Jasfoup bound the head with duct tape.
It was easy enough horizontally. It stuck to the chap's hair and once he'd made a complete circuit it stuck to itself, enabling to wind the roll over the mouth, the nostrils and the eyes. The other way was harder. It wouldn't stick to the gooey mess where the head used to be attached to the neck. He could let the thing dry a bit... no, he hadn't time. He contented himself with several vertical loops – enough to stop it sticking back on. He dropped the package into a felt shoe bag still stitched with the name : 'Johnny Woodhead Class 3C' and added two half bricks.
The whole thing made a satisfying splash in the river and sank immediately. He watched until there were no more bubbles and then turned. On the ground, the headless corpse still twitched, the fingers curling and uncurling in the moonlight.
Jasfoup hefted the axe. This was getting tedious.