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sickening smell clung inside his nostrils, and he knew it would stick to him for days, no matter how many times he showered. Alec often toldfriends that there was something about the smell of rotting human flesh that made it linger, usually at the dinner table, on the odd occasion when he and Gail entertained ‘her’ friends. She called them ‘their’ friends, but Alec hardly knew them at all.
    “Alec,” Graham said in greeting, while the superintendent inspector climbed into his suit. He was always short and to the point. “This is a bloody mess, excuse the pun.”
    “Doc,” Alec took in the scene as he spoke. “What do we know?”
    “The corpse is hung upside down from an anchor ring, fixed to a metal rafter,” the doctor began. The rafters were open and supported the corrugated roof. They had been painted pale green once, but now rust blistered the metal and orange was the predominant colour. A heavy black chain dangled from the ring, a hook its end which threaded through the ropes binding her ankles together. Oil and carbon crusted the chain.
    “It is an engine block tackle,” Graham nodded to the ring and chain. “I think it was here already, back from when this place was a vehicle radiator specialist.”
    “What do we know about her?” Alec circled the hanging corpse. The ropes around her ankles cut deep into the swollen mushy flesh. The body was black and blue with contusions, the head swollen beyond recognition. Rats had eaten away some of her flesh and gnawed, yellowed bones were exposed in places. Congealed blood caked her long auburn hair. There was a pool of various bodily fluids beneath her where her body had begun to decompose.
    “The body is that of a female aged between twenty and thirty five at a guess.” The doctor pointed to her mouth. “I am guessing her age from the condition of her teeth. I think the cause of death was shock and haemorrhaging caused by these wounds here at the wrist.”
    There were deep cuts on the back and chest and shallower wounds around the nipples and thighs. The wounds were blackened with age and maggots wiggled in them, feeding on the flesh. The left hand was missing and the doctor pointed to the stump.
    “The hand was removed with a saw of some description and, unfortunately for her, it was removed prior to death. The killer applied a tourniquet to stem the blood loss. I can’t be sure, but I would say the tourniquet failed. I think the blood loss from this injury was probably the final straw.”
    “Any sign of the hand?” Will asked. If it was available and decomposition wasn’t too advanced, there was a chance that they could print it while the SOCO worked. Will was making an effort to keep things between himself and the doctor professional, but there was a look of distain on the scientist’s face whenever he asked him a question.
    “No, it’s not here,” the doctor shook his head, dismissing the question without looking at Will. “If it is, we haven’t found it yet.”
    “Could we be looking for a trophy hunter?” Will thought aloud. The scene had all the markings of a serial murder from television forensic shows. He had read several textbooks on profiling and he relished the opportunity to use the knowledge he had gleaned from them.
    “I’m not sure we should be thinking trophy hunter just yet, inspector,” the doctor said. He looked at Will and shook his head as if his theory was ridiculous. “The chances are the rats have had it.”
    Dr. Libby wasn’t a fan of Will Naylor, nor was he a lover of profiling. He preferred to follow the evidence as it appeared to him, rather than painting a picture of a suspect and trying to make the pieces fit that profile. Investigating officers had made too many mistakes in the past by bringing profilers into their case.
    “Is there any evidence of sexual assault?” Alec circled the corpse again.
    “I think so, but again, until I get her on the table, I can’t be sure. None of the knife injuries were