particular occult ritual being performed here, or at least not one that I’m aware of, but there’s definitely something ritualistic about the manner in which they all had their hearts removed. It may look like a crude job, but whoever did this took real care over the removal of the organs themselves. Yes, they’ve hacked open the chest cavities in a rather barbaric fashion, but they’ve shown a strange sort of respect for the hearts they were stealing.”
“Almost as if they wanted them for something else?” said Veronica from behind her handkerchief.
“Absolutely that,” replied Newbury, glancing at her. “Although for what, I’m not at all sure.”
“Witchcraft?” asked Bainbridge. “Some Godforsaken nonsense involving human sacrifice and dancing in the woods? Isn’t that usually the way? I thought it might have something to do with that cabal, the ‘horny beasts’ or whatever it was they called themselves.”
“The Cabal of the Horned Beast,” interjected Veronica, trying not to laugh.
The three of them—Veronica, Newbury, and Bainbridge—had encountered members of this strange devil-worshipping cult just a few months earlier. Newbury had liberated a rare book of rituals from them, from which he derived his unusual treatment for Veronica’s sister, Amelia. As an act of reprisal, the cultists had taken Newbury and Bainbridge prisoner. Veronica had been forced to mount a rescue, posing as a cultist and battling one of their abysmal half man, half machine creations to gain entry to the manor house in which they’d established their lair.
Newbury sighed. “I only wish the world were that simplistic, Charles,” he said, sadly.
“Or perhaps the killer is reusing the organs, like those automatons with the ‘affinity bridges’ in their craniums. Could the killer be using them to power some sort of infernal machine?” Bainbridge continued, hopefully.
“It’s all possible, Charles,” said Newbury, “but at present I have no means of even theorising. There’s simply not enough information to go on.”
“There are three corpses!” protested Bainbridge. “How much information do you need? Have you even examined them properly?”
Newbury shrugged. “Context is everything. I need to see the victims in situ. If there was anything more to be gleaned from the manner of their deaths, it was lost the moment they were moved. You know that, Charles. There’s nothing else for me to see here. Sometimes a corpse is enough. This time … well, I’m afraid not.”
Bainbridge’s shoulders dropped as he recognised the truth in Newbury’s words. “Then there’s very little we can do. We’ll have to wait to see if the killer strikes again.”
“I fear so,” said Newbury. “I can carry out some research, and I can speak to Aldous Renwick in the hope that we can find some significance behind the missing hearts. Otherwise, we’re impotent until the killer shows their hand. I wish I could offer you more, but I have nothing. Not yet.”
Bainbridge gave a curt nod. He was clearly frustrated, although it was clear he didn’t blame Newbury for being unable to offer up a neat solution.
“Would it help if you were to visit the scene of the most recent murder?” offered Angelchrist, who’d otherwise remained silent throughout the proceedings.
“Perhaps,” said Newbury. “It really depends on how much has already been disturbed.” He glanced at Bainbridge questioningly.
Bainbridge shook his head. “They’ve already started to clean up. The place was a terrible mess. Abominable. I’d never have imagined so much blood could have been contained in a single human body.” He issued a long, heartfelt sigh. “You’ll talk to Aldous, then?”
“I will,” replied Newbury. “If there’s anyone who can find a ritual involving human hearts, it’s Aldous. It may take him some time, however. And it may come to nothing. We don’t know yet that there is any occult or ritual significance to the
“Almost as if they wanted them for something else?” said Veronica from behind her handkerchief.
“Absolutely that,” replied Newbury, glancing at her. “Although for what, I’m not at all sure.”
“Witchcraft?” asked Bainbridge. “Some Godforsaken nonsense involving human sacrifice and dancing in the woods? Isn’t that usually the way? I thought it might have something to do with that cabal, the ‘horny beasts’ or whatever it was they called themselves.”
“The Cabal of the Horned Beast,” interjected Veronica, trying not to laugh.
The three of them—Veronica, Newbury, and Bainbridge—had encountered members of this strange devil-worshipping cult just a few months earlier. Newbury had liberated a rare book of rituals from them, from which he derived his unusual treatment for Veronica’s sister, Amelia. As an act of reprisal, the cultists had taken Newbury and Bainbridge prisoner. Veronica had been forced to mount a rescue, posing as a cultist and battling one of their abysmal half man, half machine creations to gain entry to the manor house in which they’d established their lair.
Newbury sighed. “I only wish the world were that simplistic, Charles,” he said, sadly.
“Or perhaps the killer is reusing the organs, like those automatons with the ‘affinity bridges’ in their craniums. Could the killer be using them to power some sort of infernal machine?” Bainbridge continued, hopefully.
“It’s all possible, Charles,” said Newbury, “but at present I have no means of even theorising. There’s simply not enough information to go on.”
“There are three corpses!” protested Bainbridge. “How much information do you need? Have you even examined them properly?”
Newbury shrugged. “Context is everything. I need to see the victims in situ. If there was anything more to be gleaned from the manner of their deaths, it was lost the moment they were moved. You know that, Charles. There’s nothing else for me to see here. Sometimes a corpse is enough. This time … well, I’m afraid not.”
Bainbridge’s shoulders dropped as he recognised the truth in Newbury’s words. “Then there’s very little we can do. We’ll have to wait to see if the killer strikes again.”
“I fear so,” said Newbury. “I can carry out some research, and I can speak to Aldous Renwick in the hope that we can find some significance behind the missing hearts. Otherwise, we’re impotent until the killer shows their hand. I wish I could offer you more, but I have nothing. Not yet.”
Bainbridge gave a curt nod. He was clearly frustrated, although it was clear he didn’t blame Newbury for being unable to offer up a neat solution.
“Would it help if you were to visit the scene of the most recent murder?” offered Angelchrist, who’d otherwise remained silent throughout the proceedings.
“Perhaps,” said Newbury. “It really depends on how much has already been disturbed.” He glanced at Bainbridge questioningly.
Bainbridge shook his head. “They’ve already started to clean up. The place was a terrible mess. Abominable. I’d never have imagined so much blood could have been contained in a single human body.” He issued a long, heartfelt sigh. “You’ll talk to Aldous, then?”
“I will,” replied Newbury. “If there’s anyone who can find a ritual involving human hearts, it’s Aldous. It may take him some time, however. And it may come to nothing. We don’t know yet that there is any occult or ritual significance to the
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