He looked at the seal. He hadn’t thought about it in nearly seven years. It would have been both familiar and disturbingly unrecognizable to the average citizen. It looked much like the Seal of the Department of Justice. But where the eagle on the DOJ seal was sitting atop a shield, this eagle was sitting atop a pentagram.
This was the seal of his former employer, the Bureau of Occult Investigations.
Dashiell punched in a seven digit code, then turned the handle.
Chapter 18
Dashiell stepped into the dark room and the lights automatically flickered on. The room was clean, but it appeared unused. For all he knew, he was the first person to enter the archives since the Bureau had been closed.
He always thought of it as the Bureau, even though most people meant the FBI when they used that shorthand. But he figured it served them right. After all, even though the official designation for his former employer was the BOI, most feds couldn’t resist making a play on the nature of what was investigated, and referred to it as the Bureau of the Occult, or to be cute, BOO.
He made his way through the spacious room, looking around for the reference materials. Once he located them, he took his time trying to locate the volume he wanted. But at last, there is was: “Deities and Demigods.” He pulled the large volume from the shelf next to the more popular Monster Manual, and headed to a large table.
He flipped open to the index and started looking for cross-references to tigers. There were at least 30 different Gods and demigods listed. He decided to skip over the Gods and move right to the demigods and demigoddesses. This still left over twenty five deities. Several were Tiger-Gods, while others were only tangentially related to tigers.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated.
He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the display. It showed the number for Metro P.D. That meant it was either the captain calling to check up on him, or Regina with something to tell him. Either way, he decided to answer the phone.
“Aldridge here.”
“Hey Dash.” It was Regina’s voice. “How goes the investigation?”
“Slowly. And I’ve come up with some disturbing possibilities. How about on your end?”
She sighed heavily. “You know, you’d think it’d be easy to return information that I asked for, and not a bunch of extraneous crap. I sent out a bolo to all the local M.E.s asking for information on bodies with missing extremities, and I get all sorts of random bullshit. Like the idiot up in Baltimore who sent word of the body with the missing liver.”
Something in Dashiell’s brain sat up and took notice.
“Wait, what?”
“Huh? I said we got word of a guy with a missing liver. Why? Is that significant?”
“I’m not sure. Tell me about it.”
There was the sound of shuffling papers as Regina looked around on her desk for the file.
“Let’s see….Abe Goldman, 57, killed in his home last weekend, liver had been removed.”
Dashiell’s face creased in thought. “When last weekend?”
“Uh…Friday night.”
“What time on Friday?”
“Let’s see….best the M.E. can tell is sometime around 8 p.m.”
That seemed right. He was right on the edge of something. Like a name on the tip of your tongue.
“Regina, did the Fairfax M.E. send you the report on the car accident on the 273? The local Coroner told me about it.”
More shuffling papers. “Yeah, here it is. Captain Todd Stevens. What about it?”
“Captain? Was he in the armed forces?”
“No. Says here he flew for Delta Airlines.”
The thought that had been percolating in Dashiell’s subconscious for the last several hours sprang fully formed into his mind. It was almost too absurd to be believed. Could someone really be trying that? His eyes scanned the list of demigods on the table in front of him and he found the name he was looking for.
“Which way was he headed when the accident happened? In towards the airport, or away?”
“Uh…westbound. Away from the airport.”
Words flashed through Dashiell's mind. "Here I have a pilot's thumb, wracked as homeward he did come."
“Clever girls….” His voice was soft, as if he was speaking to himself.
“What was that Dash?”
“Regina, I’m almost positive our cases are connected. And that means we’re looking for women. Three of them.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ll explain when we meet, Regina.”
“Meet where?”
“The Folger Shakespeare Library.”
Chapter 19
Thunder. Enter the three Witches
First Witch
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
Second Witch
Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.
Third Witch
Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.
First Witch
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.
ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Second Witch
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Third Witch
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
ALL
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Second Witch
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
Dashiell and Regina hovered over a copy of Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I.
“Dash, how did you ever come up with this?” Regina asked.
“Well, it was fairly simple, actually. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. But as you can see, it uses some fairly archaic terms. A ‘tiger’s chaudron’ is a tiger’s entrails. That explains the zoo. ‘Finger of birth-strangled babe, ditch delivered by a drab.’ Drab is another word for prostitute. And the liver of blaspheming Jew. You said Mr. Goldman was killed in his home, Friday night at 8. Goldman is a Jewish name, and 8 pm is the Sabbath. He should have been at Temple. So it adds up.”
“Okay Dash, but what about the pilot’s thumb? That’s not here. And they didn’t even have airplanes in Shakespeare’s day. So it had to be some other kind of pilot, like on a riverboat.”
