[Alastor tosses photos of a leg in a pan and a roll of paper towels that look like they were hastily replaced onto his podium.]

The limbs were cut with some sort of very sharp implement, and then someone tried to cook the leg. They must have been up pretty recently, since the oven was turned off but still warm when we got there.

And I'm gonna go ahead and say this right now: I have an alibi. Roland was with me all night, and would've noticed if I'd left.