Harry Ribb rarely went out to a crime scene the moment it was discovered, but this one had caused such a buzz at the station he found it difficult not to see it for himself. In fact, everyone who was called to the scene turned up in record time.

  Ribb had changed into white protective overalls before he entered the building. Inside, the apartment was large and modern, with first-class antique cabinets and furniture throughout. The owner had exceptional and expensive taste, he thought.

  The drinks cabinet was the centerpiece of the tastefully decorated living room. Behind the Bowmore whiskey was a large dark Brown wood casing that normally housed the bottle. Next to it was a very ordinary looking bottle of whiskey, with the label Royal Blakla 1924.

  Bakker, looking unusually hygienic in his white overalls, and hair tucked under the white hood, came out of the kitchen and went straight to Ribb.

  "The victim is Mr. Raemon Dort." Bakker told Ribb. "He's in the bathroom. He did something in finance, we don't exactly know what right now, but we are on to it. The cleaner who found him was not in any state to tell us anything. She's suffering from severe shock. There is a girl on the answering machine who sounds like a girlfriend he fell out with. We know where she lives and have sent someone around to talk to her. Unfortunately, thanks to the cleaner, the apartment was spotless. She wiped down everything before she entered the bathroom, so I don't think we'll find any prints."

  "Okay, let's see the body," Ribb said, sounding a little impatient.

  "Well?' Bakker scratched his scraggy hair through the white hood. "That's the problem?." He paused, trying to think of the right word. "It's? not exactly a body."

  "What is it? A leg, torso? Head?"

  "Well, it's the whole body? but different." Bakker said, with a puzzled look on his face, then finally decided to lead the way into the bathroom.

  The pathologist Jim Conver was on his knees and in the process of dipping a large syringe into the liquid in the bathtub. As Harry Ribb entered, he could do nothing except stare down at the figure of the body lying in the bath.

  "What the hell?" He said, in a near whisper, and bent down to get a closer look. Usually he would expect a body, even part of a body, but this was nothing like he had ever seen before. This was more of a substance than a body.

  "Is it real?" Ribb said quietly, "or is this a joke. If this is a joke, it's one of the best I have ever seen."

  "That's what I thought, a joke," Conver replied while trying to concentrate on the syringe. "But the more I look at it the stranger it gets, and yes, I think it's real."

  "It's creepy, that's what it is." Ribb said.

  Conver finally filled the syringe with a mixture of pink and red liquid.

  "The only thing that seems real is his hair," he said, holding the syringe up to the light.

  Ribb leaned over the bath and hovered directly over Dort. He reached out and touched the dark brown hair.

  "You're right. It looks and feels real - but the rest of it?. Ehm? him? What is it?

  "I have no idea whatsoever." Conver replied, and took a fresh syringe from his medical case. "But from what I can make out 98% of the body has become fluid. Luckily the water held it in suspension, nothing has been distorted or disturbed. It's the weirdest thing?." he said, then fell silent.

  "It's like one of those pictures they put on birthday cakes these days." Ribb mused. "I suppose you're now going to tell me he was never sick before, and up to yesterday he was a three-dimensional character."

  "Very funny," Conver replied, as he started collecting more contents of the body into the syringe. "My biggest problem is how are we going to get the body back to the lab?"

  "Suck it up?" Bakker said, once again scratching his head.

  "Sure, and suck away the evidence," Conver replied.

  "Well at least nobody pulled the plug on this one," Bakker remarked.

  "Is that meant to be funny?" Conver said.

  "No, I'm serious," Bakker replied, now scratching the other side of his head through the white overalls.

  Ribb picked up a back scrubber with a long wooden handle and dipped it very gently into the image of Raemon Dort. The image was definitely fluid. It was as if a giant computer printer had sprayed the image into the bath water, clear and perfect, with only the hair remaining at the top where his head had been.

  "Any ideas on how something like this could happen?" Ribb asked.

  "I've never heard or seen anything like this before, and I've seen a lot of strange stuff during the last twenty years. If it was hydrofluoric acid, it would never have left this type of image, and I cannot think of any other chemical that could do this to a body. We need to run a mountain of tests on this. Something tells me it's not going to be easy. Anyway, I'll see what I can do. I'll keep you informed."

  "Well," said Ribb, rubbing his brow. "And before you get your results, we are stuck with this conundrum. This is definitely a first."

  "I've taken enough samples," Conver said, then stood up. He stared down at the image. "You've got your problems Harry, and I've got mine. I only have to try and figure out a way to get the body out of here in one piece."

  Chapter Twelve