* * * 

  Minutes later, we boarded the carriage. 
  "Now will you tell us what this infernal case is all about?" asked 
  Lambert once we were underway. He was irritated with Vail's suddenly 
  petulant attitude, and I felt much the same. 
  Vail smiled. "Patience, gentlemen. There is very dangerous work ahead 
  of us." A moment later he called up to the driver to halt. 
  "Come, gentlemen," he said, exiting the carriage, "we have work yet to 
  do." 
  Lambert and I exchanged glances again, then followed him out. We were 
  not far from the manor house. 
  "Drive on to the constabulary and fetch Detective Claughton," Vail 
  instructed the driver. "He should just be starting out to fetch the 
  body. Tell him to come with all speed." 
  The man nodded and drove on, and Vail turned to us. "I'm afraid we 
  have a short walk ahead of us." 
  "But where are we going?" asked Lambert. 
  "Back to the manor house, of course," replied Vail, "though we shall 
  approach it from the rear. I must ask you first, Inspector, to put your 
  gloves on. I see that you still have yours on, Pendlton. If all goes 
  well, we have little to fear, but we shall be running a grave risk, and 
  must be prepared." 
  It was a short walk through the field, and in short order we found 
  ourselves standing beside a scraggly tree which stood twenty yards or so 
  from the rear of the house. 
  "Good," said Vail. "This will serve. From here we have a clear view. 
  There is the rear door to the kitchens, and over there is the garden. I 
  should think that the most likely spot. We should not have long to 
  wait." 
  The house was dark. There was no sign of activity. 
  Several minutes passed in silence. It was cool enough out that I was 
  glad I had taken my coat. The tendrils of mis which floated like a dim 
  haze above the ground gave the night air a clammy dampness. 
  "What exactly is it we're waiting for?" asked the Inspector at length. 
  "Why, the end of our little adventure," said Vail. "Thanks to our 
  friend Claughton, the man should be off his guard, thinking that Beverly 
  will take the blame... but quietly!" he hissed. "He comes!" 
  A light had flared to life behind the rear door. A shadow passed into 
  the flickering light for a moment, then vanished. 
  Breathless, we watched as the rear door slowly opened, and a man 
  stepped out. It was Hoskins, bearing a small lantern. 
  He paused for a moment just outside the door, holding the lantern aloft 
  and peerig out into the darkness. Then, satisfying himself that he was 
  alone, he hung the lantern from a hook beside the door, turned, and 
  re-entered the house. 
  "Quickly!" hissed Vail, stepping from behind the tree, "we must 
  surprise him when he returns. Lambert, you approach from the left; 
  Pendleton and I will take the right. But use stealth! He must not have 
  time to open the box!" 
  I followed immediately, making my way as stealthily as I could. 
  Lambert melted off into the night, moving in the opposite direction. 
  We had not taken five steps before Hoskins reappeared. 
  We both froze, but he did not look up. He was carrying a shovel in one 
  hand and a small box in the other. He stalked towards the garden. 
  Vail slipped forward. I followed as best I could. 
  Hoskins had halted. Setting the box down, he took up the shovel and 
  began digging in the soft soil. 
  We were only a few yards from him when, alerted by some sound, he 
  whirled and spotted us. 
  Sputtering an oath, he flung down his shovel and snatched up the box. 
  Vail gave an inarticulate cry and charged. 
  Turning the box towards us, the man lifted the lid. Something dark 
  erupted from it; it looked in the dim light like some sort of misshapen 
  bird. It leaped into the air, hovered for an instant, and darted 
  towards us. 
  "Its touch is death!" cried Vail in warning. 
  Hoskins flung the empty box at Vail, then reached down and seized the 
  shovel again. Brandishing it, he lunged at Vail with a wild cry, 
  swinging it like an axe. 
  Vail nimbly doged the box, ducked under the swing of the shovel, and 
  slammed into Hoskin's midriff. 
  The thing that had been in the box flew towards my throat like an 
  arrow. 
  Instinctively I threw my hands up to protect myself. The thing slammed 
  into me, knocking me off my feet. I landed hard on my back, the force 
  of the fall driving the breath from my lungs. 
  Somehow I had caught hold of the thing as I fell, and though it pressed 
  forward, I was able to keep it from my throat. For the first time I saw 
  it clearly, and my flesh crawled in horror and revulsion. 
  It was a disembodied human hand. The skin was blackened and withered, 
  and the fingernails were long and curved. The fingers writhed in my 
  grip as it strove towards my throat. 
  I cried out in horror, fighting with all my might. The thing was 
  inhumanly strong; the flesh felt like iron beneath my fingers. 
  "I have him!" I heard Vail cry out. "Help Pendleton, he is in greater 
  peril!" 
  An instant later Lambert came running to me. I rolled about on the 
  ground, trying to keep the horrid thing at bay. 
  For a moment the Inspector simply stared in abhorrence and disbelief. 
  But Lambert is a good man, and quickly overcame his shock. He seized 
  the thing, and together we forced it back, inch by inch, until suddenly 
  it jerked to the side, shifting the force of its motion so suddenly that 
  we lost our grip. 
  It flew into the air, racing away from us and toward where Vail and 
  Hoskins struggled. 
  "Vail!" I cried in warning, for his back was toward us. 
  At that moment, hover, Hoskins flung him to the ground and raised his 
  shovel, preparing to strike Vail where he lay. 
  The loathsome hand shot straight into him, latching onto his throat and 
  pitchiing him backwards. The shovel tumbled from his fingers and his 
  eyes when wide with terror and panic. 
  "For God's sake!" cried Vail, regaining his feet, "get the box!" 
  For a moment, neither of us could find it. Then Lambert snatched it up 
  from where it had fallen beside a small hedge. He leaped towards Vail, 
  who was struggling to remove the disembodied hand from Hoskin's throat. 
  I joined them an instant later and together we managed to pry the 
  unearthly thing from its hold. 
  It seemed to know our intent, for it fought us terribly, twisting and 
  turning in our hands. But our grip remained firm, and a moment later we 
  had put it in. Once in the box, it became inert, and breathing a sigh 
  of relief, Vail closed the lid and secured the clasp. 
  "Gods above, Vail," I said, when I had recovered breath enough to 
  speak. "What was that thing?" 
  "A Druj, Pendleton," he answered, "a type of undead spirit so rare that 
  it is thought to be only legend. But what of Hoskins?" He turned to 
  Lambert, who was crouched over the stricken man. 
  "I fear it is too late," said the Inspector. "The damned thing has 
  already crushed the life from him." 
  Eyes staring sightlessly, the manservant lay slumped against the wall, 
  his head canted unnaturally to one side. 

