‘We have us a biter,’ Kin Tak blurted out, unable to contain his excitement.

The pathologist looked up, nodded and smiled at his assistant. He allowed Kin Tak his little eccentricities and his almost Tourette’s-like need to voice his observations. ‘Yes … There is a human bite mark here on the inside of the thigh, made after death occurred. Within twelve hours, I would say.’ Ng stepped forward to photograph the bite mark and measure dimensions in preparation for a cast to be made. ‘She had been dead at least a week before being dismembered.’

‘So, someone hung on to her after they killed her and before they froze her?’

‘Why would they do that?’ Li looked at Mann.

‘All sorts of reasons, Shrimp. None of them nice.’

5

Reasons? He shrugged. She had made him feel good – reason enough. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. He had a video of her death, which he watched often. He was watching it now – sat in his chair, remote in one hand, cock in the other. Ready to pause and rewind at his favourite bit. The look on her face when she knew this time was the last! He loved that bit.

He watched himself turn and grin at the camera, a length of twine in his hand. The girl, frantic, trying to get away from him. But she couldn’t. She was tied tightly to the chair. Only her pretty little head moved in tiny shakes as she squealed into the gag. There was nothing she could do. Her fate was in his hands. Wait … It was coming to his favourite bit now. Tourniquet in place. Turn it once, twice … turn and tighten. Hold it for longer this time … Yes! She knows this is it! Her eyes bulged. Her body convulsed. The shaking stopped. Still he carried on watching. This was his favourite part of the film. She was dead but he wasn’t finished with her. Pause. Rewind. Pause. Rewind.

6

Saheed waited for Ng to finish photographing the bite mark before continuing:

‘The right arm of the victim has been cleanly dissected at the shoulder joint. Obvious signs of injury around the wrist: deep lacerations, residual debris.’ He picked out some fibres enmeshed in the flesh. ‘Rope fibres,’ he said, holding his tweezers aloft for Li to take the sample from him. ‘The hand is still attached, two fingers remain intact but lifted from the bone …’ Saheed scraped beneath the nails, and tapped the scrapings into a plastic dish, ‘which is common with bodies found in water.’ He cut the lifted skin from the woman’s finger.

‘Found in water, sir?’ Li spoke.

‘They had been frozen, hadn’t they? When they thawed they created a lot of liquid. Give me your hand,’ he said, at the same time reaching over and taking it. He wrapped the woman’s cut skin around Li’s index finger before passing his hand to Ng to take a print. Ng rolled Li’s finger, and the woman’s, in the ink several times. Pressing hard onto the pad, he held it there to ensure a good print. Li’s boiled face blanched.

‘You all right, Shrimp?’ It looked to Mann like he was about to throw up.

‘Totally.’ Li cleared his throat while managing a half-smile. ‘No problemo.’

‘Good lad.’ Mann and Ng exchanged grins.

‘Okay, gentlemen, let’s move on, shall we?’ Saheed peeled off his gloves and apron and pulled out a new set from the box above the sink. He indicated to Li to do the same and resumed his dictation:

‘The torso is showing greenish-black discoloration on the abdomen – a sign of decomposition. There is a deep cut which runs directly across from one hip bone to the other, measuring …?’

Mann stepped forward. ‘Twenty-one centimetres,’ he announced, holding the ruler while Ng photographed.

‘A large-bladed knife with a sawing action made this wound, and it was made at least twelve hours after death.’

Li shook his head with disbelief. ‘How do you know that? How do you know the size of the knife? Awesome!’

Saheed paused, looked over his glasses at Li, then, with a small upward jerk of the head, he beckoned him nearer.

He’ll learn … thought Mann, as Li hesitated. The hard way …

‘Come closer, young man. I want to show you something.’ Mr Saheed guided Li’s hands to the edge of the wound. ‘Put your fingers in there and gently pull back the surrounding flaps of skin … Now what do you see?’

Li reached in gingerly.

‘A pattern of straight and jagged cuts, sir …’ he held his breath, ‘along the length of the wound.’ He stood up and turned his head away to breathe.

‘Stay there!’ Mr Saheed said as he held on to Li’s retreating hand. ‘Give him the ruler, Inspector.’ Mann handed it over. ‘Now … how long are the horizontal cuts?’

‘Four centimetres, sir.’ Li measured it with his free hand.

‘How far into the muscle and flesh has the knife travelled? Fingers in, young man, get on with it!’

‘Right through, sir. The cut goes past the fat and through the muscle.’

‘As far in as the length of your thumb, would you say?’

‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Okay. So the blade has to be at least that thick, doesn’t it? Does that answer your question, young man?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Li stood up and backed away to safety. He looked like he was about to throw up.

Mann winked at him. You had to admire his guts – he’d just had to ask, and that was a sign of a good detective. You had to be a good listener and a great questioner. Of course, timing was also important, but Shrimp hadn’t learned that bit yet.

Saheed moved his attention to the upper half of the torso.

‘There is a cluster of small burns across the chest area – cigarette burns by the look of them.’ He scanned the scatter of black dots, a centimetre in diameter, that were spattered across her chest and collarbone.

‘They were made over a period of days and are at different stages of healing.’ Li didn’t ask, even though he wanted to. Mr Saheed hovered over her chest. ‘And there is a tattoo here above the left breast. Can’t make out what it is.’ He paused, peeled off his gloves, and waited while Mann and Ng finished photographing and plotting the position of the tattoo. As he waited he was handed a slip of paper from a mortuary technician. He took it, studied it, picked up his file and flipped back over his notes.

‘Something else, gentlemen. According to the results of these blood tests …’ he checked his notes again and looked over his glasses at the detectives ‘… there isn’t just one woman on this table.’

The video stopped. He sat back, satiated, weary. He closed his eyes. Then the crying started. Behind him Glitter Girl cowered in the corner of the room. Still sat in the chair, his head relaxed against the back of the seat. Still holding the remote. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

‘Your turn will come – be patient. You just paint your pretty nails like I told you – make them sparkle.’

7

‘All three Caucasian?’

‘We may never know for sure, but the measurements, the forward curve to the femur, they tally.’

‘We may get lucky with some IDs,’ said Mann. ‘We have one skull, in pretty good shape at least, and a tattoo.’

‘And a fingerprint,’ added Li. He wasn’t going to let them forget that.

‘We’ll download these photos we’ve taken onto Detective Li’s laptop – get them straight across to headquarters so that they can begin working on it,’ said Mann. ‘Let’s hope it’s enough to positively establish the race and identity of these women. One Gwaipoh is bad enough – three will start a mass exodus.’

‘What about the texture of the skin?’ asked Li. ‘Would that help to give the ethnicity of the victim away, sir?’