“Ah, well this is where the cleverness comes in. And something of the nature of witchcraft. Most witchcraft spells are designed the way they are not because you need anything specific. Rather, they exist to help clear and focus the mind. The actual words and ingredients are unimportant. In this case, having an airline pilot’s thumb helps the witches concentrate on their end goal. And the fact that it isn’t part of this spell doesn’t matter. It’s associated with the play. Which makes sense. I think they’re trying to summon Hecate. And there’s n
o reason a demigoddess would be called by a potion. But as you can see, she appears right after the charm is completed. That should be enough to work in this day and age.”
“Alright fine. But what about some of these other ingedients? A witches’ mummy? The ‘maw and gulf’ of a ‘ravined salt sea shark’? And scale of dragon? There’s no such things as dragons, Dash. How can they possibly hope to complete the spell?”
“I think I can answer that,” said a new female voice from the door.
Chapter 20
They turned at the sound of the voice, and saw an older woman with short brown hair, standing just inside the room. “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Gayle Wexler. I’m a curator here at the Library, specializing in the study of Shakespeare. I was asked to stop by and answer your questions.”
Regina spoke. “Well perhaps you could answer mine, then. Where do you get a dragon’s scale? Even in Shakespeare’s time?”
“An interesting question. And the answer lies in botany and alchemy,” Dr. Wexler replied. "You see, most so-called ‘witches’ of Shakespeare’s day were wise-women, or what we would call homeopathic medics.”
“See, Regina? I wasn’t that far off when I went to check into traditional remedies,” Dashiell chimed in. “So how does botony come in, Dr. Wexler?”
“Well, in order to keep proprietary knowledge over these remedies, and thus keep their place in society, these women would use code to describe the ingredients. Often times, they’d use the shapes of the leaves or flowers they needed. Thus, tongue of dog was a leaf known as ‘hound’s tongue,’ because of the shape. Today, we call it vanilla leaf.”
“Interesting,” Dashiell said.
“Okay, so then what else would they need?” Regina asked.
Dr. Wexler approached the table and pointed to the passage Dashiell and Regina had been examining earlier. “Well let’s see. In terms of homeopathic medicine, ‘fillet of a fenny snake’ would most likely be chickweed. ‘Eye of newt,’ assuming we’re not being literal, would be daisies. ‘Toe of frog’ is the bulbous buttercup and ‘wool of bat’ would be holly. To answer your original question, ‘scale of dragon’ could be either the flower daemomorops draco, known as ‘Dragon’s blood,’ or, even easier to find, tarragon.”
“Hmmm,” Dashiell ruminated. “Well that takes care of a lot of this. But obviously it can’t all be code. We have one very dead tiger at the National Zoo, alone with his zookeeper, as well as a dead baby and a disfigured corpse or two. I’m also concerned about ‘nose of Turk’ and ‘Tartar’s lips.’”
“Yes, that is disturbing,” Dr. Wexler agreed. “Shakespeare chose to use three items from heretics. Hence the blaspheming Jew, Tartar and Turk. All three were non-Christian, and were viewed as unclean in Shakespeare’s day. And yes, there is no herbal equivalent for the ‘finger of birth-strangled babe.’ At least none that any of the literature has been able to uncover.”
“Well, Dr. Wexler,” Regina said, “someone, or several someones, have been trying to recreate this spell.”
“To what possible end?”
“I think they’re trying to summon Hecate,” Dashiell said. “And we intend to stop them.”
Dr. Wexler laughed nervously. “But that’s crazy! Hecate doesn’t exist. You can’t summon her.”
“Someone seems to think you can,” Dashiell said. “So humor us. Tell us everything you know about her.”
Dr. Wexler sat down in a chair at the table, looking slightly shaken. “I still can’t believe you’re taking this seriously. But I’ll tell you what I know so you can catch whoever did this. Let’s see…” She fidgeted, trying to remember. “Hecate is the Goddess of the New Moon and magic. She’s the Greek Goddess of the crossroads. Both literal crossroads, and the crossroads of life and death. In some cultures, she’s known as the ‘Queen of Ghosts’ and has power over graveyards. This goes hand in hand with her role as a lunar goddess.”
“And it matches up with the use of yew in the spell,” Dashiell said. “Which has long been tied to both the moon and life and death. You say she’s tied to the new moon. That’s tomorrow night. I’m guessing by the way they’ve stepped up their boldness that they plan to complete the spell then.”
“So where would they go to do it?” Regina asked.
“Well the scene takes place in a cave,” Dr. Wexler said. “If what you were saying when I came in is true, that might indicate they would use one.”
“Well I’d guess they’re planning on casting this nearby,” Dashiell said. “They’ve been moving in on D.C. as they get their harder to find ingredients. And with the deadline, they’re likely to be doing this somewhere nearby. So where are the nearest caves?”