  * * * 

  "It was simple enough," said Vail. "Hoskins put the box on Addington's 
  desk, knowing that he would open it. He waited until the man retired, 
  then locked the door from the outside so that Addington should have no 
  chance of escape. He then waited until the struggle was over before 
  opening the door, knowing that the Druj would have returned to its box." 
  "But how did you know to suspect Hoskins?" I asked. 
  "The bell pull," said Vail. "Hoskins maintained he had been summoned 
  from his chambers by the furious ringing of it. But when we retraced 
  Lord Addington's footsteps, it was apparent that he never ventured near 
  it." 
  "The only question was finding where Hoskins had hidden the box. The 
  simplest solution seemed to have him bring it to us. So I mentioned 
  Claughton intended to search the house. I was certain he would wait 
  until we had departed, then bury it outside." 
  "But the disembodied hand, Vail! How on earth could you have known to 
  expect that?" 
  "I had the advantage of knowledge which you did not possess. This is a 
  strange land we dwell in, Pendleton, filled with all manner of 
  horrifying and supernatural forces. Ghosts and vampires are very real, 
  and there are worse creatures which prey upon man. As you know, I have 
  studied everything which would help me to better understand the fearsome 
  nature of these creatures and have established contact with experts on 
  the supernatural." 
  "You refer, I assume, to your communications with Dr. Van Richten?" 
  Vail nodded. "He is the authority on the subject. But even his 
  writings mention little about the Druj, so rare is it. It is an undead 
  spirit bound by some awful rite to a piece of human felsh, usually and 
  eye or a hand. Formidable in combat, it also secretes a powerful 
  poison. The means of creating them are unknown. It is rendered 
  harmless enough in its box, but we must find some way of permanently 
  destroying it. I will contact Dr. Van Richten in hopes that he may be 
  able to shed some light. In the meantime, Lambert will keep it safe." 
  "Well," I said. "Everything seems to be resolved. Beverly Addington 
  is free again, and the murderer, if not brought to justice, at least met 
  his final reward." 
  "Resolved, Pendleton?" asked Vail bitterly. "I think not. Have you 
  forgotten the letter? Do you think it was Hoskins who animated the 
  Druj? No it would have never have turned on its master. He was the 
  agent of some larger group. Yet I have no way to track them." 
  "There is the letter," I said, trying to cheer him. "You have tracked 
  men down by the letters before." 
  "Of course, of course," he murmured wearily. "But I have little hope 
  that it will yield real results. There is too little data. Still, our 
  paths will certainly cross again. They will not escape me long." 

  The End (for now)