Just after seven in the evening,
Friday, January 13th.

It was cold and quiet in Level Two's morgue, with a stillness that stretched far beyond the two deceased werewolves that had been laid to rest inside it.

After all the chaos from the morning had settled, once the Auror Corps had finished their dance around the supposed 'crime scene' and all the witnesses had been interviewed to their fullest extent, this was where the Dunnigan brothers had finally been brought to slumber.[1]  The younger brother, Robert, lay unmoving in human form, skin waxen and eyes closed.  Dull purple bruises still discolored his skin, matching the color of the aconite flowers that had tumbled out of his mouth when he'd been found in the lift early that morning.  The pelt that likely belonged to his elder brother had been set on the table next to him.  Whereas the younger werewolf had transformed back into a man after his death, someone had taken care to ensure that Richard Dunnigan had ended his days as a wolf. 

Man and wolf; manacles and skinning knife. That parallel, along with the flamboyant display of the bodies, was enough to make him firmly consider Auror Xin's theory about a serial killer.[2]

They'd had to wait well into the evening for Level Two to finish their cursory investigation before the Capture Unit had been allowed in to make their own examination of the two corpses.  Kurby had settled back against the wall, arms crossed uncomfortably against his chest, as he waited for Stacey Li to finish her inspection.  Once upon a time, Level Two had had its own extremely competent magical examiner, but these days, they all made do with medics and half-trained healers.

It hadn't been an easy week for any of Level Four, let alone the Capture Unit.  Kurby rubbed his hands tiredly over his face, one leg bent as he leaned into the wall behind him.  Carter was dead, and Balfour Spectre seemed to have inserted himself right into the acting head role, not wasting any time at all to grieve before laying direct claim to their boss's desk and accompanying responsibilities.  And now, three days later, they all finally knew what had happened to the Dunnigans.

Li straightened from where she'd been bent over Robert Dunnigan's human body, biting her lip as she turned to face him.  She looked as exhausted as he felt, with a drawn expression and dark circles under her eyes.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head.  There was an uncertainty to the witch's expression that he rarely saw there, apprehension as she crossed her arms tightly against her chest.  "I think they must have used silver on him, but it's hard to pick out the details of anything.  Whoever did it..."

She trailed off, her words almost seeming to echo in the cold, empty morgue.

Kurby let out a slow breath, and then pushed himself off the wall.  "It's alright," he said, shaking his head.  There was no point in forcing it, not long past the end of a normal Friday workday.  One of the things he'd learned from Bruce long ago was that there was a limit to how hard one could push a team.  "I'll be back in tomorrow.  Reckon I can see if Marrowbone or someone else from St. Mungo's has time to take a look."

Li didn't look satisfied with that.  She gave a shaky breath as she tucked her wand away, clearly unhappy at having to let it go. 

"I can come in tomorrow, too," she said, turning to face him directly.

Kurby arched an eyebrow at her.  "Sunday," he said firmly.

Before Li could open her mouth to argue with him, the door to the morgue swung open, letting in a blinding burst of light from the corridor outside.  Kurby blinked as he glanced toward it, recognizing the figure that stepped into the cold room.  Auror Adrianna Xin.

Mouth firmly shut, he glanced sidelong at Li.  Everyone at the Ministry had likely picked up on the tension between Level Four and Level Two, and no one in the Capture Unit was disloyal enough to show discord in front of them.  Li had closed her mouth and begun to pack up her supplies, but she still looked recalcitrant as she tucked them back into her satchel.

Satisfied that he'd at least won the point for the moment, Kurby crossed his arms against his chest and turned to face the Auror, brows raised quizzically at her.

1.	Earlier that day on January 13, 2012 - Calling Card [M]
2.	"This isn't just a werewolf hunter, it's serial killer behaviour." -- from Black Out the Moon on January 10, 2012

She had been keen on getting information to Bagnold. She had become less keen about it when she found out from a passing Level Four clerk that he was in the morgue. But a promise was a promise, so she headed down into the cold depths with every intention of getting out of there as fast as possible.

He was there with a woman she didn't recognise, but had seen around the Ministry - distinctly Chinese, just like her. Adrianna wasn't there for small talk, however - the place was unnerving her, and she recognised the two bodies laid out for examination all too well. If she had a pound for every time she had visited the morgue in China she'd probably have enough to buy herself a drink for a month, but any morgue had a universally unsettling aura that made her want to shower after she'd been in there. This place was no different.

"Evening, Bagnold." She drew a folder out from under her leather jacket and extended it to him. "I said I'd bring you the information on the werewolf fighting ring and the silver twine. Hope you don't mind it's all written down, the original files are on removal prohibition with the pending investigation."

