The Liltsburgh Constabulary station was an old, square building constructed from stone and brick. It was near the center of town, with a couple bulky carriages out front, and a clerk taking a smoke break. It was cooler inside the building than out, and footsteps echoed between the tile floor and high ceiling. Alec arrived twelve minutes early to his appointment with Constable Susan Janson, waiting outside her office on a bench in the hall, studying a historical map of Liltsburgh that hung on the wall. The map was yellowing with age within its glass frame. After ten minutes of waiting, Susan opened her office door and ushered Alec inside.

“Mr. Burke, I understand you’re an investigator from the Detecting Company, and you’re here about the Sandow dog,” said Susan. Her uniform was dark blue, and a pair of spectacles rested on her nose. Susan sat behind her orderly desk, and Alec took a seat across from her in one of two wooden chairs.

“That’s right,” said Alec. “I understand that you’re in charge of the investigation.”

“I am indeed,” said Susan.

“How is the investigation going?” said Alec. “Any progress since last night’s report?”

“It’s ongoing,” said Susan.

“Suspects?” said Alec.

“We’ve checked on a few folks that have histories of trespassing and animal abuse, and we interviewed some acquaintances of the Sandow family, but we haven’t turned up anything that I would call substantial yet,” said Susan.

“I’d like to review some of the case details, if that’s possible,” said Alec.

Susan nodded, and gestured for Alec to continue.

“Did you talk to the neighbors?” said Alec.

“The Sandow family really doesn’t live close to anyone else,” said Susan. “But yes, we went around to anyone that lived within a mile or so of their house. No one had anything of substance to say. No one remembered seeing or hearing anything suspicious.”

“No potential witnesses at all, then?” said Alec.

“None,” said Susan.

“According to your report, the dog was drugged,” said Alec. “Could you tell me more about that?”

“Whoever killed the dog drugged it first,” said Susan. “Based on an analysis of the dog’s blood and stomach, we think it was a generic sedative, something that you could get at the local pharmacy. We think it was administered to the dog through a fish that the dog ate just prior to being killed. It wouldn’t have taken long for the sedative to knock the dog out, no more than fifteen minutes or so, leaving it totally helpless.”

“Do you know anything more about the exact brand of sedative?” said Alec.

“Probably some form of barbiturate, but it’s hard to say exactly,” said Susan. “Anyone could have purchased it without raising suspicion.”

“What about the fish?” said Alec. “Was there anything remarkable about it?”

“In case you didn’t notice, Liltsburgh is a fishing town,” said Susan. “You probably smelled the fish market when you got off the train earlier. We couldn’t determine the exact species, not that it would have been overly helpful, as anyone could have picked it up at the market, or perhaps caught it from the lake or river.”

“Why would the killer have used fish as bait?” said Alec. “It’s not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of dog food.”

“Sure, but most dogs will eat it,” said Susan. “I’ve seen dogs go crazy over the smell of fish. At least once a week I have to deal with complaints about stray dogs hanging around the fish market.”

“Was there anything else about the scene of the dead dog that caught your attention?” said Alec. “Maybe something that didn’t make it into the official report.”

“What, are you wondering if we found some footprints or a dropped wallet?” said Susan. “It’s all in the report. We didn’t identify anything else of substance.”

“Based on the photos, I’m guessing that the killer used a long, sharp instrument, like a carving knife,” said Alec. “Were you able to determine anything about the weapon?”

“Like you said, it was probably a carving knife—or something similar—about ten to fourteen inches long,” said Susan. “But just like the sedative and the fish, carving knives aren’t uncommon. The killer’s choice of weapon does little to identify him or her.”

“But what about the way that the killer used the weapon?” said Alec. “I get the impression that he, or she, took their time. They were very deliberate and careful with the dog’s flesh. First, the sedative took time to kick in, and then the dog was dissected. The whole process must have taken at least thirty minutes, maybe an hour. It makes me think that we’re dealing with a professional.”

“A professional dog murderer?” said Susan.

“No, no, someone that handles flesh professionally, like a surgeon, fishmonger or butcher, for example,” said Alec. “They would have been under the pressure of being spotted so close to the Sandow home, as I’m sure they needed some sort of light source, but even still the dog was dissected with seemingly calm precision.”

“It’s possible, if not speculative,” said Susan. “I agree that the killer was skilled with a knife.”

Alec tapped his fingertips together. “I think perhaps the strangest aspect of this crime is the killer’s motivation. Why did they do it at all? What was there to gain? Any theories?”

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” said Susan. “Even if someone hated the Sandow family, or if the dog bit someone and they wanted revenge, then why take it so far? It seems like poison would have been more than enough. Of course, therein lies the issue with assuming every violent criminal is acting logically, it can make you overlook things that appear illogical to you or me.”

“Maybe it was a threat,” said Alec. “But if it was a threat that the Sandows were supposed to understand, then I don’t think it worked as intended. They seemed totally clueless.”

“When I first saw the dead dog, it got me thinking about a story I heard of a man that killed small animals when he was young,” said Susan. “He killed them for no reason other than his own amusement, and he didn’t grow up right. There was something off about him. He went on to do some vile things later in life.”

“A budding psychopath?” said Alec.

“No moral person would have cut that dog up, let’s put it like that,” said Susan.

“Do you think it was someone from the Sandow home?” said Alec.

“No, not particularly,” said Susan. “None of them seem the type.”

“Agreed,” said Alec. But that’s the trouble, some psychopaths are good at hiding it. “One of the Sandow girls, Georgia, claimed that she heard someone last night in the woods behind their house. It might be worth watching over them for a few days, in case the dog killer comes back, assuming it wasn’t just a bad dream.”

“Noted,” said Susan. “I wish I had more to tell you, but that’s about it. If you and the Detecting Company have some special method of solving a crime like this, then I’m all ears. Personally, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

Alec left the station around midday. He was provided with a guide to the local businesses, and for the next few hours he scoped out Liltsburgh’s butcher shops under the presumption that Rex’s killer was familiar with the innards of quadrupeds. He jotted down names in his notebook, but no butchers that he crossed seemed particularly suspicious. What does a dog killer look like? Alec didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, or where the best place to look would be, but he felt that he needed to keep moving and immersing himself in Liltsburgh.

Outside Campbell’s Cuts Alec ran into a familiar face. Clay Laroche, a fellow investigator employed by the Detecting Company, was sitting on an outdoor bench, near-empty cup of coffee in hand, basking in a glimmer of sun. He looked tired, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Clay?” said Alec, surprised to see his peer here of all places. “Is that you?”

Clay looked up from his coffee and yawned. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I’m guessing you’re not on holiday,” said Alec.

“Oh no, I love visiting little towns that smell like fish,” said Clay.

“On a case?” said Alec.

“I am,” said Clay.

“Me too,” said Alec. “And it’s a weird one. A really weird one.”

“Oh yeah? I may have you beat there,” said Clay.