"I need the evidence bags, quickly, get down here."
Will came down a little after Larry with the evidence bags. Following Larry's gaze, his hand slipped from the ladder and he nearly fell into the water.
"Damn it!"
Larry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him back against the ladder. "Hold on tight. You can use the support rope we've got right here."
Liam followed Larry's instructions, one arm hooked over the ladder, the other gripping firmly onto the rope suspended alongside it.
Larry, who hadn't yet descended fully because he was intent on collecting samples, planted one leg on the ladder, held it firmly, adjusted his headlamp, and reached into a gap where bricks were missing along the edge of the well's entrance.
A woman's hand, freshly preserved, came out. Liam, taken by surprise, clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He could feel the tremor running through his entire body. That kind of visceral reaction wasn't something just anyone could feel—and it was what made him a good criminal profiler.
Someone in love might think that every part of the person they adore is beautiful, clean, and pure. But when one comes across dismembered body parts hidden away in crevices, the perspective changes entirely.
Larry, already familiar with the case, didn't stop. He kept digging where he had retrieved the hand.
Soon, they had found all the hands and feet of Victim C. Larry tied the evidence bags securely to the rope at his side.
Seeing that his position between himself and Will was awkward, he sent the rope up first.
Then Larry turned around and tied a fresh rope around his own waist.
He quickly located the missing hands and feet of the two earlier victims. The hands and feet of Victim B, Victoria Sanchez, were relatively intact.
The hands and feet of Victim A, Amber, had changed significantly. Over time, they had mummified.
The blackened finger bones were covered by a thin layer of skin, shriveled down, resembling a large, dried chicken claw.
Cold sweat dripped down Liam's forehead. The sensation of having the hands and feet of three people tied to his body was simply unbearable.
At that moment, a voice suddenly crackled through the radio in Will's hand.
"Forensic Doctor Luk, we've come across a suspicious van, looks empty."
"First, have Max check for any fingerprints he can lift, then open it."
"He already did, but no complete prints. I'm opening it now." As the voice spoke, a metallic sound was followed by a scramble of footsteps and then the crash of something slamming against the manhole cover.
The intercom buzzed again. "Stand back, we're opening the hatch!"
"One, two, three!"
A cloud of dust rose and a ray of light shone from above. Jane had already popped her head through, her face smeared with black dust, signaling the others to look.
"Give us a hand with this." Inside the sewer, Larry told Will they needed to climb up.
The two of them climbed one after the other. The first thing Will did when he reached the surface was tear off the three bags from his waist. Mac, standing nearby and not knowing what else to do, reached out to take them.
"What's the rush?"
Will said nothing. He ran from the van, collapsed onto the sidewalk, ripped off his gas mask, and drew a deep breath.
Larry arrived just after and gave the van a quick inspection. It looked like it had been used as storage. Until Max appeared, still bewildered, nothing made much sense.
"Larry, what did you find? Why is Will acting so strange?"
"His method of investigation goes much deeper than ours. He feels things more intensely, so he may still be processing the emotions of the case."
"Is that even possible?" Before finishing the thought, Larry handed the three bags Will had been holding over to Max. Max opened them without thinking—and immediately screamed, throwing them back at him in shock.
"Shit!"
"Let me see!"
Jane couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer and asked, "Were these hands and feet found down there?"
Larry nodded indifferently.
"Yes. They were found in a brick recess next to the cover of that manhole. I don't know why the killer hid the hands and feet there, but it's obvious this is one of his usual spots."
"What about the blood drawings?"
"They're symbols of a nearly forgotten Nordic clan. It's said they can bind three souls, preventing a person from entering the cycle of reincarnation and rebirth—blocking revenge."
"Is there no specific place of origin for this here in the city?"
"Yes. There's a club nearby, run by a man named Brett Talbot."
As soon as he said the name, Larry's eyes lit up, and Max, standing beside him, couldn't help but rush closer.
"Boss, could he be the owner of the two food stalls you mentioned this morning?"
Jane stepped in too, staring straight into his eyes.
"Are they two of the four regular clients whose names matched Victims A and B?"
Larry nodded firmly.
"Do we know who owns this van?"
An officer pointed toward the pedestrian street. "Those two snack vendors. They say they use it as storage. Property management has contacted them several times, but they refuse to move. They're desperate."
Larry looked at Jane and said, "You can tell them to come in for identification! After all, we've got a DNA sample. We'll be there when they request a search."
Jane immediately started arranging it. Nothing could be easier for her than making an arrest.
Larry then turned to Will, who had recovered somewhat.
"Will and Max, return to the center and deliver the evidence we just collected for analysis.
"Remember, take swabs from the area I marked on Victim C's torso and run more tests. Let's try our luck. Also, collect the fingernails and toenails from the last three bags and hand them over for analysis."
"Jane and I will go over the van here, then head to headquarters for the interrogation. Once the suspect's blood sample is sent in, make sure it gets processed immediately."