‘Yes, sir,’ the inspector said sheepishly and scuttled off to organize the search teams.
Moran looked anxiously at Gibbs. ‘The press will be all over this by morning. I want as much done as possible at the scene before they turn up in their droves fishing for information. Searching the bin bags for any other human remains is the priority.’
‘No doubt the headlines will say the Murder Mile Killer has struck again,’ Gibbs added.
‘We don’t know for sure if this is linked to the other murders. The forearm could be a man’s,’ Moran said, but he didn’t sound very convincing.
‘This murder could have happened before Lang went on the run,’ Gibbs suggested. He turned to Lawrence. ‘How long ago do you think the body was cut up?’
‘Hard to tell. It doesn’t look that decomposed, but if it was in a bag on the exterior of the pile, the cold might have preserved it. Professor Martin will be able to give you a better time frame.’
Moran held a hand up to get their attention. ‘Look, we keep this in-house for as long as possible and say we’re looking for a murder weapon after an anonymous tip. And tell the man who found the forearm it wasn’t human, just a bit of pig.’
Jane and Lawrence exchanged glances. Moran was clearly desperate to avoid further damaging press coverage, but no one argued with him.
‘Seeing as we’re going to get covered in shit, is there any chance someone could bring down some overalls and gloves?’ Edwards asked.
Moran shook his head. ‘Not at this time of night.’
‘I’ve got a box of latex gloves in the car,’ Lawrence offered.
‘If you find any other body parts, tell Lawrence. He can look at them and make sure they’re discreetly placed in clean black bin bags for removal to the mortuary.’
Lawrence followed up on Moran’s order. ‘Preserve the original bin bag and contents for fingerprinting. There could be an old envelope with an address on it, or other paper stuff we can fingerprint that will lead us to whoever is responsible.’
Moran patted Lawrence on the back. ‘I’m glad you’re one of us, Paul, ’cause someone with your knowledge could get away with murder.’
‘What the fuck!’ Edwards shouted.
Everyone swiveled in his direction, then turned to look where he was staring.
‘There, over there! That fox has something big in its bloody mouth.’ Edwards pointed, then started running. ‘Drop it, you mangy animal,’ he shouted, but the fox only looked up and casually sauntered off. As Edwards chased it, his shoe slipped off. ‘Stop! Do you hear me? Stop, I’m a police officer!’ He picked up his shoe and threw it, hitting the fox and causing it to drop whatever was in its mouth. The fox looked at Edwards, picked up his shoe in its mouth and quickly disappeared into a wooded area of the park.
Everyone was trying not to laugh as Edwards limped back through the damp grass.
‘Did you see that? The bastard nicked my shoe!’ he moaned.
‘That fox simply has no respect for the law.’ Lawrence grinned.
Gibbs started laughing. ‘The fox will probably take it down the charity shop in the morning. What was in its mouth, anyway?’
‘Looks like a hand, or what’s left of it.’ Edwards handed it to Lawrence in the handkerchief he’d used to pick it up.
‘The other hand must be around here somewhere,’ Gibbs said.
‘Not if the victim’s Captain Hook,’ Edwards joked.
‘Shut up, Edwards. I’ve had enough of your stupid jokes,’ Moran snapped.
‘We might be able to identify the victim from fingerprints on the hand,’ Jane suggested.
Paul shone his torch on it. It was a left hand, but the fingers and thumb had been chewed down to the knuckle, making fingerprinting impossible.
Lawrence put the hand in a plastic property bag. ‘There could be more than one dismembered body hidden in this rubbish.’
Moran looked downcast. ‘Then start searching. I need to inform DCS Blake. I’ll be back at the station if you need me.’
Jane looked at the huge pile of rubbish as Moran trudged off wearily. This certainly wasn’t how she’d expected her evening to turn out.
Within an hour there were nearly fifty uniform officers and detectives methodically searching the piles of rubbish, using high-powered torches and arc lights. There were muttered complaints about the stench and the cold, but Gibbs told them to shut up and get on with it, as the harder they worked, the quicker they’d get through the pile and the sooner they’d get home for a bath or a shower. Jane felt herself retching at the foul smell of rotting food and other household rubbish like soiled nappies, but agreed with Gibbs.
It wasn’t long before their work started to pay off. By 2 a.m. they had found two upper arms, a thigh and a size 10 left foot in three separate bags. Edwards, who was searching next to her, called out to DS Lawrence that he’d found something in a bin bag. As Lawrence approached, Edwards pulled a lower leg out of a bin bag and held it up.
‘It’s quite hairy and as the foot was size 10 it must be a man that’s been murdered and cut up,’ Edwards declared.
‘Probably,’ Lawrence replied. ‘But not all women shave their legs, and I can’t say if any of the parts are from the same body yet. I’m afraid it’s possible that more than one person has been killed, dismembered and then dumped on the pile.’
Jane grabbed another bin bag, shone her torch inside and started to rummage around with her gloved hand. She pulled a stinking chicken carcass and some soggy newspapers out and shone the torch in again. What she saw next shocked her to the core. Dropping the bag, she stepped backwards so quickly she fell onto her backside. Edwards rushed over and helped her up.
‘You OK?’
Jane’s heart was hammering in her chest, her breath came in short gasps, and she couldn’t speak. Edwards looked in the bag, then instantly turned away and vomited onto the grass. Paul hurried over and opened the bag, at first not understanding what he was seeing, then carefully reached in with both hands and pulled it out.
The three of them found themselves looking at a human head.
Her hand shaking, Jane shone her torch onto it, the light making it look even more like something out of a horror film. The skin had been removed, revealing muscle tissue, blood vessels and sinew. The eyes bulged from the peeled sockets, as if frozen in terror at the moment of death.
Gibbs joined them and let out a low whistle. ‘Jesus. Whoever did that is one sick, evil bastard.’
When he heard about the gruesome discovery, Moran quickly returned to the scene with DCS Blake. They too were shocked when Lawrence showed them the skinned head and for a few seconds both were too dumbfounded to speak.
Then Blake turned to Moran. ‘I doubt this murder is connected to the three females. It’s a very different MO and the victim is most likely male. This has the hallmarks of a gangland killing and dismemberment to dispose of the body.’
Lawrence was sealing the bag. ‘We haven’t found any genitalia yet, sir.’
Blake ignored Lawrence. ‘You’ve got enough on your plate already, Nick. I’ll get another team to run with this.’
‘When do you think you’ll complete the search of the bin bags, Paul?’ Moran asked.
Lawrence looked at his watch. It was just after 5 a.m. ‘Hopefully by about eleven a.m.’
‘Thanks, Paul. I’ll contact Professor Martin and arrange a post-mortem for midday.’
Moran walked over to Jane, who was covered in muck from searching the bin bags. ‘I heard you found the head.’
‘Yes, sir. It was a bit of a shock.’ Jane blew her now untidy fringe from her eyes.
‘But you’re OK now?’ Moran asked.
‘Yes, sir.’