Three dignitaries awaited their arrival, Governor Willoughby, Mayor Jordan and Chief of Police Scott.
"This way, sir," said Scott, elbowing aside the other two. "Formalities can wait, we've got work to do."
Introductions were performed on the way to another grove lanced with searchlights. A photographer was busy over the body of a middle-aged man.
"Some folks you can't tell anything," Scott said, "and especially when they're in heat. We never had any complaints about this guy, but we knew what he was. I myself told him that someday he would pick up the wrong man.
"And he sure did this time," he added unnecessarily.
Corporal Forester squatted beside the body. "He was kneeling, grabbed by his long hair, head pulled back, one good slash did the rest."
"Real nice slash," General Mosby agreed professionally. "I'd like to show that to some of my men." He pushed the head back so that the cut across the throat was more clearly visible. "Just one swipe."
"Clarens was a pre-med student," Thornberry stated.
Bennington noticed that his psych-expert had kept his gaze fixed on the trees after a glance at the body.
"No idea where he went from here, of course?" Mosby asked.