Page 96 of Twisted Lies
She looked down to the ground and then back at Keats.
‘You have to be fucking kidding me?’
Eighty-Three
Three separate circles of torchlight were trained on the body of a female in her mid-thirties.
Lying on the ground, face up, a wooden door had been placed over her body from her ankle to her neck, lengthways. Upon the door lay heavy rocks, stacked and placed along the whole length of the door. The woman’s arms were stretched above her head and staked into the ground.
‘It’s another form of stoning,’ Mitch said as the area lit up further with a camera flash. ‘It’s a slower, more painful method than being buried in the ground with your head exposed. As horrific as that is, a few good shots and you’re gone. There’s no fast way out of this one. The stones are added one at a time, slowly, gradually breaking bones and squashing vital organs in the—’
‘Can we get them off her?’ Kim asked, feeling her chest tightening, as though those rocks were upon her torso. She knew the woman was dead, but she wanted the weight removed.
Mitch looked to the photographer, who took one more shot and then nodded.
Kim stepped forward and removed the first rock.
‘Inspector,’ Mitch protested.
‘You have my DNA, Mitch, you can rule me out.’
‘Not that. There are plenty of us here to—’
‘I’m good thanks, now where do you want them?’
Mitch shook his head and pointed to a sheet of clear plastic a few metres away. ‘Make lines from left to right, so we know the order they were removed.’
She nodded her understanding. Every rock would be inspected for evidence, and Mitch needed to know where they’d been within the pile.
He was right, she acknowledged, as half a dozen pairs of hands began to move the rocks.
She wasn’t surprised when Keats joined in too. They disagreed on many things but agreed on most things when it came to victim care. Within minutes, the number of stones in the line was greater than the pile on the door holding down the body. Kim felt her breathing ease a little more with every stone that was removed.
Once the stones were off, Kim stepped aside as the forensic techs gently lifted and removed the door. Immediately, she was surprised at how little trauma was evident on the outside of the body. She couldn’t even imagine the damage within.
The woman was dressed simply in light jeans and a sweatshirt. A pair of trainers covered plain black socks, and there was no jewellery that Kim could see. She also noted the absence of any handbag. She suspected the personal possessions had been taken like all the other victims. Probably done to slow them down but, given that no one was who they appeared to be, it was like starting from scratch even once they had a name.
Both she and Mitch stepped aside as Keats commenced his initial inspection.
‘What do you reckon to the weight?’ Kim asked, nodding towards the stones.
‘At least a ton, maybe a ton and a half. It’s like having a skip full of dirt lowered onto you very slowly. Your guy has some patience, I’ll say that,’ Mitch observed as Keats took the liver probe from his dubious-looking tool kit.
Never a part of the process Kim relished, she did appreciate it gave them a good indication of time of death.
Her mind had hung on to something Mitch had said about patience.
She sniffed the air. ‘Hey, Mitch, you smell that?’ she asked as Keats shook his head and checked his probe.
‘What?’ Mitch asked. ‘I can’t smell anything.’
‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘I made the assumption you’d stumbled upon an earlier crime scene but…’ She took a few steps away, looking in the direction of the first body that had been found in the area.
‘What are you thinking?’ Mitch asked, following her.
‘The absence of the smell,’ she said as the answer became clear to her. ‘Mitch, he was doing these two at the same time.’
Mitch looked at the distance between the two points and considered before nodding his agreement.
