They found Victor Boil fifty yards from the stairs, near a row of standing stones. His eyes stared blankly. His hands were claws. His lips were drawn back into a dreadful rictus, spittle flowing from the corners of his mouth.
“Who was he talking to?” Stark asked. “How could he had died? There was no one down here with him. He was alone.”
Ravyn looked around. “No, I don’t think he was alone at all.”
When Dr Penworthy found her way into the cellar, she certified Victor Boil as dead.
“I won’t know what killed him till I open him up, but maybe not even then,” she said. “There’s not a mark on the body.” She looked to Stark. “Post mortem will be at eight.”
“I’ll be there,” Ravyn said.
Epilogue
“With all due respect, I don’t understand why we’re here or what we’re looking for,” Stark said. “If we are looking for anything.”
Ravyn crossed over to the generator, activated it, then switched on the arc lamps that had not yet been removed. The chamber under St Barnabas leaped into high relief. When all of it could be seen at one time, the modern and the primeval together, the place looked even more unwholesome.
“We are looking for something,” Ravyn said. “We’re looking for Boil’s treasure.”
Stark frowned. “The loot from the Hatton Garden Heist is not here anymore. They got that out real quick, and I’m pretty sure no diamonds dropped on the floor.”
“Spiritual treasure,” Ravyn said. “His seat of power.”
“Sir, that was just the ravings of a nutter,” Stark said. “At the end, he was back to channelling his nutter of an ancestor. The whole line was barmy and the world is a better place without it.”
“Victor’s parents sought freedom from the past,” Ravyn said. “I wonder how Victor might have turned out had they moved from the shadow of this place and changed the family name.”
“To paraphrase a learned gentleman of my acquaintance,” Stark said, “he would never have escaped his nature.”
“Why am I here?” asked Agnes Swanner. “There’s much to do to turn Spectre’s Haven to the Sir Phineas Smythe Centre for Psychical Research.”
“Now you have the money to do what you want,” Stark said. “Without transforming the village drastically.”
“I’m sure all the residents will appreciate that,” Ravyn said. “The ones with pulses, but especially the ones without.”
“The solicitors say I get Freddie’s part of Sir Phineas’ legacy,” Agnes said. “But I’d give it all up to have him back. There’s so much now I wish I had told him.”
“I’m sure he knows, Miss Swanner,” Ravyn said.
“The money’s not through rolling in,” Stark said.
“What do you mean?”
“The reward from Universal Imports still stands,” Stark said. “Police cannot collect it. When FOG started digging into the past, it made Victor so nervous he eventually broke.”
“Why did he give us that money?” Agnes asked.
“I think he wanted to keep FOG in business,” Ravyn said. “As long as Ghost Week progressed, everyone was running around. It helped him find opportunities to silence the people who were digging into his past.” He paused. “Of course, it’s also possible he did not want to see Ghost Week end because he wanted to see ghosts. In that he was not alone.”
Agnes looked at Stark. “How did you miss discovering Dickie was Victor? You said you did background checks on everyone.”
“The fault does not lie with Sergeant Stark,” Ravyn said. “Ten years ago, Victor needed to disappear. Unlike previous times, he did not create an identity. Because it had to last awhile, he needed a bullet proof persona. A man named Dickerson Allen was set to start theology college. His calling had come late in life, after the death of his wife. An orphan, he was all alone. Upon the eve of his new life, he had the misfortune to meet Lester Post, AKA Victor Boil.”
“That was why his life traced back as absolutely genuine when I checked him out,” Stark said. “It’s also why a man thought to have so much promise turned out to be such a big disappointment. Still, he did well enough to get a post near his old home. He then worked to ingratiate himself with Reverend Ormsby. He used his position to keep an eye on the loot he had ensconced down here.”
“I guess he lucked out in taking over St Barnabas.” She looked between the two men. “It wasn’t luck, was it?”
“No, it was not,” Ravyn said. “We are not entirely sure yet, but it seems to have been an overdose of digitalis.”
Agnes sighed. “Anyway, what am I doing here?”
“If I’m right, I hope to give you a measure of closure,” Ravyn said. “It has to do with what Boil said about his family’s power.”
“The reason you claimed he ran here,” Stark said.
“Help me search,” Ravyn said.
Stark looked around. “What am I looking for?”
“A hiding place of some sort, one that was missed by the others when looking for the loot.” He smiled. “Actually, they stopped their search when they found what they were looking for, so it may not be hid all that well.”
Stark poked about. “What is all this stuff?”
“The early Christians did not build their churches at random,” Agnes said as she searched. “They built them on established sacred sites, sometimes on the foundations of pagan temples using stone from the temples themselves. Other times, they just overbuilt the old site, like they did here.”
“Very well explained, Miss Swanner,” Ravyn said.
“Sir, I think I have something,” Stark called.
Ravyn and Agnes joined him before an ancient stone ledge about six feet across and half that deep. It faced a wall of stone blocks. On the workspace were a cracked mortar and pestle, a corroded brass scale, and remnants of herbs and leaves.
“An herbalist’s workbench,” Agnes said. “Or an alchemist’s.”
“Look at these scratch’s, sir.” Stark pointed to faint parallel marks in the ledge’s surface.
