you got anything for me?” Dryer asked.
“Yes, but—” The forensic scientist threw a swift glance at Smith. It was abundantly clear he didn’t want to continue in the presence of the other.
Dryer nodded. “Mr. Smith. I’d appreciate it if you’d please step outside for a minute or two whilst I have a word with my colleague.”
With a slight nod of acquiescence, Smith rose from his chair and went outside.
Stevens closed the door behind him. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“Mr. Augustus Smith. He seems to know something about what happened in the park,l although I’m not exactly sure what to make of him. That he knows something is pretty apparent but exactly what, I don’t know as yet, nor his level of direct involvement. He claims to have seen things like this before, in Iraq of all places.” Dryer stopped, noticing a sudden strange look on Stevens’ face.
“Iraq? Are you sure?”
“Yes, why? Are you all right?”
Stevens sat down. “Hmm. Well, there’s a coincidence.”
“Is this something to do with your laboratory findings?”
“Forensically, everything was as one would expect. The head was that of a Middle Eastern male in his mid-fifties. There was a touch of glaucoma in his left eye, and I’ve been unable to match the spectacles to any local opticians, giving weight to the possibility that he is relatively new to this area, if not this country. His teeth weren’t in that great a condition either. However, that molten nugget that I originally took for some kind of surgical implant was nothing of the kind. I couldn’t have been further from the mark. Under the microscope, I found out that it was in fact a piece of partially molten bronze, and that it had been a small figurine of sorts. I’ve been late in getting back to you because I ran it by a friend of mine at the Museum, and within a couple of hours she got back to me telling me that, as far as she could make out, it was a representation of the Babylonian Daemon-God, Pazuzu.”
There was a certain level of indignation in Dryer’s cough as he shifted in his seat. He threw a surreptitious glance at the wall clock and it was clear that, for him at least, this day had gone on far too long. “So, we’ve got an ancient demon on the loose, have we? My, the Chief Superintendent’s going to love hearing about that!”
Stevens chuckled, but it was far from a genuine show of mirth. “Is that what he’s been on about?” He flicked his head to indicate the man waiting outside.
“Get him back in. See if he can shed any more light on this. I still don’t have a name as yet.”
Stevens nodded, opened the office door and readmitted Smith.
“You said you knew the victim. A name, if you please.” It wasn’t quite Dryer’s normal interrogation tone of voice that he reserved for the hard cases, but it soon could be.
“I believe the deceased to be Mr. Ali Hassan Jamal, an Iraqi national who travelled to England in order to seek my assistance. Alas, I was too late.”
“Your assistance. How exactly?”
“I possess certain...powers. Powers that can be used to keep certain things at bay.”
Dryer and Stevens exchanged bemused, knowing glances. They clearly had a deranged individual on their hands. It wouldn’t have been the first time such idiots had clouded cases with their bizarre claims and admissions.
“I don’t expect you to believe me, however I will leave you with this warning. I fully expect something identical to happen again quite soon. Unfortunately there will be others like Mr. Jamal, of that I am certain. Others will share a similar fate. This will only come to a conclusion when the evil entity that is doing this is defeated. And when I say defeated, I mean killed.”
“I’d be rather careful of what I said if I were you, Mr. Smith. Apart from the obvious nonsense, making threats like that could land you in serious trouble. You talk about possessing powers to keep things at bay. Well, I possess certain powers to keep people like yourself out of harm’s reach. Just what is it you’re on about?” There was an intense seriousness in Dryer’s tone despite the fact that he was certain that Smith was more than a touch unbalanced. He had to be. What other explanation for all of this talk so far could there be? All of this veiled insinuation about demons and evil entities....
“Some thirty years ago, I worked as an archaeologist out in Iraq. I was an assistant field director under Sir Leonard Woolley, working at the ancient Sumerian city of Ur. Early one morning, several weeks into our excavations, one of the Arab labourers failed to turn up for work. It wasn’t that unheard of or that surprising; however, news soon hit our camp that a terrible ‘accident’ has happened in one of the settlements nearby. A man’s severed head had been discovered atop a heap of charred bone and ash in one of the side streets not far from the marketplace. I found out later that the man had been the missing labourer and—”
“Mr. Smith. I’ve got no time for this. Now, if you’ve got anything useful to say, would you please get on with it,” Dryer interrupted impatiently.
“It’s clear you haven’t the time to hear my story, so I guess I’d better just cut to the chase, as it were. Basically, Inspector, what we have here is a vengeful demon, an efreeti, to give it its proper name, which has been loosened to wreak vengeance on certain individuals by Pazuzu. The first victim, the unfortunate from the archaeological dig, had found a votive cache of bronze heads of the Daemon God, perhaps over a hundred of them, and made off. No doubt he sought to sell them on the sly. Such criminality was rife. Regardless, those who are in possession of them are all either dead or in grave danger. As you have discovered, the unfortunate Mr. Jamal had one such relic. I too, have one.” Smith reached into a jacket pocket and removed a small, roughly spherical shaped lump of carved bronze. He extended his arm, held it out on his upturned palm. “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you. The sorcery that was contained in the one you discovered has been spent. It is no longer dangerous. This, however, still retains its potency.”
Dryer edged over the desk in order to get a better look. There was a violent, blood-thirsty, carnivorous glare in the bulging eyes and the snarling, dog-like face that spoke of chaos and depravity, hatred and malevolence. Despite the fact that he could have ordered the other to hand it over, there was something about it that urged him not to. It seemed to radiate evil and danger.
“You say that everyone who has one of these is in danger,” commented Stevens. “I take it that includes you.”
Smith loosened his cravat and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. From beneath, he removed a length of chain from which dangled a circular medallion. “This is the Seal of Solomon. It keeps me protected from the powers of the efreeti. Provided I wear it at all times, I am safe.”
“Do you honestly expect us to believe any of this Arabian Nights nonsense? Efreetis? Magic amulets? Come on, this is absolute rubbish,” Dryer argued volubly. “You’ll be telling us next that it flies around on a magic carpet.”
“I can assure you, Inspector, that it’s all very real. Whether you believe me or not is of course your decision, but I can assure you that there will be further victims.”
* * * * * * *
Smith was correct with his terrifying prediction, for three days later, Dryer found himself staring down at the smouldering, fire-blackened
