All Stories, General Fiction

Death Misspelled by David Robinson

The body was still in the house when we got there.  Graciela saw it first and let out a sharp, “Dios mio!”  She was the most senior local employee at the Consulate and had seen Americans in trouble before, but none as distressed as George McMahon.  He was lying on a thin mattress on the concrete floor of his living room.  A machete was planted in his abdomen, just below the breastbone.  It had been put there by his girlfriend, according to the police, but they also said he was at the morgue.

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