#Chapter50
The sun shines down on the scene below it, gathered around the area are three police vehicles. A cover has been thrown over the body in an attempt to keep the already gathering flies away. Roger and Piet survey the area, looking for any clue to point them in the direction of the killer.
Piet swats at some flies buzzing around his head.
/"Fuck it; these little bastards can smell blood miles away. I wish I could do the same with money, shit I’d be a rich man, I’m telling you./"
Piet stops in his tracks as he examines the ground. Digging in his shirt pocket he withdraws copies of the photos the police had taken of the spoor at the other kill sites.