A hornet's nest

       — What? — Elvis asked. — Estás bromeando.        — Here, — Victor took a walkie-talkie out of his backpack and, setting it to the desired power, handed it to his friend. — Listen to.       — Huntsman Clark found a head in the woods! — The hoarse voice of young intern Lee Holt sounded from the walkie-talkie. The guy in his twenties was clearly agitated — he was taken to the crime scene for the first time, but the information he passed on to Captain Brian Scritcher was very shocking.        — Amazing, — said a man in the prime of life, who lost his beloved wife two years ago and lives with a naughty teenage son. The tone of his voice, as usual, remained calm, as if he had just been told not about the severed head of a child, but about a multimillion-dollar prize. — Is there something else, Lee?        — Well, the old man found more than one head… And it’s already five.        — And where is it anyway, why don’t you really tell me anything? — Brian got into the police car and turned the lock key. He turned the mirror on himself and, peering at his reflection, smoothed his English moustache.        — Mm, — the guy drawled, hesitating, — you know, not far from Epiosia, about forty miles away, there is a children’s science camp… There is a forest around it and small villages nearby.        — You mean the heads of non-native children?        — Yes, the children are clearly from the city, and Clark said that they don’t have much children in the village, some old men and old women, the rest went to the city to work! — Lee scratched his head. — In general, we cordoned off everything here, well, how did we do it, I did it alone, today Mr. Thomas Ortiz is not in a good mood, he was slightly seasick on the trip… — the intern turned around, a heavyset middle-aged man was standing under a tree with cancer, he was vomiting.        — How many children were in the camp? Where are the bodies? Where are the camp staff, the director, and the teachers? — Scritcher started asking questions one by one. The car was driving quietly along the road, heading for the exit from Epiosia.        — Oh, they assigned it to me! — Lee Holt said importantly.        — So what the hell are you talking about? Go to work!        — Yes, sir Mr. Brian Scritcher!        — My God… — the man breathed out, waiting for the moment when the intern turned off the radio. — They’ll take pieces of shit instead of normal workers, and I’ll clean up…       Brian looked thoughtfully at his hands, but returned his gaze to the road, not enough to get into an accident. He was lost in thought, tuning up the radio. “Starting over” was playing. Scritcher lit a Malboro, hastily flicking the ashes out the window.       Vic was talking about a friend… Jeff? Yes, Vic’s friend’s name is Jeff. He went to this science camp.… What did Vic say?       Oh my God! Jeff has traded “Slackers” for scientific losers!       And how do I tell him about it? And how will he react? He still cries in his mother’s room at night… I know.                                                                         ***        — Holy shit, — Brian said, and lit another cigarette.       Other cops: Lee Holt, a young boy, he was accepted for an executive term that lasts for over a year and a half, Thomas Ortiz, from the sight and smell of whose blood he was endlessly sickened, but his father said “If you, Tomi, will not be a cop, you will not cross the threshold of this house anymore and this woman (he he nodded his head in the direction of a short, plump lady with a cascade haircut) you will never see it again! Do you understand me, Tomi?”, criminologist Michael Silver, also a middle-aged man, but older than Brian Scritcher, Mike is 10 years old and retired, to raise grandchildren, and another intern, taken on indefinite probation, which, it seems, can last forever until Silver retires… Her name is Tina Wyatt. Yes, yes, a girl who had just graduated from college and passed special training for a solid four was taken to the police, for an indefinite probation period, of course, but they took it! And at this time it was a rarity…       But Tina was not an ordinary girl, even Brian Scritcher himself used to say that (when he was drunk in the ass)! She, unlike other more mature and experienced men, was not afraid of anything, well, perhaps one of her fears was going outside with a dirty head, but Tina easily overcame it — she got up every day at five in the morning, slowly prepared her morning coffee, drank it for another 20 minutes sitting on the balcony with a fashion magazine in her hands, envying Jerry Hall, who by the age of twenty managed to achieve a lot, well, at least the role of Alicia Hunt in Tim Burton’s “Batman” was already considered the peak of success in the eyes of young Tina, and then, having performed the morning coffee ceremony, the girl went to the bathroom with a calm soul and washed in the same way as ordinary people.       Of course, Tina wasn’t a Parisian supermodel or a Hollywood actress, but she had a pretty face. Not too sharp facial features, for example, like Iman, not as pale skin as Anna Beil, but Tina didn’t care what kind of porn actresses attracted her guys (although the above-listed persons were not porn actresses, but the girl often left her guys because of their private viewing of videos containing a slightly non-childish character, and, as Tina thought, it was ugly when with a live girl the guy is watching porn anyway). And Tina herself was very good, both in appearance and figure.       She has been involved in sports since she was a little girl, she always dreamed of working in the police and serving America, but she believed that she would do it not from Kentucky, but from some Florida. Before Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt divorced (Mrs. Wyatt caught her husband tumbling with her sister, Miss Pitt, an unemployed, unmarried thirty-year-old bitch woman living with her older sister), they lived in sunny Florida. But her mother refused Tina, thinking that she looked too much like her father, and therefore life threw a seven-year-old girl with two crooked pigtails to Kentucky, to the not very good city of Epiosia, leaving her without a normal education. “Well, there is a law college, so we’re lucky, Daddy!” said little Tina on her first day in a new city. That’s just daddy, after just six months of spending time in Epiosia, stopped playing any role in his daughter’s life.       An under-fucked old man in a drunken frenzy and a fit of rage began to blame Tina for all his troubles (including the fact that his mother left because of her, and not because he periodically fucked his wife’s sister while she was working hard at work and dragged the whole family on herself) and raped her, then put her on the threshold My daughter is at home with the words “Go wherever you want, but don’t come back here,” and Tina left. But in the morning she returned with the guardianship authorities.       