Chapter 21
“That’s easy, Dash. Luray Caverns, out in Virginia,” Regina said. “They’re the only caves of any size within a couple hours of D.C.”
“Hmmm. They’re what, 45 minutes away?” Dashiell asked.
“About that, yes,” Regina replied.
“They’re fairly commercialized, however,” Dr. Wexler said. “Lots of tourists, and a set of park rangers who regularly patrol the entrance to the caves.”
Dashiell shook his head. “Seems like a bad choice. Too easy to be trapped inside. And too hard to get inside in the first place. I imagine a car would stand out in the empty parking lot, and there’s no other easy way to get out there.”
“So you think they’ll be closer in to the city?” Regina asked.
“But what about what you said earlier, about belief and mindset?” Dr. Wexler asked.
“Well, that might be why they wanted the pilot’s thumb. To increase the connection to the spell and the play, since they knew that they wouldn’t be able to use a cave,” Dashiell replied.
“So where else would they go?” Dr. Wexler inquired.
“Well that’s what has me worried. You said Hecate is a demi-goddess of graveyards. If they are planning on raising her, they want to do it in a graveyard.”
Regina looked at Dashiell. “And why would they want to raise her there?”
“I’m afraid they might be trying to raise the dead.”
Dr. Wexler scoffed. “Mr. Aldridge, I understand you’re trying to find these women because they’ve hurt people. But you can’t seriously be considering the possibility that they could actually accomplish anything.”
Dashiell looked at her gravely. “Dr. Wexler, I worked for ten years for the Bureau of Occult Investigations. I have seen things that no living man should have to witness. Raising the dead is fairly minor among them. I assure you, it can be done. I myself have done it on more than one occasion.”
Dr. Wexler continued to look incredulous. But she didn’t seem quite so certain. “You’ve raised a Goddess of the Dead to help you raise corpses?”
Dashiell’s forehead wrinkled. “No. That’s one thing that’s been bothering me. A single witch or warlock can raise the dead. Three together can even raise several corpses together. There’s only one reason I could imagine that someone would want to summon Hecate, or a similar God or Goddess.”
“And what’s that, Dash?” Regina asked from her place by the table.
“To raise an army of the dead.”
Chapter 22
Silence reigned in the richly appointed room as Dashiell made this pronouncement. Finally, Regina broke it.
“An army?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. It’s the only explanation for raising a demi-goddess. They want numbers.”
“Well then,” Dr. Wexler said, “that makes it fairly obvious where they’ll go, doesn’t it?”
Dashiell and Regina both turned to regard her.
“Well...” she hesitated. “If you truly believe that raising an army is their goal…there’s only one place to go around D.C. - Arlington National Cemetery.”
Dashiell looked thunderstruck. “Of course. They can literally raise an army. My God. Think of the damage they could do.”
Regina turned to Dashiell. “Okay, Dash. So they can raise a l
ot of corpses. Probably thousands. Is that about the size of it?”
“It’s a little more disturbing than that, Regina. The dead often recall the skills they had in life. Even I can take advantage of the skills of a trained corpse I’ve raised. But with divine involvement, the dead may have better recall. I’ve never dealt with this situation. But it’s possible that not only will they have numbers, they’ll have trained troops. And troops who can’t be killed conventionally. If they manage to arm them….”
Regina and Dr. Wexler shuddered.
“So we need to stop them before they succeed,” Regina said.
“That’s the conclusion I’m coming to,” Dashiell replied. “So where would they set up? Arlington is a big place. We need to narrow it down.”
Dr. Wexler spoke. “Well, they’ll need a fire. I’ll believe they can do without the cave, especially since being in one of Hecate’s domains will strengthen their connection to her. But the spell repeats the phrase ‘Fire burn and cauldron bubble.’ They have to build one.”
“Well,” Regina said, “as large as it is, it’s dark at night. A fire is going to be visible for some distance in the park. They might risk it, since they wouldn’t expect a lot of foot traffic at night.”
“But remember, the park isn’t entirely empty,” Dr. Wexler chimed in. “There’s a dress Marine guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier twenty-four hours a day. If he saw a fire, he’s sure to call it in.”
“Unless, of course, he’s used to seeing one,” Dashiell said quietly. “There’s one place in the cemetery an open flame wouldn’t be noticed, because it’s already burning. The tomb of JFK.”
Chapter 23
Regina and Dr. Wexler nodded.
“That sounds about right to me,” Dr. Wexler said.
“So,” Regina said, “we know where they’re going to be. At least, tomorrow night. What do we do until then?”
Dashiell pondered. “Well first thing’s first. I’ve always said, ‘hope for the best, but plan for the worst.’ That means we need to get ready to deal with a potential army of the dead.”
Something Wicked This Way Comes Page 4
