"As if she was placed there? Or died there?"

Beamis glanced at Shradick. "You were at the scene first. What do you say, Vince?"

"Looked to me like she died there. Just lay down, sort of curled up against the Dumpster, and called it quits."

It was time. Steeling herself for that first glimpse, M. J. reached for the zipper and opened the bag. Beamis and Shradick both took a step backward, an instinctive reaction she herself had to quell. The zipper parted and the plastic fell away to reveal the corpse.

It wasn't bad; at least it appeared intact. Compared to some of the corpses she'd seen, this one was actually in excellent shape. The woman was a bleached blond, about thirty, perhaps younger. Her face looked like marble, pale and cold. She was dressed in a long-sleeved purple pullover, some sort of polyester blend, a short black skirt with a patent leather belt, black tights, and brand-new Nikes. Her only jewelry was a dime-store friendship ring and a Timex watch-still ticking. Rigor mortis had frozen her limbs into a vague semblance of a fetal position. Both fists were clenched tight, as though, in her last moment of life, they'd been caught in spasm.

M. J. took a few photos, then picked up a cassette recorder and began to dictate. "Subject is a white female, blond, found in alley off South Lexington around oh four hundred…" Beamis and Shradick,already knowing what would follow, took off their jackets and reached into a linen cart for some gowns- medium for Beamis, extra large for Shradick. The gloves came next. They both knew the drill; they'd been cops for years, and partners for four months. It was an odd pairing, M. J. thought, like Abbott and Costello. So far, though, it seemed to work.

She put down the cassette recorder. "Okay, guys," she said. "On to the next step."

The undressing. The three of them worked together to strip the corpse. Rigor mortis made it difficult; M. J. had to cut away the skirt. The outer clothing was set aside. The tights and underwear were to be examined later for evidence of recent sexual contact. When at last the corpse lay naked, M. J. once again reached for the camera and clicked off a few more photos for the evidence file.