Rain poured down as daylight faded, but it did nothing to dampen the newspaper reporters' enthusiasm.
They stared wide-eyed toward the playing field at Saint Paul School.
A wooden stake three or four meters tall stood there, with a head perched on its tip. Below it was an impaled torso, while the arms and legs had been arranged proportionately on either side. From a distance, the stake looked like a malformed little giant.
But anyone who approached could see the bloody horror of it.
A brutal dismemberment!
A grotesque arrangement!
Ordinary people would have fled from such a terrifying sight, but to these reporters, it was rare material. They propped their umbrellas against their shoulders, pinned the handles with their right wrists, and rapidly sketched everything with pencils in hand. Some who finished their sketches early turned their attention to the surrounding officers, especially when they saw John step down from the carriage.
"Chief, what do you think of this murder?"
"Chief, is the killer challenging the police by doing this?"
"Chief, are you confident you can catch a killer like this?"
The barrage of questions was even harder to stomach than the miserable weather.
Already weighed down by yet another murder, John's expression turned thunderous. If he had not been concerned about unfavorable reporting, he would gladly have let these idle fools feel the force of his fists.
But now?
"Karl? Karl?"
The police chief shouted.
The young officer quickly ran out of the school grounds.
"Chief!"
Soaked through by the rain, Karl saluted.
"Expand the cordon by fifty meters. Arrest anyone who crosses it as a suspect!"
The chief gave his orders.
"Yes, sir!"
Karl answered loudly.
Chaos promptly erupted outside Saint Paul School.
"No!"
"You can't do this!"
"We have a right to know!"
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