Her handwriting was not something she'd brag about, though. "If you need any help deciphering it, please let me know and I'll try to magic it into a readable state for you. I spent a long time writing Chinese as required by the job," she explained, in case he took that as a subtle dig at his reading capabilities, "and if I took too long in the Records Office they'd probably send someone to check up on me, so it's probably a bit rushed."

She had not been concerned about whether she was doing this behind someone's back, or if it was unwanted. Despite her tendency to submit to figures of authority, being an Auror gave her some privileges she was well aware of, and by the gods she was going to make use of it if the situation called for it.

"I know what Level Two has to say about their investigation about the bodies," she said, tilting her head in the direction of the steel tables, "but I'll refrain from saying it openly." She glanced at the lifeless form and the pelt. "Unless you're done with yours."

Adrianna Xin was a bundle of enthusiastic energy, and at the end of another long, exhausting day, Kurby was a little bit too tired to match her vigor at the moment.  He took the folder that she'd handed to him, although it took a few beats longer for him to process what she was saying.  Information on the werewolf fighting ring, which she'd promised to retrieve for him whether she had to 'take it outside' or not.

At least the Auror had proven to be as good as her word, even if he was still frustrated at being cut off so suddenly and completely from the rest of Level Two.  Kurby briefly glanced over the first few pages inside; Xin's handwriting, whatever she said, was not nearly as messy as Ballentyne's.

"Thanks," he said, letting out a slow breath. 

It was a start.  Xin hadn't needed to go out of her way to get him the information that he'd asked for, but she had, and now he could actually start digging into things on his own instead of waiting for Level Two to decide to throw him a scrap.  If there was a connection between the Dunnigans' murders and the werewolf fighting ring, it might put them on the path to finding the brothers' killer.

Xin, of course, had plowed on.  Kurby glanced at Li, who was just finishing packing up her supplies.  She vanished the last of a turquoise-colored potion and set the empty beaker down on a sheet of stiff canvas alongside some other glass containers, pouches of ingredients, and strange looking metal tools.  She tapped the canvas twice with her wand, and it promptly began to roll itself up, swallowing the materials as it went.

Kurby lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug as he looked back at Xin.  "Got as much as I reckon we're goin' to get today," he said, sounding tired.  He looked back over in the direction of the corpse and the pelt; Li was using her wand to re-cover the two sets of remains with a white sheet. "Whoever did it has to know a bit about huntin' werewolves.  The only way to keep the body from transformin' back once the sun rises is to treat the pelt."

"Today?" Did that imply that they weren't done for the day? That they needed more time? Well, Rome wasn't built in a day and Quidditch matches didn't finish in one night. It didn't stop her from adding, "Shit. Well, nothing we can do for now then."

As Bagnold's companion  went to preserve the dignity of the dead, she mused over the little bit of info that the perp had knowledge of keeping a werewolf as a werewolf in death. She'd gone through the list of werewolf hunters currently known and alive in the country, and profiling had turned up neither past deeds nor future suggestions that could lead to potential behaviour.

Of course, there could very well be an unknown werewolf hunter, or someone who had picked up a bit of it on the side. It was not a comforting thought.

She didn't intend to share her thoughts with Bagnold, however. They were all speculation and nothing that would advance their investigations. She'd have to wait until the postmortems were done.

"I'll wait 'til you guys are done," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "Don't like jumping to conclusions. Gonna get myself a drink or two before I head home anyway." She turned to leave, tiredly waving to the two of them without looking. "Hope you lot have a good rest, too."

Li still wasn't making eye contact with him.  Kurby watched silently as the younger witch started for the door behind Xin, the thin roll of canvas tucked under her arm, and then breezed past the Auror into the hallway. 

It had been a long and stressful week for nearly everyone at the Ministry, but it had been particularly long for his team on the Werewolf Capture Unit.  Usually, they all took a mandated couple of days off following the long monthly shift that peaked with the lunar cycle, but after Carter's death and the Dunnigan brothers' disappearance, there hadn't been time.  The feeling of helplessness, of having their hands tied by protocols, of not being able to find answers was intensely demoralizing when they were all used to facing their challenges directly under the light of the full moon.

But it wasn't worth trying to say something to Li directly now, especially not when she was already halfway down the corridor ahead of them.  Sighing, Kurby rubbed at the back of his neck as he stepped up behind the Auror as well, casting one last look at the two inhabitants of the morgue. 

"I think the drink sounds better than the rest at this point," he said, flashing the Auror a tiredly sardonic smile.  "It's been too long of a week."

