Crux glared at Valkyrie, then looked at Skulduggery. "What are you doing here?"

"We were passing, we heard there'd been another murder, and we thought we could get a peek at the

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crime scene. We just arrived, actually. Is there any chance ...?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pleasant," Crux said stiffly. "Because of the international nature of these crimes and the attention they're getting, the Grand Mage expects me to conduct myself with the utmost professionalism, and he has given me strict instructions as regards you and Miss Cain. He doesn't want either of you anywhere near Sanctuary business."

"But this isn't Sanctuary business," Valkyrie pointed out. "It's just a murder. Cameron Light didn't even work for the Sanctuary."

"It is an official Sanctuary investigation, which makes it official Sanctuary business."

Skulduggery's tone was friendly. "So how's the investigation going? You're probably under a lot of pressure to get results, right?"

"It's under control."

"Oh, I'm sure it is. And I'm sure the international community is offering help and pooling resources--this isn't just an Irish problem, after all. But if you need any unofficial help, we'll be glad to--"

"You may break the rules," Crux interrupted, "but I don't. You no longer have any authority here.

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You gave that away when you accused the Grand Mage of treason, remember?"

"Vaguely ..."

"You want my advice, Pleasant?"

"Not especially."

"Find a nice hole in the ground somewhere and lie in it. You're finished as a detective. You're done."

Wearing what he probably thought was a triumphant sneer, Crux, and the two Cleavers, entered the building.

"I don't like him," Valkyrie decided.

10

Two

***

Killer on the Loose

The Bentley parked in the rear of the closed-down Waxworks Museum, and Valkyrie followed Skulduggery inside. A thick layer of dust had collected on the few remaining wax figures who stood in the darkness. Valkyrie waited while Skulduggery searched the wall for the panel that opened the hidden door.

Idly, Valkyrie examined the wax figure of Phil Lynott, the lead singer from Thin Lizzy. It stood nearby, holding a bass guitar, and was actually a pretty good likeness. Her dad had been a big

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Thin Lizzy fan back in the 1970s, and whenever "Whiskey in the Jar" came on the radio, he'd still sing along, albeit tunelessly.

"The panel is gone," Skulduggery announced. "The moment we left, they must have changed the locks on us. I don't know whether to feel flattered or insulted."

"I get the feeling you're going to decide on flattered."

He shrugged. "It's a fuzzier feeling."

"So how do we get in?"

Someone tapped Valkyrie on the shoulder, and she yelped and leaped away.

"I am sorry," the wax figure of Phil Lynott said. "I did not mean to startle you."

She stared at it.

"I am the lock," it continued. "I open the door from this side of the wall. Do you have an appointment? "