They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. He was placed in a coach, handcuffed, and heavily fettered, and guarded by a vast posse of officers to Temple Bar, where a fresh relay of constables escorted him to Westminster. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses.
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