Now I was spooked.
“Identical,” I said, staring at the gutted, naked girl. She hung in an alleyway behind abandoned tenements on the near south side. Those tenements had been occupied by ratmen squatters until a few hours ago. They were long gone now.
In the rain and poor light the dead girl was a ringer for the one Block had shown me in the Bustee. “This can’t be, Block. I got them.” I had to believe I’d gotten them. I’m not made to shake off killing the wrong villains.
Block wasn’t so scared for his behind that he couldn’t see what was bothering me. “You got the right guy, Garrett. Don’t doubt that for a minute. After we got the Prince’s go-ahead, we took that place apart. You wouldn’t believe what we found. They’d been in there a long time. They kept pieces of all their victims. There were bodies in the cellar, girls, but not the type. My guess is they used them for practice before they went after the real thing.”
I stared at the new corpse, listened to the flies sing. “There was one thing . . . ” I told him about that missing clothing and knives. I’d discovered that Morley hadn’t taken away any souvenirs. I didn’t mention Morley’s name. It wouldn’t appeal to Block.
“You didn’t mention any of this before.”
“I thought everything was wrapped up before. But—”
“Yeah. But. Elvis!”
A nondescript Watchman hurried over. “Captain?”
“Show Mr. Garrett what you found.”
Elvis had a folded scrap of paper tucked into a pocket inside his rain cape. Inside it were three green butterflies. I shivered as though the rain had turned to sleet. “How long since the last murder?”
“Twelve days. This one was right on schedule.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” I’d been confident he would. I don’t know why I asked. Maybe I hoped he’d show me I was wrong.
“The killer is dead but the killing goes on. How can that be, Garrett?” Now I understood why Block was so rattled. This wasn’t just a matter of his career being in jeopardy.
“I don’t know. What happened to the old man’s body?”
“It was cremated. I saw them both go into the ovens.”
“What did you do with the old man from the Bustee? Did you get anything out of him?”
Block looked embarrassed. “He died.”
“Huh?”
“We tried too hard. Gave him too much of everything. He overdid himself to death.”
I just shook my head. It could only happen around me. “You recheck the Hamilton place since you found this?”
“Got the report before I came after you. Nothing there. No connection.”
“What about the coach?”
“Hasn’t moved. The wheels are chained so it can’t be. And the horses were sold. They didn’t belong there. They were squatters too.”
“Know who this girl is yet?”
“No. But it won’t be long before we do. She’ll be somebody.”
He meant she’d be related to somebody. None of the dead girls had been important in their own right yet, but they’d all come off the Hill. “If the pattern holds.” I was scared and confused. I told Block I was scared and confused and didn’t know what to do now, except, “We’d better talk it over with the Dead Man before we do anything. He did interview all those people.”
Block brightened. “Yeah. If there’s anything to start on, he ought to have it.”
I recalled my roast. That wonderful, expensive roast that had had me drooling for hours.
I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“It probably don’t mean a thing now,” I said, “but did you ever find out who we caught?”
“The old guy?”
No, dipshit. The lead horse in the team in . . . “Yes.”
Block glanced around, then whispered, “Idraca Matiston.”
“Whoa! Scares me. Who the hell is . . . was . . . Idraca Matiston.”
“Keep it down, will you?”
“Somebody, I take it, that was enough of a somebody that you don’t want word getting around.”
Whisper. “Idraca Matiston, Viscount Nettles. Lady Hamilton’s lover. Had a bit of a bizarre reputation to begin, which is why we wrapped it fast and quiet and other quarters let it out he’d passed on from complications. He was in and out of the Hamilton house all the time and nobody thought anything of it because he’d always been. Now I know what I know, I’d go back and take a closer look at Lady Hamilton’s mishap if the Prince would let me.”
“I still don’t know who you’re talking about. I don’t keep up with the ruling class’s scandals. Guess it doesn’t matter now, anyway.”
“No, it doesn’t. We’re under orders to forget that episode.”
I was willing to forget everything except when I looked at the young woman without her entrails. I shut up, did not press Block, but I did wonder about a woman who would take an antique like old butterfly-breath for her lover.