under a bush, a leg nearby, and the other leg stuck into a bush, an arm hanging over a branch, and the limbless torso propped up against a tree trunk. Entrails festooned another bush. Blood had stained the grass and soaked into the earth in the area marked off by string.
Caird clamped his teeth together and sucked in breath. It had been seven obyears since he had seen such grisliness.
Caird looked around. Without the lamps, the place would have been rather shadowy. Even so, pedestrians must have been strolling on the sidewalk not fifty feet away.
“The ME says that she died exactly sixty-three minutes ago,” Tony Horn said. “The body was found by a sixteen-year-old boy who was taking a shortcut through the yard to the door. From what we’ve been able to determine so far, Atlas had gone to a party given by Professor Storring. You know him, of course.”
Caird nodded. Storring was also an immer, but he had met him only three times.
“Atlas has lived alone since she broke up with her husband,” Horn said. “Two submonths ago, I believe. However...”
She hesitated and looked around. Then she held out her other hand, opened her fingers, and gave him a ... folded piece of paper.
“It’s from Castor. I found it stuck to my door when I left my apartment after I got the call about Atlas. My God, he was right outside it immediately after he butchered her! It’s a wonder he didn’t try to kill me, too. But he’s putting it off, wants to torture me, the sadistic bastard.”
Caird opened his shoulderbag and put the paper in it.
“What does it say?”
“God—Castor refers to himself in the third person—announces proudly the death and dismemberment of God’s enemy, Doctor Naomi Atlas. God also prophesies the death and dismemberment of all his enemies, notably and firstly Commissioner-General Horn and Detective-Inspector Caird. There will be other announcements naming those who will die as surely as the stars are set on their courses by God. He signed it with one name. God.”
“God!”
“You’ll have to get him,” she said. “You’ll have the best opportunity. I think he’ll daybreak, and if he does you’ll be traveling along with him and you can personally notify the immers in each day. They can help you.”
He nodded and said, “Castor doesn’t know my other identities, does he?”
“He shouldn’t, but who knows what investigations he made? He always was nosy.”
“Do you have anyone watching for Castor near my house?”
“Oh, yes. Two organics, immers.”
“I wasn’t going back tonight, but I think I’d better. Castor might want to hurt me by doing something ... hell, doing something! ... killing Ozma! He could destone her, drag her out of the stoner, and butcher her before Wednesday came out. Maybe he wouldn’t care if they did. He could kill them, too!”
Her voice shook. “This is terrible. It’s so terrible that I have to warn the other days that another Jack the Ripper may be loose. I can’t tell them who it is, of course. They’ll have a lot of personnel looking for him, and ...”
“They won’t know whom to look for,” Caird said. “Officially, we don’t know whether it’s a man or a woman who did this, one or two or more people. Have they found footprints?”
“Yes. Those of about twenty different people. No instruments, no knives or saws.”
“He probably dumped them in the canal.”
Colonel Topenski joined them, and the three talked. If the colonel resented Caird’s being given command, he did not show it. After summing up what he had found so far, no more than Horn had told Caird, Topenski took Caird over the string-surrounded area. All photographs and laboratory work had been done by then, and their footprints would not confuse the situation. Caird felt sick when he got close to the parts of the corpse, but he did not throw up. He listened while the colonel, who seemed unaffected, pointed out various things that Caird could see for himself quite well. At
Caird clamped his teeth together and sucked in breath. It had been seven obyears since he had seen such grisliness.
Caird looked around. Without the lamps, the place would have been rather shadowy. Even so, pedestrians must have been strolling on the sidewalk not fifty feet away.
“The ME says that she died exactly sixty-three minutes ago,” Tony Horn said. “The body was found by a sixteen-year-old boy who was taking a shortcut through the yard to the door. From what we’ve been able to determine so far, Atlas had gone to a party given by Professor Storring. You know him, of course.”
Caird nodded. Storring was also an immer, but he had met him only three times.
“Atlas has lived alone since she broke up with her husband,” Horn said. “Two submonths ago, I believe. However...”
She hesitated and looked around. Then she held out her other hand, opened her fingers, and gave him a ... folded piece of paper.
“It’s from Castor. I found it stuck to my door when I left my apartment after I got the call about Atlas. My God, he was right outside it immediately after he butchered her! It’s a wonder he didn’t try to kill me, too. But he’s putting it off, wants to torture me, the sadistic bastard.”
Caird opened his shoulderbag and put the paper in it.
“What does it say?”
“God—Castor refers to himself in the third person—announces proudly the death and dismemberment of God’s enemy, Doctor Naomi Atlas. God also prophesies the death and dismemberment of all his enemies, notably and firstly Commissioner-General Horn and Detective-Inspector Caird. There will be other announcements naming those who will die as surely as the stars are set on their courses by God. He signed it with one name. God.”
“God!”
“You’ll have to get him,” she said. “You’ll have the best opportunity. I think he’ll daybreak, and if he does you’ll be traveling along with him and you can personally notify the immers in each day. They can help you.”
He nodded and said, “Castor doesn’t know my other identities, does he?”
“He shouldn’t, but who knows what investigations he made? He always was nosy.”
“Do you have anyone watching for Castor near my house?”
“Oh, yes. Two organics, immers.”
“I wasn’t going back tonight, but I think I’d better. Castor might want to hurt me by doing something ... hell, doing something! ... killing Ozma! He could destone her, drag her out of the stoner, and butcher her before Wednesday came out. Maybe he wouldn’t care if they did. He could kill them, too!”
Her voice shook. “This is terrible. It’s so terrible that I have to warn the other days that another Jack the Ripper may be loose. I can’t tell them who it is, of course. They’ll have a lot of personnel looking for him, and ...”
“They won’t know whom to look for,” Caird said. “Officially, we don’t know whether it’s a man or a woman who did this, one or two or more people. Have they found footprints?”
“Yes. Those of about twenty different people. No instruments, no knives or saws.”
“He probably dumped them in the canal.”
Colonel Topenski joined them, and the three talked. If the colonel resented Caird’s being given command, he did not show it. After summing up what he had found so far, no more than Horn had told Caird, Topenski took Caird over the string-surrounded area. All photographs and laboratory work had been done by then, and their footprints would not confuse the situation. Caird felt sick when he got close to the parts of the corpse, but he did not throw up. He listened while the colonel, who seemed unaffected, pointed out various things that Caird could see for himself quite well. At
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