They grasped the nearest stone. Pulling it, they nearly toppled back when it easily slid. Stark grabbed the adjoining stone and also removed it with ease. Others followed.
“They’re hollow, sir,’ Stark said.
Ravyn shone his torch into the black recess revealed. Prismatic light reflected back to them.
“We never found the hearts of our victims,” Ravyn said. “The Warlock was thought to have devoured the hearts of his victims. We assumed Hezekiah’s descendant, who had channelled the Warlock as a boy, had devoured them as well. We were all wrong.”
“Blimey.” Stark reached inside and withdrew a screw-top jar containing a heart. He pulled out several more, placing them gently on the floor. “There are several here.”
Agnes leaned against the wall for support. “Freddie.”
“Devouring one’s enemies is a way of absorbing their power in occult lore, but the acquisition is only temporary,” Ravyn said. “Better to keep the spirits captive to continually drain them.”
“My God,” Stark gasped, taking out a jar made of heavy green glass. It was sealed with wax. “This one is old. Damn old. And there are lots of them. Dozens.”
“Victims of the Warlock,” Ravyn said. “Hopefully the Bishop will appoint a new vicar immediately. There are several people here who have waited a very long time for a proper Christian burial.”
About the Author
Ralph E. Vaughan has written several Sherlock Holmes stories and is responsible for writing the first pastiche which brought together the literary worlds of HP Lovecraft and Sherlock Holmes, “The Adventure of the Ancient Gods.” An expert on the life and work of HP Lovecraft, he is the author of H.P. Lovecraft in the Comics, a survey of the way in which Lovecraft’s stories were presented in graphic format over the years. He is the author of the Paws & Claws series, in which three amazing dogs fight for justice, protect the weak, and occasionally save the world. He has also written the Folkestone & Hand Inte
rplanetary Steampunk Adventures, which is set in an alternate universe where the Solar System is subject to a benevolent and progressive Pax Britannia. Also from his pen are the DCI Arthur Ravyn mysteries, set in fictional and legend-haunted Hammershire County in England. A writer since the Seventies, Mr Vaughan primarily wrote short stories until 2010, writing a story every week or two, of which about three hundred saw publication in various magazines and journals; several of his favourite stories were collected in Beneath Strange Stars in 2015. While in the U.S. Army (1974-1980) Mr Vaughan was a photojournalist, deployed to many areas in support of the 101st Airborne Division (Air Mobile), writing stories and taking photographs for military and civilian newspapers and magazines. Mr Vaughan is a long-time resident of Chula Vista, California, the setting for all the Paw & Claws books. He has been married more than forty years. He and his wife, Pat, have two children and two grandchildren. Their house is also called home by several dogs and cats, and just about any canine waif that finds its way to their front door.
Also by Ralph E. Vaughan
Sherlock Holmes Adventures
Sherlock Holmes: The Coils of Time & Other Stories
Sherlock Holmes: Cthulhu Mythos Adventures
The Adventure of the Ancient Gods
The Terror Out of Time
The Dreaming Detective/Adventure of the Laughing Moonbeast
Paws & Claws Adventures
Paws & Claws: A Three Dog Mystery (P&C #1)
A Flight of Raptors (P&C #2)
K-9 Blues (P&C #3)
The Death & Life of an American Dog (P&C #4)
Dogs of S.T.E.A.M. (P&C #5)
Folkestone & Hand Interplanetary Steampunk Adventures
Shadows Against the Empire (F&H #1)
Amidst Dark Satanic Mills (F&H #2)
DCI Arthur Ravyn Mysteries
Murder in the Goblins’ Playground (DCI Ravyn #1)
Village of Ghosts (DCI Ravyn #2)
Other Works
Professor Challenger & The Secrets of the Dreamlands
Beneath Strange Stars (short story collection)
Reflections Upon Elder Egypt (essays)
H.P. Lovecraft in the Comics
Oh, Mr Yoda! (play, w/ Patricia E Vaughan)
Midnight for Schrödinger’s Cat & Other Poems (poetry)
Fear & Loathing in the Alien’s Universe (literary criticism)
As Editor/Illustrator
Fungi From Yuggoth (w/ HP Lovecraft & Nick Petrosino)
Martian Twilight (w/ John Eric Holmes & David Barker)
The Book of Rimel (w/ Duane Rimel)
The Second Book of Rimel (w/ Duane Rimel)
The Illustrated Dreams of Yith (w/ Duane Rimel)
How to Contact the Author
For Ralph E Vaughan on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/RalphEVaughan
For the Paws & Claws series on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/007paws
To learn more about me and see what books have been published, meet me on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Ralph-Vaughan/e/B001KCJ7MY/
GoodReads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2769338.Ralph_E_Vaughan
or on my blog Book Scribbles:
http://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/
Additionally, you can follow me on Twitter: @RalphTheWriter
To contact me about readings, signings or convention appearances, please send me an email:
[email protected]
Coming Attractions
Thank you for reading Village of Ghosts, second book in the series. DCI Arthur Ravyn and DS Leo Stark will again find mystery and murder in The Beast of Robbers Wood, once more set in legend-haunted Hammershire County, a place where change comes slowly if at all, where the past often intrudes upon the present, and where old things sometimes refuse to die. If you enjoyed this novel, please return for another visit, and be sure to tell a friend about it.
Village of Ghosts Page 24