Adrianna sensed something was amiss between Bagnold and his colleague, but she didn't point it out; that would be too much of her. It had been a trying night, enough to make her wish for a simpler time of duelling with people you knew were criminals and out in the open. Cloak and shadows meant to tear apart already divided factions was never a game she enjoyed playing.

"Sorry?" She turned around to face him. "You tagging along for a drink? As in, joining me?" For a moment she hesitated, unsure of this. Given her tendency to drink herself enough to need a hangover cure before coming in to work, she was loathe to spend time with others - not to mention she was well aware of her less than cheerful disposition when drunk.

Maybe this time being with someone would mean she drank less than usual. It was hard enough trying to hold a normal conversation not peppered with digs at bad memories and the dire state of the world in general, and frankly she was more wary of letting someone she'd just made acquaintance with - from work! - know about that part of her.

Adrianna shrugged. "Why not?" She pulled on the hems of her jacket together and zipped it up, leaving enough space at the top for the collar of her shirt to remain showing. "What's your haunt? Or is it the old Leaky Cauldron? I'll take what I can get. A time like this doesn't need additional quality assurance as a major concern, at least in my opinion."

If he were being honest, a drink wasn’t really the werewolf hunter’s first choice of how to spend his night.  Alcohol was merely sullen encouragement on the path that he really wanted to take, which was staking out some dark corner of a bar in Knockturn Alley or a seedier Muggle neighborhood in London and then picking a fight with whichever idiotic bystander happened to give him his first excuse to take a swing. 

But instigating fights wasn’t the best look for the Head of the Werewolf Capture Unit, and Kurby knew by now that even if it gave him a chance to take out his immediate frustration, letting his anger bubble up and boil over wasn’t going to help anything for longer than a night.  At least if he chose a seemingly responsible female Auror as a drinking companion, he’d have a built-in deterrent to remind himself not to act like a hot-headed idiot.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he stopped to face Xin.  The Auror was only a few inches shorter than he was, even if she looked like she was probably a couple years younger.

“Think I’m a bit done with the Diagon Alley crowd for the moment,” Kurby said, grimacing.  If he was going out somewhere drinking instead of locking himself away to be miserable in his flat, then he wasn’t going to risk running into anyone that he might know from the Ministry; the point of this exercise was to block out the week, not to get dragged into a conversation about it.

He cocked a brow at the Auror.  “I reckon Knockturn’s probably out for you?”  Kurby tilted his head to the side as he considered, and then raised and dropped his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.  “There’s a new brewery in a Muggle area south of the Thames that just opened, but it was pretty loud the last time I stopped in.”  He flashed Xin a sharp grin.  “Otherwise, I’m not opposed to findin’ some Muggle pub to go drink in.  I think I’ve still got a few of their paper money things tucked away somewhere.”

She had half a mind to let him tag along with her to a Welsh wizarding pub; her favourite haunt always came with an organised brawl or two on the weekends and it was good sport to watch, let alone participate. But she felt it would be too cruel for a week like this, especially with what looked like long days ahead of both of them, Level Two and Level Four combined.

"Muggle brewery south of the Thames? Sure, why not?" she said, shrugging. "Sounds good enough to me! A drink's a drink at the end of the day. I don't go to Knockturn because I'm sure half of them down there know my face a bit too well. Unless you fancy sharing a pint with a bird on the counter?" Her Animagus form was not that well-known although she was firmly registered; not having too many field cases or a partner saw to that. "Bit hard to drink with a beak though, I don't recommend it."

She looked around the morgue. "But first things first, let's get out of this chamber of death."

He'd missed the context of Xin's reference to drinking with a bird.  Kurby gave the Auror a quizzical look, but didn't press the subject further.  Much like the Magical Law Enforcement staff on Level Two, he knew that he wasn't exactly popular with most of the Knockturn crowd either, which meant that when he went there, it was always with one specific purpose.  Still, it was probably better to make it through tonight without intentionally instigating a fight.

Going out drinking beat sitting at home and turning the events of the past few days over and over endlessly in his mind.  Kurby was ready to forget about the entire matter for a few hours, to drink until anonymous pamphlets and terrifying visions and mutilated bodies and political outcry had all faded away together into a more pleasant obscurity.

"I've got to take care of a couple things back at my desk," he said, raising the folder that she'd given to him.  Deposit the papers to look through in the morning, check in and make sure that Ballentyne had already left, close up behind the last of the Capture Unit.  Assuming there were no last surprises, he could be quick.  "I'll meet you in the atrium in half an hour?"

At this point, there wasn't really anything that couldn't wait until the next day.  And if he ended up with a hangover, at least he'd have something else to complain about besides dead werewolves and direwolf attacks and Solomon Carstairs when he dragged himself into work on Saturday morning.