"I can give you all the details of the Los Angeles case, as well," said Modred, after he'd finished briefing

Paul and Loomis on the necromantic murders in London's Whitechapel district. Though Paul knew the

truth, of course, what Modred gave Loomis was a slightly edited version. He had learned long ago that

the best lies are those that closely skirt the truth and what he told Loomis was essentially what had really

happened in Whitechapel, though he left out any mention of the Dark Ones. Instead, he blamed the

killings on the mysterious and nameless necromantic cult he had invented.

"I can give you all the details of the Los Angeles case, as well," said Modred, after he'd finished briefing

Paul and Loomis on the necromantic murders in London's Whitechapel district. Though Paul knew the

truth, of course, what Modred gave Loomis was a slightly edited version. He had learned long ago that

the best lies are those that closely skirt the truth and what he told Loomis was essentially what had really

happened in Whitechapel, though he left out any mention of the Dark Ones. Instead, he blamed the

killings on the mysterious and nameless necromantic cult he had invented.

"The pattern was the same?" asked Loomis.

"Virtually identical," Modred replied. "In Whitechapel, as in Los Angeles, the initial victims were

prostitutes."

"Only neither of our victims were hookers," Loomis pointed out. "They were both students."

"True," said Modred, "however, the common thread is nevertheless still there. Young females. In

Whitechapel, as in Los Angeles, young prostitutes were the most easily vulnerable. From what I gather,

you do not have much street prostitution in Santa Fe. But you do have a sizable population of young

people, students at the university, many of whom are often out after dark. Santa Fe is not the sort of city

where a young woman would be afraid to walk the streets at night alone."

"Yeah, well, at least it used to be," said Loomis dryly. "Go on."

They were sitting at a small table in the back of a café. Modred paused while the waitress brought more

coffee, then continued.

"In our case, in London, the victims were all savagely mutilated. The runic markings that you saw carved

into the body of that poor girl were identical to the ones our victims had."

"And they were the same as the ones in L.A.?" asked Loomis.

"The same," Modred replied. He paused to light a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out

through his nostrils. "In our case, the press caught on quite early in the game and quickly dubbed the killer

the 'Ripper,' after a notorious and savagely brutal murderer who terrorized that same Whitechapel district

back in the nineteenth century."

"You're not suggesting that—"

"No, no, of course not," Modred said. "The nineteenth-century killer, known as Jack the Ripper, was a

sadistic serial killer with a detailed knowledge of anatomy. The weapons he used were surgical knives

and he left his victims vivisected in a grisly manner. That killer, by the way, was never caught, but we

caught our 'Ripper.' We were, unfortunately, never able to bring him to trial. He was killed resisting

capture. And in the Ripper case of the nineteenth century, obviously, there was no necromancy involved.

No runic symbols were carved into the bodies. However, the press seized upon the coincidence of the