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'What about Boston？' I asked； for the first four cases were believed to be from as far away as that。
'No； ma'am。' He shook his head。 'Maybe one of these days。 We're so much less per ton down here。 Twenty…five dollars pared to sixty…nine in New Jersey or eighty in New York。 Plus； we recycle； test for hazardous waste； collect methane gas from deposing trash。'
'What about your hours？'
'Open twenty…four hours a day； seven days a week；' he said with pride。
'And you have a way to track where the trucks e from？'
'A satellite system that uses a grid。 We can at least tell you which trucks would have dumped trash during a certain time period in the area where the body was found。'
We splashed through a deep puddle near Porta…Johns； and rocked by a powerwash where tracks were being hosed off on their way back out to life's roads and highways。
'I can't say we've ever had anything like this；' he said。 'Now； they've had body parts at the Shoosmith dump。 Or at least； that's the rumor。'
He glanced at me； assuming I would know if such a rumor were true。 But I did not verify what he had just said as the Explorer sloshed through mud strewn with rubber chips； the sour stench of deposing garbage drifting in。 My attention was riveted to the small truck I had been watching since I had gotten here； thoughts racing along a thousand different tracks。
'By the way； my name's Keith Pleasants。' He wiped a hand on his pants and held it out to me。 'Pleased to meet you。'
My gloved hand shook his at an awkward angle as men holding handkerchiefs and rags over their noses watched us pull up。 There were four of them； gathered around the back of what I now could see was a hydraulic packer； used for emptying Dumpsters and pressing the trash。 Cole's Trucking Co。 was painted on the doors。
'That guy poking garbage with a stick is the detective for Sussex；' Pleasants said to me。
He was older； in shirtsleeves； wearing a revolver on his hip。 I felt I'd seen him somewhere before。
'Grigg？' I guessed； referring to the detective I had spoken to on the phone。
'That's right。' Sweat was rolling down Pleasants' face； and he was getting more keyed up。 'You know； I've never had any dealings with the sheriff's department； never even got a speeding ticket around here。'
We slowed down to a halt； and I could barely see through the boiling dust。 Pleasants grabbed his door handle。
'Sit tight just a minute；' I told him。
I waited for dust to settle； looking out the windshield and surveying as I always did when approaching a crime scene。 The loader's bucket was frozen midair； the packer beneath it almost full。 All around； the landfill was busy and full of diesel sounds； work stopped only here。 For a moment； I watched powerful white trucks roar uphill as Cats clawed and grabbed； and pactors crushed the ground with their chopper wheels。
The body would be transported by ambulance； and paramedics watched me through dusty windows as they sat in air conditioning； waiting to see what I was going to do。 When they saw me fix the surgical mask over my nose and mouth and open my door； they climbed out； too。 Doors slammed shut。 The detective immediately walked to meet me。
'Detective Grigg； Sussex Sheriff's Department；' he said。 'I'm the one who called。'
'Have you been out here the entire time？' I asked him。
'Since we were notified at approximately thirteen hundred hours。 Yes； ma'am。 I've been right here to make sure nothing was disturbed。'
'Excuse me；' one of the paramedics said to me。 'You going to want us right now？'
'Maybe in fifteen。 Someone will e get you；' I said as they wasted no time returning to their ambulance。 'I'm going to need some room here；' I said to everybody else。
Feet crunched as people stepped out of the way； revealing what they had been guarding and gawking at。 Flesh was unnaturally pale in the dying light of the autumn afternoon； the torso a hideous stub that had tumbled from a scoop of trash and landed on its back。 I thought it was Caucasian； but was not sure； and maggots teeming in the genital area made it difficult for me to determine gender at a glance。 I could not even say with certainty whether the victim was pre… or postpubescent。 Body fat was abnormally low； ribs protruding beneath flat breasts that may or may not have been female。
I squatted close and opened my medical bag。 With forceps； I collected maggots into a jar for the entomologist to examine later； and decided upon closer inspection that the victim was； in fact； a woman。 She had been decapitated low on the cervical spine； arms and legs severed。 Stumps were dry and dark with age； and I knew right away that there was a difference between this case and the others。
This woman had been dismembered by cutting straight through the strong bones of the humerus and femur； versus the joints。 Getting out a scalpel； I could feel the men staring as I made a half…inch incision on the torso's right side； and inserted a long chemical thermometer。 I rested a second thermometer on top of my bag。
'What are you doing？' asked a man in a plaid shirt and baseball cap； who looked like he might get sick。
'I need the body's temperature to help determine time of death。 A core liver temperature is the most accurate；' I patiently explained。 'And I also need to know the temperature out here。'
'Hot； that's what it is；' said another man。 'So； it's a woman； I guess。'
'It's too soon to say；' I replied。 'Is this your packer？'
'Yeah。'
He was young； with dark eyes and very white teeth； and tattoos on his fingers that I usually associated with people who have been in prison。 A sweaty bandanna was tied around his head and knotted in back； and he could not look at the torso long without averting his gaze。
'In the wrong place at the wrong time；' he added； shaking his head with hostility。
'What do you mean？' Grigg had his eye on him。
'Wasn't from me。 I know that；' the driver said as if it were the most important point he would ever make in his life。 'The Cat dug it up while it was spreading my load。'
'Then we don't know when it was dumped here？' I scanned faces around me。
It was Pleasants who replied； 'Twenty…three trucks unloaded in this spot since ten A。M。； not counting this one。' He looked at the packer。
'Why ten A。M。？' I asked； for it seemed like a rather arbitrary time to start counting trucks。
'Because that's when we put down the last cover of tire chips。 So there's no way it could have been dumped before then；' Pleasants explained； staring at_ the body。 'And in my opinion； it couldn't have been out long； anyway。 It doesn't exactly look the way you'd expect if it's been run over by a fifty…ton pactor with chopper wheels； trucks or even this loader。'
He stared off at other sites where pacted trash was being gouged off trucks as huge tractors crushed and spread。 The driver of the packer was getting increasingly agitated and angry。
'We got big machines all over the place up here；' Pleasants added。 'And they pretty much never stop。'
I looked at the packer； and the bright yellow loader with its empty cab。 A tatter of black trash bag fluttered from the raised bucket。
'Where's the driver of the loader？' I asked。
Pleasants hesitat