“I’d say so.” Emerson rubbed at his temples. “But buggered if I can work out what it is. Too tired—exhaustion’s just come over me all of a sudden.” He grinned as Burgess gave him a sidelong look. “There’ll be a link somewhere, I’m sure. And on that note…” He brought his watch up to his face. “By the time I’ve had a lovely coffee at the station and typed up my notes for you, it’ll be me going off home.”
“See you soon,” Burgess said. “Enjoy the coffee.”
“Oh, I bloody will.”
Emerson left with the silent Flemmings in tow, and Shaw came out from behind Burgess to hand an open evidence bag to Marla. She popped the moth inside, and while she secured the bag, Burgess took a photo of it on his phone then grabbed the chance to scan the rest of the area.
The canal path was tarmac, so no footprints there, and the banks either side of it didn’t seem to have had anyone trampling the grass down. The only trodden area was around the body, and Emerson had said photographs had been taken already, before any coppers or Marla had walked on it, plus it had been checked for evidence. Nothing found. No surprise there, considering the alley had also been clear.
The swoosh of the tent cover going over the erected frame drew his attention back to the victim. The torch lit up the interior, and Burgess was more at ease now the body was hidden from the row of houses and anyone in them.
“Can you do me a favour and check inside his trousers?” he asked Marla and turned to make sure the tent flaps were closed behind them. “That stain is bothering me. Seems too dark for piss.”
Marla placed the evidence bag on top of her instrument case. “Doesn’t smell like urine. I hope this doesn’t go the way I’m thinking it’ll go.”
“Hmm.” Burgess waited while she undid the man’s zip then popped the button out of the hole.
“No underpants,” she said. “Which doesn’t surprise me—he looks homeless. Hardly a must-have accessory for the poor sod if he was.” She sighed and pulled back the material. “Oh.”
Shaw clamped a hand over his mask in the mouth area.
“Blood, not urine then.” Burgess stared at the dried redness on the skin just above the man’s pubic hair. “And farther down?”
“Do you really need to see?” Marla asked.
“No, I don’t suppose I do.”
“Absence of a penis,” she said. “That puts a different light on it, doesn’t it.”
Burgess nodded, his stomach cramping and, nauseated, he shifted his gaze away. Marla folded the material back over the victim’s…lack of a private part.
“So Anita wasn’t sexually assaulted yet the man was?” he mused.
“Might not be a sexual assault in the sense you mean. Butchered, more like.” Shaw lowered his hand.
“Like Shaw said, not necessarily sexual.” Marla cringed. “It seems more of a rage thing, the way it’s been, um, hacked at.”
“Jesus Christ, the poor bloke.” Shaw rolled his shoulders. “Before death?”
Marla tilted her head. “No, I wouldn’t say so. Not enough blood. Perhaps immediately after. Cut off at this scene, too, I’d say. It’s…um…it’s still there in his trousers, the penis, just not attached.”
Burgess fought the urge to clutch at his own and protect it. “Right, um… Right. Can you check in his hairline for me? See if there’s another needle hole?”
Marla secured the man’s trousers again, switched to a clean pair of gloves, then pushed him onto his side so she could search for what Burgess wanted, using her magnifying glass.
He looked at Shaw. “What the fucking hell have we got here?”
Shaw shrugged. “No idea. It’s usually the women who are mutilated like that. And if these two people are linked somehow, as in, knowing each other… I can’t see that, can you? Unless Anita helped out unfortunates or something in her spare time. He doesn’t look the type she’d hang out with in her personal life. Professional female, trampy male. She was naked, he isn’t. Thing in one mouth, moth in the other. Are these cases really related?”
“Yes,” Marla said. “Seems they are. Needle hole found.”
Burgess shook his head in despair. None of this was making sense. Why would a killer choose two totally different people? And did he know the male victim like he’d known Anita? Or was this murder random? Had the male victim seen the killer putting Anita in the alley, was that it?
“I’m at a loss. I need to think about this for a bit,” Burgess said. “We need to see if any of the streets around here have CCTV. And we’ll be bloody lucky if they do.”
“This is the same as the female victim,” Marla said. “No evidence of strangulation et cetera. I’m willing to bet he’s got heroin in his system. Overdose. Of course, you’ll have my final assessment once I’ve had a chance to do the postmortem. Probably get back to you before your shift ends later if nothing more pressing is waiting for me back at the hospital.”
“What could be more pressing than a murder?” Burgess asked.
“Another murder?” Marla raised her eyebrows. “I don’t just deal with this kind, you know. People die in hospital, in their homes, and not all from natural causes. But if that’s a prompt for me to get this body seen to first, I’ll try my best. I’ll just have to call King in if I have a waiting list at the morgue and he’s been lazy overnight.” She stood. “And that’s a bitch because, you know, it’s King.”
“Yeah, I know.” Burgess hated the arrogant prick. He’d hurt Marla in the past when they’d been in a relationship, and it took every bit of professionalism in Burgess not to lump the bloke each time he
