Without A Heartbeat

Huntmaster Solignis and Outleader Kodessa rode on horseback to Oakley Manor, followed closely by the Scrub team. Faru could smell the blood before he saw the body. It was thick in the air, lingering like the smog that permeated the streets of London. He saw the body soon afterwards - a poor, mangled thing that was half covered by a large jacket.

Richard Clarke was standing next to the deceased at the end of a long driveway that led to the manor house. The benefactor tipped his top hat in greeting, which Faru pretended not to have noticed. The two had only ever met a handful of times, but over that period the Huntmaster had formed an intense disliking of the man. It was not that Richard Clarke had ever done anything specifically to deserve it – in fact he was always the perfect gentleman, as well as a valuable financial asset to the Alliance. Rather, it was what lay beneath the surface that bothered Faru.

People lie – some very well - but the soul cannot.

Richard Clarke’s soul was dark and twisted, something that occurred through a lifetime of corruption and bad deeds. It had radiated outwards, affecting the man himself. His skin was sallow and clammy, and he gave off a foul smell. His eyes were beady things, shallow and greedy, leaving no room for compassion. All of this totalled a person that Faru had an instinctual mistrust for.

His instincts were rarely wrong.

Outleader Kodessa swung off his horse and shook hands with Richard Clarke. “A pleasure to see you again, Mister Clarke. What a shame that it’s under such awful circumstances.”

“Good evening Outleader, thank you for coming.” He shook his head. “I cannot express how much Herbert’s death has saddened me.”

Faru glanced at Richard’s eyes and saw nothing but the veneer of grief. The man was as saddened by his groundskeeper’s passing as he would be vermin on his land. Slipping down off his horse, he patted its side before moving over to the body. He knelt down and with great care, slid the jacket away. The expression on the man’s pale face underneath was quite disturbing. His eyes were wide with shock, his mouth contorted into an O – as if producing an eternally silent scream. The Huntmaster gave an internal sigh. Seeing the death of innocents never got any easier.

“I covered him over for respect. No one should see him like this,” said Richard.

Faru nodded. “Who discovered him?”

“My trusted housekeeper, Mrs Ellison. She was heading out into the village to look for the missing girl about an hour ago. Naturally she is privy to everything I know about the Alliance, so she had an idea what sort of thing could have done this.”

“Who, Mister Clarke. A person did this, not a thing.”

Richard’s face twisted into a scowl. “I’m sorry, my groundskeeper of thirty years was just brutally murdered. I don’t have the upmost respect for whoever did it at this moment.”

“Yes I am sure you are devastated,” muttered Faru. “Has anyone else in the household seen this?”

“No,” said Richard. “I told them that there was an accident and Mrs Ellison is keeping them inside.”

“Good.”

Faru let his unique eyes scan over the rest of the body. What he saw was the sort of thing that made new Chosen go pale and expel their food. He focused, looking at the wounds. He was killed by an intense blow to the sternum, which pierced through the body. The spine was severed either then or shortly afterwards. Size of the wound would suggest a small, blunt object or a hand. Poor man wouldn’t have known what hit him…at least it was quick. He nodded and looked up at Kodessa. “A Vampire could certainly have done this.”

“But why?” asked Richard.

“A thousand different reasons, our job is to narrow them down. You mentioned a missing girl?”

Richard cleared his throat. “Yes. My scullery maid went out to the village several hours ago. She didn’t return.” He looked far more bothered by that than he did the death of his groundskeeper.

“Is this the first time she hasn’t returned after going out?” pressed Kodessa.

“As far as I am aware. However, she has only been working here for a short time. Her father works as a potato farmer on my land. Maybe she simply ran away and returned home.”

Faru raised an eyebrow. “Why would she run away?”

Richard Clarke looked away and shrugged. “Servile work is hard work, and some people are lazy.”

Not those who need money.

Faru shook his head. “She did not return home. This girl was taken, just like the others.” He scanned the area around him for a few moments, committing it all to memory so he could study it later. “I suspect that her abductor tried to take her as she was returning to the manor. It is likely she struggled and as a result the groundskeeper heard commotion and came to her aid. He was killed as a result of that interference and the girl was taken regardless.”

With a sigh he stood up and nodded at Kodessa. The Outleader beckoned to the Scrub team - which consisted of a few Chosen who had failed their initial trials and were at Sciath to hone their skills. “You may begin, there’s nothing to help us here.” Kodessa turned to Richard and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very sorry for your loss, Mister Clarke. We will keep investigating and I promise you we will find who did this.”

Richard gave a nod. “Thank you gentlemen, I hope you do. In the meantime I shall give a settlement fee of ten pounds to Herbert’s widow to help ease the burden of his passing.”

“That is very kind sentiment. The Alliance thanks you.”

Faru had to take a deep breath to appease his growing anger. It would have been a kind sentiment if there had been any truth in his words. Herbert’s widow would receive nothing from Clarke’s hand. She would however – at Faru’s arrangement – receive something from the Alliance.

The Scrub team set to work, carefully moving the body onto waterproof sheets and loading it into a windowless funeral cart. They were about to start cleaning the blood, when Faru noticed something glinting in the lamplight.

“Stop!”

Everyone froze, all eyes on the Huntmaster. He moved over to the shrubs that lined the entrance to the driveway. He knelt down and plucked an object out from just inside the cluster of plant stems. It was a small shard of glass, streaked black where it had been licked by flame. Faru turned the glass over in his hand, frowning. It was no bigger than a cloverleaf, but its implications were colossal.

The kidnapper tried to clean up.

He smiled down at the tiny object. Something had been removed, but in a rushed, careless manner. In that haste those involved had left a single piece of evidence behind. And he would use it to help solve the mystery.