In general, the other cops cordoned off the area and waited for the arrival of the chief, not knowing what to do next.        — What the fuck? — Brian spoke again, but his voice remained calm, even when the man was standing in front of a bunch of children’s heads. It was one of the most unpleasant peculiar landscapes that Scritcher had ever seen, and he had seen a lot in 30 years of work in the police. But the severed heads of children with rolled-up, half-closed eyes and frozen forever grimaces of the wildest horror were by no means the most pleasant sight. Any other person would have vomited on the spot or burst into tears, starting to feel sorry for the poor children (from 7 to 18 years old), why did they get such a fate… Maybe Brian felt sorry for them, even though he didn’t know how, or if he did, he carefully hid it. Scritcher is not one of those people who has a sense of guilt or grief (his wife is forty-three-year-old Mrs. Scritcher, who passed away two years earlier from an incurable congenital disease (doctors gave her a term of about 30 years at birth, but she did not have bad habits and led a healthy lifestyle associated with daily physical exertion, which helped her to live longer than the specified period) — was a small exception). — Well? — He lit another cigarette. — Would anyone care to explain anything to me? Where are the bodies, let’s start with this?        — The dog handlers are looking for… — intern Lee Holt replied.        — Well, they’re looking, so let them look…        — Can I tell you? — criminologist Michael Silver stretched out his wrinkled hand softly, grunting, as if he were in a math lesson, and he, having not learned his homework, was afraid to ask the teacher about a new topic that the boy did not quite understand.        — Yes, Mr. Silver? — although the criminologist was on behalf of Scritcher, the man treated him with respect due to his age.        — That’s how I examined the heads… And he realized that death had occurred before their separation from the body.       — You mean?        — Not only did you work here… uh… so to speak, a lumberjack, but also a chemist at heart… I mean, death was caused by some kind of toxic substance, I can’t say for sure, we need bodies, well, children’s lungs to look at… But I can tell you for sure at the station.        — No problem, — Brian shrugged. They went outside and the man looked around. — It’s strange… The bus is still standing. They’ve just arrived, haven’t they?        — Yes, — Lee drawled. — This can only mean one thing, there are many murderers and they have carefully prepared for mass genocide…        — This is not genocide, Holt, — Tina Wyatt said. — Most of the children are white, five black people at most. In Epiosia, of course, Negroes used to be disliked, but it was the same everywhere.        — Well? Are there any other signs? And what about religions? Jews, maybe?        — No.        — Then I have no idea what the bastard’s motive is! — The guy spread his hands.        — The murder was planned for months… — the habit of smoking when something bad happens, Scritcher appeared after the death of his wife, he lit up again. — Do you know what I think? They were poisoned on the bus, — the man entered the driver’s cabin. An elderly man with a frail build sat at the wheel with his head resting on the steering wheel. — Do you see?        — Yes… but that can’t mean that the killer was traveling with them, can it?        — The killer was traveling with them.        — But… how did it happen? — Lee Holt’s jaw dropped, and Tina lifted it, covering the intern’s mouth.        — It could be one of the escorts, — the girl replied. — Perhaps her “friend” was also traveling with the escort. Perhaps they picked up someone along the way with a request to take him to the village, if this version is correct, then he knew that the bus would be at that place and at that time.        — But from where? And why are you so sure that he did it?        — Women are not like that, they wouldn’t have the guts to kill children.        — Are you sure? — Brian asked.        — Absolutely, although my aunt could. But there are few such soulless and cold women.        — Don’t you think it’s strange that the corpses were found so quickly, well, the heads?        — That bastard did it on purpose! I bet 100 bucks that it was all on purpose, he wants fame and to be feared!        — Calm down, Holt, — Tina said. She came closer to the driver and gently lifted his head. There were traces of dried foam on the man’s chin. She lowered it and looked around. — Did the kids have foam, Mr. Silver?       — No… — the old man replied.        — The driver was spiked with something in the coffee, — the girl picked up a cup standing next to the driver and sniffed. — Mr. Silver, take it for analysis!       — What do you think, Tina?        — So, of course, this is just a theory… But somehow, as soon as they picked up a man, that man pretended to drop something, bent down and poured poison into the driver’s cup… When the poison took effect, they crashed into a tree — Tina ran out of the bus, the others got out after her. — Do you see? There is a dent on the front. The man said that everything was fine, and he put on a gas mask, probably also turned on the music so as not to hear the heart-rending cries for help, closed all the doors and windows and set fire to a bomb with toxic substances, calmly got behind the wheel and quickly drove towards the camp. By that time, the children’s lungs were sufficiently saturated with chemicals, and on the spot he cut off their heads, scattered them in the forest and someone took him away by car.        — That’s the story, but there are no traces of the presence of the second car, firstly, and secondly, where did the bodies go? Thirdly, why didn’t anyone try to knock out the killer?        — I’m telling you, most of the children on the bus were children, children in critical situations huddle in a corner, crying and praying. There were also two escorts, I think they are also women, and therefore they also huddled in a corner, crying and praying.        — And if there was a male escort?       — Uh, he was knocked out with a fire extinguisher.        — Okay.…        — Bodies! We found the bodies! — Thomas Ortiz was running joyfully towards them.       — Where? — everyone turned around in unison.       — They were buried behind the camp!       — Oh, God, give me strength… — said Brian Scritcher and lit another cigarette.