In December 1928, a large crate arrives at Mediodía station in Madrid, nowadays known as Atocha Station.  The paperwork shows that the crate was sent from Barcelona on December 7 and has been sitting there for four and a half months, waiting for someone to pick it up. No one ever comes for it, so according to the rules, the station master will now open the crate and sell the contents.

As soon as they pull out the first nails from the wooden lid, the storage room starts to fill with a horrible odour. "I thought it had to be another spoiled ham," the manager later recounts in an interview. When they lift the lid, they first see old newspapers and then some sheets, followed by a human leg, including a foot with a shiny shoe. It turns out that the crate contains the half-decayed, chopped up pieces of a man. Not just any man, but an extremely well-dressed male, about thirty years old, dark, tall, and broad-shouldered. With - even after all those months - beautifully manicured hands and wearing silk underwear. A very well taken care of specimen. The only thing missing? His head.

 

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