MATTEO’S POV
Alfredo. Dead. A supposed suicide. It didn’t add up.
Alfredo was anything but he wasn’t a chicken head that would deliberately kill himself over a prison time. He would rather serve time and come out to continue his supposed revenge than die like a chicken.
Anthony and I walked behind an attendant and a doctor who led the way into the morgue in the prison where the bodies are kept till consumed by the family of the deceased. “He’s he is.” The attendant says stopping in front of the freezer used to store the bodies before pulling it out for us to examine.
Stepping closer to take a closer look, his face was totally disfigured almost to the point of no recognition. A burn? Did he set himself on fire? Why wasn’t this said over the phone before we got here?
Dr. Hughes, the forensic pathologist, gestured toward the covered body on the steel table. “We received him early this morning. The official report states self-immolation inside his cell. Burned beyond recognition.”
My jaw tightened. “How did he set himself on fire in a controlled prison environment?”
Hughes adjusted his glasses. “Preliminary reports suggest a smuggled flammable substance. A crude but effective method.”
Anthony scoffed. “And no one thought it was odd that a high-profile inmate suddenly had access to something that could burn him alive? Can you make this make sense?”
The officer who had just joined us, Dawson, cleared his throat. “It’s under investigation, Sir Rocco.”
I stepped forward. “Uncover him fully I need to check something.”
Hughes hesitated before pulling the sheet back. Anthony kept his face impassive as he stared at the charred body. The skin was completely burned, blackened, peeling in some areas, melted in others. The face was unrecognizable. But my focus wasn’t on that.
“Turn him over.”
Dawson frowned. “Sir?”
“Turn the damn body over,” I thundered at him.
With some effort, Hughes and Dawson carefully turned the corpse. My gaze swept over the back it was barely burnt like the other parts of his body but something was missing. Exhaling sharply. “Where’s his tattoo?”
Dawson blinked. “Tattoo?”
I balled my hands curled into a fist. “Alfredo had a tattoo on his left arm, a dragon tattoo. He also had a phoenix tattoo It covered nearly half of his back.” I pointed to the unmarked, burned but strangely bare skin. “There’s nothing here.”
Hughes sighed. ” Sir Matteo, the burns…”
“The burns don’t explain this,” I cut him off. “Even with severe burns, traces of ink remain embedded in the dermis. And Alfredo’s tattoo was deep. Or do you want to tell me he took off his tattoos in the prison?”
Dawson shifted uncomfortably. “You think this isn’t Alfredo?”
“I know it’s not,” I told him with finality. My mind began to race with many possibilities of what could have happened and I took a glance at Anthony who was looking at me…could it be? I raised a questioning look at him and his face told me we had the same thoughts.
Fuck!
Dawson ran a hand down his face. “So what, you think someone switched him?”
Anthony exhaled. “Tell me, when was the last time Alfredo was seen alive?”
Dawson hesitated. “He stopped coming out for meals for about two weeks. The guards assumed he was isolating.”
My eyes narrowed at him. “You assumed. And no one checked?” Is he even listening to the bullshit he’s spewing ?
“The guards reported that he refused food, but nothing seemed off,” Dawson defended. “Then this happened.”
“He didn’t get out of his cell but somewhat had access to fire or whatever the fuck he used to burn himself in a prison cell? Are you fucking with me ?” I asked him and Dawson looked like he was ready to piss himself as he passed looks to the Hughes and officer.
My mind worked even faster. Alfredo had been laying low for a reason before he started looking for a means to escape prison time. And now, conveniently, he was dead? A body burned beyond recognition conveniently showed up under his name?
I shook my head trying to figure out what to do. “I want a DNA test.”
Doctor Hughes sighed. “Sir Matteo, with the level of burns…”
“Don’t patronize me.” My voice was steel. “You can extract DNA from bone marrow, from teeth. Burned or not, there’s a way.”
Hughes pursed his lips before nodding. “It’ll take a few days.”
“I don’t care how long it takes. Do it.” I glanced back at the body. “Because I don’t believe for a second that this is Alfredo.”
Dawson rubbed his temples. “You’re saying he faked his death?”
Anthony crossed his arms before answering him. “No. We’re saying someone orchestrated this, and you all fell for it.”
Dawson exhaled. “Damn it.”
Turning to face Dawson fully. “In the meantime, I want access to all security footage from his block. Every visitor log. Every damn meal delivery if any. And more importantly, search this entire prison. If he’s out of here by chance, I promise you, your jobs will be out of the window as well.”
Dawson gulped with fear and nodded. “I’ll get you clearance.”
Taking one last look at the corpse before walking toward the exit, my gut told him the truth which I wasn’t ready to face. Alfredo wasn’t dead.
If he was working with someone… whoever was pulling the strings had just made a grave mistake.