulled out his phone and opened some pictures. They showed Sarah Tucker, very much alive and with several other peoples on a beach front. He placed his phone next to the police tablet and started to zoom into Sarah Tucker’s right arm multiple times, showing all possible angles and pictures. “This was taken in beginning of the month from an employee trip. No matter how you look at it, Mr. Tucker, it’s clear your wife never had a tattoo to begin with let alone have a need to remove one.”

“The surgery mark.” Leo changed his tablet’s photo to a scanned document. “This is a list of every women who had surgery for deep vein thrombosis in the past few years. When you came in to ‘confirm’ Sarah’s identity, we didn’t think of conducting an extensive search through hospital records – especially with very little identifying feature. We instead focus on catching the killer. In reality, Sarah Tucker’s name is clearly not on the list.”

Frank Tucker sealed his lips. The muscles in his jaws rippled. He rubbed his palms against the bedding and he started to do a slight rocking on the bed. Whenever he made eye contact with Leo and McLamb he ended up staring at the walls.

“I-I don’t understand, detectives. Y-your constable, Jenma, Janice? She told me, th-the one you found was my wife. DNA confirmed it, right? You can’t lie to DNA.”

Leo dragged his chair closer to the bed, slamming the feet into the ground with a CRACK. “Forensic confirmed, both thumbs shared the same DNA blood type. O negative. Given the fact it wasn’t a common blood type, we started to assume the thumb belonged to the body and went with what we got. Now, we had forensic do a deep check. They realized, the thumb’s DNA does not match the DNA of the corpse we found.”

Sweat formed on Frank Tucker’s forehead. All the color in his face slowly dripped away. Even so he tried to maintain his sitting posture. No longer begging, no longer crying. All he did was inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Small shudders. “The, uh, hnn.”

“Everything had been an illusion.” McLamb rummaged into his pocket, pulling out an evidence bag with strands of hair. “By the time Constable Jenny and Jackson went to your apartment, you already replaced any items containing your wife’s DNA with the hair strands of the corpse. When we started to match one thing after another, we would have assumed the thumb we found was also the same. Not to mention, with the added pressure of the media wanting us to stop a serial killer – we would have continued to overlook minor details in favor for a speedy resolution. All according to plan.”

“O-officer. L-listen. I-it’s a mi-mistake. I swear.”

“Mr. Tucker. Answer us.” Leo gritted his teeth. “Who is the woman in the morgue right now?”

“I, I don’t know, who—What you’re talk--” Frank Tucker reached up to grab his inhaler. A deep breath, a few pants, and he still couldn’t catch his air. This time, the detectives didn’t bother to pity him. “I honestly, have no idea wh-who is the woman wh-who I thought to be my, my--”

Leo gripped Frank Tucker by the collar. “The only people who would know about the corpse’s birthmark in such an intimate place would be her parents, boyfriend, lover, doctor, or the murderer who stripped her and chopped her into seven pieces. You have no kids; you’re already busy fooling around with an insurance broker; definitely no physician; so that leaves us only one option!”

“NO! WAIT! DETECTIVES! Y-YOU’RE MISTAKEN! I DIDN’T KILL ANYONE! NO ONE! I SWEAR! HONEST TO GOD! I DIDN’T DO IT!”

“THEN WHO!?” The sergeant rattled the suspect while McLamb gripped onto Leo’s arm to try and calm him down. “Someone has died and was turned into a jigsaw puzzle! Not only did you misuse her death to get your wife’s insurance money – YOU TOSSED HER NAKED BODY AROUND LIKE GARBAGE! SHE WAS A HUMAN BEING WHO HAD A FAMILY AND A LIFE! DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT!?”

“Leo! Wait, you’ll trigger his asthma again!” McLamb struggled to break them up. After a few push and shove, he was able to pry Frank Tucker to fumble on his bed and Leo seething in a corner. He let the silence sink in before he walked up to the bed. McLamb picked up his phone and sorted through his files. After tapping on one image, he played a video and showed it to Frank Tucker.

The raw footage of the viral video, featuring Felicia Harvey.

[Hello Felicia speaking—Oh hey Frankieeee. Heeeey. It’s been lonely without you for the last few nights. Surely the cops aren’t bothering you anymore. I’m in the mood, so can we like... What? Say that one more time. WHAT!? Y-you’re breaking up with me? Wh...You still love your wife? She’s dead – SHE’S DEAD! What? Are you gonna marry yourself to her ghost!? Th-this is our chance to be together, we don’t have to hide anything anymore. We can get married and.....Hello?...Hello?.....DAMN YOU FRANK TUCKER—AAAAAAH!]

The video ends with a scream as Felicia smashes her phone against the street light, shrapnel cutting up into her cheek.

Frank Tucker no longer had color in his face. He was a shallow and pale looking man who wished he stayed in a coma. Lips quivered, eyes squinted, tears welled up. He tried to make a sound, but only a small whining noise came out.

McLamb took in a deep breath, focusing, and asked, “Sarah Tucker is still alive. So. Where is she?”

The whimpering mess pulled up his knees to his chest. He started to hug it, rocking back and forth. The husband tried to find something to look at, to bring him out of this reality. Unable to find an escape, he ended up lying on his side with his back to the detectives and pulled covers up to hide his neck. “I-I can’t tell you.”

Leo marched over, but McLamb placed a hand on his chest to stop him. Instead, the constable came over with a soft step and quiet voice. “Mr. Tucker. No matter how much you wish to deny it, this isn’t a nightmare you can wake up from. Closing yourself off will not help you, neither will your silence do justice for the true victim in the morgue. I know you have a conscious. I know you still love Sarah Tucker. So please, tell us, where is your wife right now?”

Frank Tucker clung onto the covers on his bed. He started to cry, lips shaking as he tried not to make much of a sound. His head bowed in shame. “Sarah...Sarah is at--”

BEEP.

The door burst open, startling Leo and McLamb. They turned to see Constable Jackson panting at the doorway, his fedora gripped in one white-knuckled fist. “W-we found S-Sarah.”

“...Well?” Leo shrugged the confusion off his shoulder. “Where is she? You brought her back, right?”

Jackson inhaled, and held it in for a moment. “...About that.”