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Bloody Bones :: Гамильтон Лорел
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He shook hishead. "They don't want John."
I finished the last of my coffee. "Who's they?"
"Beadle, Beadle, Stirling, and Lowenstein."
"A law firm," I said.
He nodded.
"No more games, Bert. Just tell me what the hell's going on."
"Beadle, Beadle, Stirling, and Lowenstein have some clients building a very plush resort in the mountains near Branson. A very exclusive resort. A place where the wealthy country stars that don't own a house in the area can go to get away from the crowds. Millions of dollars are at stake."
"What's the old cemetery have to do with it?"
"The land they're building on was in dispute between two families. The courts decided the Kellys owned the land, and they were paid a great deal of money. The Bouvier family claimed it was their land and there was a family plot on it to prove it. No one could find the cemetery."
Ah. "They found it," I said.
"They found an old cemetery, but not necessarily the Bouvier family plot."
"So they want to raise the dead and ask who they are?"
"Exactly."
I shrugged. "I can raise a couple of the corpses in the coffins. Ask who they are. What happens if their last name is Bouvier?"
"They have to buy the land a second time. They think some of the corpses are Bouviers. That's why they want all the bodies raised."
I raised my eyebrows. "You're joking."
He shook his head, looking pleased. "Can you do it?"
"I don't know. Give me the pictures again." I set my coffee mug on his desk and took the pictures back. "Bert, they've screwed this six ways to Sunday. It's a mass grave, thanks to the bulldozers. The bones are all mixed together. I've only read about one case of anyone raising a zombie from a mass grave. But they were calling a specific person. They had a name." I shook my head. "Without a name it may not be possible."
"Would you be willing to try?"
I spread the pictures over the desk, staring at them. The top half of a skull had turned upside down like a bowl. Two finger bones attached by something dry and desiccated that must once had been human tissue lay next to it. Bones, bones everywhere but not a name to speak.
Could I do it? I honestly didn't know. Did I want to try? Yeah. I did.
"I'd be willing to try."
"Wonderful."
"Raising them a few every night is going to take weeks, even if I can do it. With John's help it would be quicker."
"It will cost them millions to delay that long," Bert said.
"There's no other way to do it.
He shook hishead. "They don't want John."
I finished the last of my coffee. "Who's they?"
"Beadle, Beadle, Stirling, and Lowenstein."
"A law firm," I said.
He nodded.
"No more games, Bert. Just tell me what the hell's going on."
"Beadle, Beadle, Stirling, and Lowenstein have some clients building a very plush resort in the mountains near Branson. A very exclusive resort. A place where the wealthy country stars that don't own a house in the area can go to get away from the crowds. Millions of dollars are at stake."
"What's the old cemetery have to do with it?"
"The land they're building on was in dispute between two families. The courts decided the Kellys owned the land, and they were paid a great deal of money. The Bouvier family claimed it was their land and there was a family plot on it to prove it. No one could find the cemetery."
Ah. "They found it," I said.
"They found an old cemetery, but not necessarily the Bouvier family plot."
"So they want to raise the dead and ask who they are?"
"Exactly."
I shrugged. "I can raise a couple of the corpses in the coffins. Ask who they are. What happens if their last name is Bouvier?"
"They have to buy the land a second time. They think some of the corpses are Bouviers. That's why they want all the bodies raised."
I raised my eyebrows. "You're joking."
He shook his head, looking pleased. "Can you do it?"
"I don't know. Give me the pictures again." I set my coffee mug on his desk and took the pictures back. "Bert, they've screwed this six ways to Sunday. It's a mass grave, thanks to the bulldozers. The bones are all mixed together. I've only read about one case of anyone raising a zombie from a mass grave. But they were calling a specific person. They had a name." I shook my head. "Without a name it may not be possible."
"Would you be willing to try?"
I spread the pictures over the desk, staring at them. The top half of a skull had turned upside down like a bowl. Two finger bones attached by something dry and desiccated that must once had been human tissue lay next to it. Bones, bones everywhere but not a name to speak.
Could I do it? I honestly didn't know. Did I want to try? Yeah. I did.
"I'd be willing to try."
"Wonderful."
"Raising them a few every night is going to take weeks, even if I can do it. With John's help it would be quicker."
"It will cost them millions to delay that long," Bert said.
"There's no other way to do it.