When he felt able to focus again, Jack forced himself to concentrate on the victim’s clothing, which had been soaked through by a combination of blood and rain. Her coat, a Burberry if he wasn’t mistaken, was undone. Her dress had been sliced open from the neckline down to the hem, exposing her entire body, which had been hacked open in much the same fashion as the dress.
For some strange reason, the killer had modestly arranged the top sections of the dress to cover the woman’s breasts. In contrast, the bottom had been deliberately peeled back to ensure her genitalia was fully exposed. As with Tracey, there was no sign of her underwear, and this woman definitely did not strike him as the type to go native.
In another deviation from the first killing, there was no obvious sign of genital mutilation.
Dillon appeared behind him, placing a large hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Sam Calvin’s ready to start, Jack,” he said quietly, gazing down at the lifeless form on the floor.
“Good. Bring him over please, Dill.” Tyler spoke flatly, without taking his eyes from the body.
When Calvin arrived, he wasn’t alone. “Jack, this is Dr Andrew Mackintosh. He’s the same FME who attended the last one.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mackintosh said formally. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes and Tyler was warmed by the man’s obvious humanity.
“You’re the unfortunate man in charge of this dreadful case, I take it?” the doctor asked softly.
Jack offered his rubber-gloved hand. “DCI Tyler, but please, call me Jack.”
“Andrew Mackintosh. Most people call me Mack.”
Tyler indicated the figure sprawled on the floor in front of them.
“I understand that you examined the girl in Quaker Street, Mack. I think this is the work of the same killer. Unfortunately, I can’t get a pathologist down to examine her, so I could really do with a leg up. Anything you can give me would help.”
The doctor nodded sombrely, understanding Tyler’s needs all too well. “I’ll do what I can, Jack, but don’t expect too much at this stage,” he warned.
The examination was thorough. Jack was impressed by Mackintosh’s methodical approach. He stated his findings as he worked, seemingly unperturbed by their presence. “Tremendous force was used to cut the throat. The backbone is visible and the windpipe has been severed completely. I’m reluctant to commit myself without the benefit of an autopsy, as I’m sure you can appreciate….”
“But…?” Tyler encouraged.
“But I’m fairly confident this was done post-mortem. Even accounting for all the overnight rain, there is just too little blood.”
“Any theory on why he would slit her throat after she was already dead?” Jack asked Calvin. He was desperate to understand what made this killer tick. Calvin shook his head in disgust. “There’s no rational reason for it, not that I would expect this nutter to be well acquainted with rationality.”
“You can see that the eyes are missing, gouged out as opposed to being surgically removed,” Mackintosh, said continuing his examination, “whereas, her nose and ears have been cleanly sliced off.” The FME paused as if struck by a sudden thought. “I wonder,” he said, gently easing the victim’s mouth open and peering inside. “Well, well, well,” he declared.
“What?” Jack asked.
“The tongue has been cut out – or at least the front part of it.”
“What made you think for to check that,” Tyler asked, impressed.
Mackintosh gave a sad shrug. “I suddenly thought of the old adage: hear no evil; see no evil; speak no evil,” he replied.
“And the nose?” Calvin asked.
“I don’t know,” Mackintosh said. “Smell no evil, maybe?”
Jack shook his head. “More like don’t stick your nose where it’s not wanted,” he said, wondering if the facial carnage was the killer’s way of sending them a cryptic message.
Mackintosh started probing the torso; his hands unnaturally pale in white rubber gloves.
“My God,” Tyler gasped as the doctor peeled aside the top sections of the blood-drenched dress. Both breasts had been neatly sliced off. This was yet another disturbing deviation. Was the killer becoming more daring, the attacks more deranged as he grew in confidence? Was he experiencing a need to make each episode progressively more intense just to maintain the same thrill level?
Mackintosh said nothing as he stared up at the two policemen. The injuries spoke for themselves. There was no sign of the eyes, nose, tongue or the breasts in the immediate vicinity of the body. Dillon slipped away to organise an urgent search, making sure that it was done discreetly.
“The torso has been opened up from just below the ribs in a single, fairly neat cut, but until the pathologist has a poke around inside, we won’t know how much internal damage has been caused.”
“Do you think it was done here, Mack?” Jack asked.
The doctor gave the matter serious consideration. He looked around thoughtfully, taking his time before replying. “Very, very unlikely, I would say. He would have needed time to do all of this. A minimum of fifteen to twenty minutes, I reckon.”
Jack let out a low whistle. The rain would have driven most people off the streets, but even so, Jack couldn’t
