"Tell me, how long has she been dead?" the Judge asked.
Molly's body lay motionless on the slab. The Guild officer known only as the Judge hovered over her. It was his duty to determine guilt, declare judgment and carry out sentencing in the field, but the criminal he most wished to judge remained elusive. Perhaps this corpse could help.
His dark, hollow eyes moved from Molly's body to the Guild Coroner, a man named Douglas McMourning, a jerky, excitable fellow who seemed to draw much more enjoyment from his morbid occupation than seemed appropriate to the taciturn Judge. He had a thick mane of greasy hair and a bloody apron whose pockets were full of the razor-sharp implements of his trade. His ever present smile, toothy and manic, was a source of eternal irritation to those Guild members unlucky enough to work with him.
"Ah, Your Honour, you're trying to trick me. Miss Squidpiddge's funeral was well covered in the paper several weeks ago. Such a grisly end, and the paper spared none of the more morbid details. I think I have the story lying around here. I could look for it," the nervous McMourning responded, joining the Judge at the slab.
"I’m not in the mood for your inane banter”, the Judge snapped, mentally shelving a note to enquire why McMourning would keep such a story on hand. “How much has the body decayed?"
McMourning retrieved a large file from a nearby desk. He produced a series of photographs and laid them out on Molly's torso, his fixed grin aimed at the Judge the whole time.
“I’ve only just brought her in,” the Judge said. “How did you have time to take these?”
“My point exactly, Your Honour,” replied McMourning. “I took these before her funeral, and I can guarantee that good as I am with preservative fluids and cosmetic touches, I am not this good.”
“No visible change in how long?”
"My estimation of her time of death is identical to the report I filed when I received this body in the morgue the first time. She shows no signs of decay since that day over a month ago. If I didn't know the circumstances of her reanimation-” the Judge snapped him a look, but said nothing, “-I would be forced to conclude that she was newly murdered." The coroner grinned crookedly before adding, "But I knew she was one of Seamus' girls when I first laid eyes on her. He has a very particular taste, don't you think?"
"I'm not interested in your aesthetic observations, McMourning, only your professional,"
"Very well, Your Honour. The technique used to reanimate this corpse has never been seen before. She is clearly not animated at present, but still lies under enchantment for the body refuses to decompose. The amount of energy expended to accomplish this must have been great – based on what we know of Resurrectionist processes."
"That will be all, McMourning. Leave the corpse and the file. I suggest you find something to occupy yourself with elsewhere. The Lady is coming. She is not as indulgent of eccentrics as I am."
McMourning twisted his face into a sneer. "Your tolerance is overwhelming." The coroner turned his back and started toward the exit. “Your Honour.”
Even while the door swung behind him, the Judge could still hear him muttering to himself. "She really should get a sense of humour. That old severed hand prank was a classic. Just a little joke..."
His voice faded slowly, but the Judge paid him no mind, now deep in Molly's file. He spread the remaining documents on the nearby table and sat down to study them. The first thing to catch his attention was a photograph taken by Molly herself. In life, the woman was a talented and well-regarded reporter for the Malifaux Record. Her last story involved the recovery of a unique Soulstone from the swampland east of Malifaux.
The image showed the stone in the Vault of the Malifaux Museum of Natural History, in a glass case that was meant to join an exhibit about the City bound for New Amsterdam. It was expertly cut and set in a delicate silver broach. The teardrop cut of the stone and the venomous green tint gave the stone its name, the Gorgon’s Tear, and few Soulstones equaled its size. Molly's photograph, however, showed that the name had deeper meaning.
Cloaked in shadows behind the Gorgon's Tear display case was a statuesque woman. Her attractive shape was dressed in a voluminous and rich Victorian gown. Her tightly corseted waist accentuated her hourglass shape while the scandalously low bodice and her slender, bare shoulders put the Judge in mind of some of the ladies at the Star Theatre, although there the resemblance ended. Winding serpents were draped across her shoulders and her head was a nest of vipers, just like the Medusa of Legend. The snakes concealed her eyes, a merciful thing, thought the Judge, though her lips wore a smile both beautiful and frightening.
The Judge found himself momentarily mesmerized by the apparition’s intriguing alchemy of beauty and terror, but the attached report assured him that the woman was a figment. Anomalies described as ghosts had been photographed in the past, and all had been debunked as natural phenomena or hoaxes. Guild researchers were busy at this moment trying to discover the source of this particular anomaly. Being in a room with the recently animated dead made him willing to consider the reality of the monster in the photograph, despite whatever science the researchers might posit.
With that thought he glanced up at Molly, just to confirm she was still among the genuinely dead, and realized Lady Justice herself was standing scant feet away. Rising quickly, furious with himself for being caught off-guard, he saluted. She returned his salute with an informal nod. Her practical attitude was reflected in her casual dress, tall boots, denim pants, and functional shirt. She seemed much more at home in the streets of Malifaux than the Offices of the Guild. The tools of her trade, the heavy revolver and the long oriental blade, were slung low on either hip. If you didn’t know who she was, you would never guess at her lofty position within the Guild hierarchy, but then, the Judge considered, who in Malifaux did not know who she was?
Though blind, Lady Justice nevertheless left everyone with the uncanny impression that she could see far better than they could. "At ease. Brief me on the events of the cemetery."
Sitting, he related to her the situation at the graveyard, of the scattered pieces of Phillip Tombers’ corpse and the discovery of Molly's body in his grave. "He must have been well pleased with his discovery to have been so distracted as to leave Molly behind. She's clearly his most sophisticated reanimation to date."
"Agreed," Justice replied, her voice expressionless. "Samael's report mentioned that Tombers' head was missing."
"Yes. I believe he may attempt some kind of divination."
Justice approached Molly's body, unerringly avoiding the fresh spills on the tiled floor. Aside from the red stain in her burial gown, Molly looked peacefully asleep. The Lady was reminded of the tale of the Lady of Astolat, and she was certain this corpse would meet her knight again.
"I'm more immediately concerned about recovering the Gorgon's Tear. The Governor General underestimated its legend when he relinquished it to the Archive. It exhibits properties beyond those of a typical Soulstone," she said.
"Samael believes it to be what Madame Criid has coined a 'Conduit,’ an object by which an immaterial entity might communicate with the physical. Madame Criid claims Miss Squidpiddge's photograph confirms the existence of such entities."
"Theories are unimportant at this moment. That Seamus has managed to accomplish this with the Tear makes it an unknown variable we cannot ignore. His capture is more important than ever.” With lithe steps she moved to stand over the body of Molly Squidpiddge. “You will use this body to bait him. He has shown attachment to his creations in the past. You will exploit this weakness and seize him."
"Yes, my Lady."
Lady Justice was silent, contemplating the body. “I remember this one. She was a rare soul in this place. She does not deserve this end.” She reached out and, with surprising tenderness, took a bone-white hand in her own.
The Judge heard her curse, and saw her holding up a severed hand that clearly did not belong to Miss Squidpiddge. She dropped it in a bucket with a resounding clang.
“If you see McMourning…”
“Yes, my Lady?”
“…break something.”
“Yes, my Lady.”