Preliminary investigation was, by far, the part of the job Lucía hated the most. Trying to connect a collection of barely related clues and events into a coherent pattern was exhausting. The assumptions and theories derived from it were, at best, unreliable, but even that was better than facing the unknown.
The worst part was that Lucía did not have the resources she wished were at her disposal. There was no backup from headquarters, at least not on this side of the ocean. There were no libraries where she could find the kind of information she needed, nor did she have the contacts to obtain it through other means. She was alone, without reinforcements, with only the supplies that fit in the saddlebags of her motorcycle.
Still, she did not let that affect her. There was work to be done, and she had a file provided by the local institution in charge, which had generously allowed her to operate in the area while they handled their own pending matters.
"Here's your order, miss." The waiter's voice pulled Lucía from her thoughts, just in time to see her breakfast being served along with a coffee.
"Just what the doctor ordered," she thought as she looked at the sunny-side-up eggs, strips of ham, homemade sausages, and toast. The coffee with cream and sugar was just the cherry on top.
With half of her mind occupied by enjoying breakfast, the other half reviewed the file on the table, which contained more information than Lucía had initially expected.
"At least now I know I was right about the church."
To Lucía's surprise, the file she had been given contained a considerable amount of information about Hertford. It began with a list of contacts she could turn to for support, depending on what she needed.
The town's botanist could provide rare herbs and reagents if necessary. Katherine's church was the designated haven in case things went wrong. If needed, she could present one of the documents included in the file at the police station to get out of trouble.
Beyond that, there were reports on multiple incidents of questionable nature. Some were clearly supernatural, while others were cases where certain details never quite lined up, leaving them unresolved. Among them was the fire at Old Tom's pub, where the previous owner had died.
There were also a couple of reports on confirmed supernatural anomalies that had not been dealt with for one reason or another. If Lucía had to bet, she would say that the lack of an available exorcist and the low level of danger had allowed the anomalies to persist.
"Would you like anything else, miss?"
Before she even realized it, a waiter was standing beside her, probably because she had emptied her plate at an expedient pace while reviewing the file.
Without taking her eyes off the next set of documents, she replied, "I'll have a shepherd's pie and another coffee."
Ignoring the waiter's surprised expression, Lucía picked up Katherine's file, which had apparently been provided by the very church where the girl lived. It did not seem like the redhead was aware of it, given that the photo in the file did not appear to have been taken officially.
Katherine, no surname.
Date of birth: June 19, 1995.
Mother's name: Unknown.
Father's name: Unknown.
Blood type: O- (universal).
Height: 165 cm.
Weight: 54 kg.
Left at the doors of St. Magdalene's Church on the night of June 26, 1995, with nothing but her name written on a note.
"So she does not even know her parents' names," Lucía murmured somberly, well aware of how painful it was to lose touch with one's origins, though her circumstances were vastly different.
"Now comes the interesting part," she said as she moved on to the next section of the file.
Report on the subject, Katherine, age five. Provided by Father Viktor Velmona, caretaker of St. Magdalene's Church. February 15, 2000.
At first, it was easy to overlook the signs. She was just a bright child with an overly active imagination, or at least that is what I told myself. However, she learned too quickly, and she knew too much.
Despite only briefly interacting with one of the resident nuns, Sari, who occasionally spoke French, Katherine has demonstrated fluency in the language. Shortly afterward, we discovered that the girl had learned Latin from the ancient books safeguarded in our libraries.
After witnessing her learn a third language in a matter of days and subjecting her to further tests, we believe Katherine possesses the gift of tongues.
Report on the subject, Katherine, age seven. Provided by Father Viktor Velmona, caretaker of St. Magdalene's Church. October 31, 2002.
Multiple incidents have been recorded indicating that the child in our care, Katherine, now seven years old, possesses the gift of sight. What we once attributed to imaginary friends turned out to be people who had passed away in the Hertford community in recent years.
Whether she is aware of it or not, Katherine has demonstrated the ability to see and communicate with the dead. She is still young and does not seem to fully understand her capabilities.
I recommend enrolling her in the Vatican's exorcist training program.
Recommendation accepted. Test administered by Sister Superior Elena Brown, retired exorcist. Test date: November 10, 2005.
Results: Based on my judgment and experience, the child named Katherine does not possess the psychological aptitude to develop the gift of voice necessary for an exorcist, despite her other gifts.
The most likely outcome of subjecting the girl to our training methods would be total mental collapse in the worst-case scenario. In the best-case scenario, she would become a mediocre exorcist who would end up dead as soon as she encountered the true horrors that lurk in this world.
By that point in her reading, Lucía paused, unable to ignore the inconsistency in the report.
"I've heard of the gift of tongues a couple of times before, but it's hard to classify it as such since it could simply be the result of having a very high IQ. The gift of sight, on the other hand, is something rare, though it explains Katherine's attitude and the rumors surrounding her."
Lucía had been in Hertford for less than twenty-four hours, yet she had already heard enough about Katherine to form an impression of her, at least in terms of how the townspeople viewed her. That impression could be summarized as follows: ninety percent of the town believed she was an attention-seeking, delusional girl who made up ghost stories, while the remaining ten percent adored her and refused to comment on her peculiarities.
The first part made sense, at least based on Lucía's experience. She had encountered similar cases before, and while many turned out to be exactly what people believed, others involved individuals with a heightened sensitivity to the supernatural.
It was the second part that caught Lucía's attention, the extent to which those who truly knew Katherine loved her. Not only that, but they protected her, each in their own way. That spoke volumes about who Katherine really was, far more than anything else.
But if that were not enough, there was documented evidence of her character, though it lacked the official formatting present in the rest of the file. In fact, much of the recorded information had changed since Elena Brown became involved in submitting reports.
At the very least, there was a simple record listing Katherine as a volunteer for nearly every church-administered activity aimed at helping others. That volunteer work prominently and repeatedly included her participation in grief counseling sessions offered to the families of the deceased.
The file also contained records of several individuals of interest in Hertford, including Father Viktor and Sister Superior Elena, though theirs were significantly less detailed. Likewise, there was another name, or rather, a surname, that caught Lucía's attention: the Bennett family, descendants of a long lineage of occult practitioners residing in Hertford.
Unfortunately, their records did not specify the depth or nature of their occult practices, meaning they could be involved in virtually anything. For all Lucía knew, the Bennetts could be people performing minor rituals, sacrificing a bird for a good harvest, or something along those lines. Either that, or they were Satanists attempting to summon a prince of Hell who would bring an apocalypse of biblical proportions to Earth. That was how vague the term "occult practitioners" could be.
"I suppose I'll have to investigate."