THIRTY-SEVEN
He read the ‘Gazette’ story again, angry that his genius had still not been recognised. Of course, they had not been able to identify the victim, they never would, he had made certain of that! The perfect murder. A victim in plain sight with no means of identifying her.
No hair, no teeth, no fingerprints, unable to swab her orifices. It was a work of criminal genius, and the time was approaching when he would demonstrate that undeniable fact to the greater world once again. This time he would spread his search even wider, beyond the narrow parochial confines of West Garside.
Quite obviously the bungling local police had no idea who or what they were dealing with. It was totally beyond their comprehension, unable to realise that they were dealing with an intellect so superio
