Death of an Adept

She was wiping the blood off the back of her hand with the alcohol swab, still focused on what she had been obliged to do, when a knock at the door jolted her concentration. Before she could make any attempt to conceal what lay before her, the door swung open to admit Ximena, a look of consternation on her face.

"Philippa, have you got a moment?" she asked, coming into the room. "Julia agreed to let me give her a sedative, but while we were waiting for it to take effect, she told me that the people who tried to break into the gate lodge tonight pushed a severed human hand through the cat… flap…"

Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell upon the object in the tin. "Oh my God, Julia wasn't just imagining things," she said weakly. "That's it, isn't it?"

Philippa nodded matter-of-factly. "It's an occult charm of the type known as a Hand of Glory," she explained. "Any encyclopaedia of witchcraft will tell you that such items are traditionally made from the hand of a gibbeted criminal. After the blood is squeezed out, the hand itself must be embalmed for two weeks in a solution of saltpetre, pepper, and salt, then dried in the sun. The candle is compounded of the victim's fat, wax, and several other unsavory ingredients which I won't go into."

Ximena's wide-eyed gaze fell upon Philippa's own hand, where she was pressing a bloody alcohol wipe to the back. "What - what're you doing?" she asked in a slightly constricted voice.

"I was putting the candle out," Philippa said blandly. "As illogical as it might sound, this kind of flame can only be quenched by blood or by skimmed milk. Since we only use low-fat and whole milk in this household, I was obliged to resort to the other option."

Aware that Ximena was staring at her in shrinking amazement, Philippa briefly inspected the back of her hand, then gave the puncture site a final wipe with the alcohol swab and tossed it into a wastebasket.

"I assure you, I'm not some kind of ghoul, my dear," she said, smiling gently. "My son must have told you that there are individuals out there who have a serious interest in black magic, and who practice it with genuinely malignant intent. It follows that in order to stop these people, we need to be familiar with their tools and how they operate."

Ximena recovered herself with a slight shake. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply any disrespect. Adam has told me some things about his work as a special investigator, but he's stopped short of going into detail about the cases themselves. You'll have to excuse me if I'm finding my first direct exposure a little unnerving."

"Actually," Philippa said drily, "you're bearing up remarkably well."

With an incredulous snort, Ximena glanced briefly at the Hand, then looked away again with a grimace of revulsion. "I hate to think of the state I'd be in if I weren 't bearing up well," she murmured. "You said a minute ago that this thing was a charm. What's it supposed to do?"

"The lore of such things tells us that in pre-industrial times, such charms were highly esteemed by robbers and housebreakers" Philippa replied, "as a means by which one could immobilize an entire household before breaking in and entering. The candle fumes are said to induce a drugged stupor in anyone who has the misfortune to inhale them. Hence the attempt to plant one in the Lovats' house tonight."

Ximena's dark eyes narrowed. "And you say this thing actually works?"

"Oh, indeed," Philippa said grimly. "It works all too well, when prepared by someone with genuine occult abilities. In fact," she added thoughtfully, "given the trouble involved in making a charm of this type - after all, gibbeted criminals are not exactly easy to find these days - I think that on this occasion we may safely infer that we're dealing with an occultist of singular dedication - and power."

"You make it sound as if you've been dealing with this kind of thing all your life," Ximena said with some astonishment.

Philippa permitted herself a mirthless smile. "That's because I have. You get experienced at dealing with crimes like these - but you never get used to them."

Ximena stole another glance at the hand in the tin and suppressed an eloquent shudder. "Assuming that everything you've said is true," she murmured, "that doesn't explain why anyone would want to attack the Lovats with something like this."

"Ah," Philippa said. "In case you haven't guessed it already, Peregrine - is an extremely gifted psychic. Like Adam, he often places his talents at the service of the Law. That kind of work can make enemies in dark places. I expect there are lots of folk out there who think they have a score to settle."

Ximena took a moment to assimilate this. "What have you told the police?"