67
: The blood was warm.
Poole pressed his index finger against Diener’s neck, already knowing what he’d find but compelled to check anyway. One of Diener’s lifeless eyes watched him, staring out from a narrow slit. The left eye had been removed, leaving a black void. Diener’s left ear and tongue were also missing.
Bishop had punctured the retromandibular just under Diener’s chin, then sliced with a downward motion, opening the vein. Diener’s hand and arm were covered in blood. He’d apparently tried to stem the flow, but the effort proved futile. Most likely, he had bled out in under a minute.
Poole could see the butt of Diener’s gun still secured in his shoulder holster. Bishop somehow surprised him—no time to retrieve the weapon. Diener probably heard the front door and assumed it was Poole returning.
There was little blood at the missing ear and eye, suggesting they had been removed post mortem.
Poole didn’t have much trouble finding these missing appendages.
Portions of the graffiti had been cut out of the drywall, four squares in all. Bishop had cut out the poems written in black marker and placed Diener’s eye, ear, and tongue in three of the four dark openings.
Poole’s heart thudded wildly in his chest, and the bump at the back of his neck ached. He bent back over and searched Diener’s body for his phone.
Gone.
When he stood back up, the sudden movement caused his balance to falter. He reached for the wall, his fingers feeling the dirty grit of it.
Ten minutes would pass before he’d find the strength to get to the house next door and call for help.