"Of course, there is a criminal element, but the percentage is no larger than that in America or Europe. She had heard Alice talking and crying at the same time, a painful noise. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. "I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold me," cried Jack.
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