“Dammit!” Sgt. Booker screamed. The phones had been ringing off the hook all morning. There were sightings of Lady X all over the City, but still nothing solid. Lorna was still acting up, and Captain Powell was threatening to take him off the case.

“Okay Booker,” Captain Powell’s voice echoed through the speakerphone. “Feed me, I am hungry.”

“The victim was a 71-year-old Asian diamond merchant and he is dead. He has the same mark in his hand. He died quickly according to the pathologist. Do you remember the Greek mythology of how Thetis dipped Achilles in the river Styx by the ankle? Well, it’s like someone dipped the victim, by the right hand in a furnace.”

“Don’t give me riddles Booker, this is a murder investigation,” Captain Powell snapped.

“His body is burnt beyond recognition, but his right hand that he must have used to touch the Diamond has been preserved,” Sgt. Booker relate.

“How the hell did that happened, in more than a hundred degrees heat?” Captain Powell demanded to know.

“The pathologist, the coroner and all of us are still baffled.”

“The computers still yield nothing?” Captain Powell persists.

“We are still searching legends, myths, voodoo, ancient tribal rites; still nothing.”

“Any other victims?”