Book of Death: Book of Death Series Book 3
Book of Death: Book of Death Series Book 3
Book of Death: Book of Death Series Book 3

Book of Death: Book of Death Series Book 3

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Evil rises up from the depths…

To the world at large, Professor Marcus Mortlake is a brilliant academic and respected paranormal investigator. But his clean-cut, studious exterior hides a dark past. The tragic death of his mother still haunts him. And countless battles against supernatural evil have left their mark on his soul.

Now, he must prepare to face the power of darkness once more. The Book of Death, an ancient tome of horror, has left a trail of chaos and destruction in its wake. And Mortlake is determined to destroy this powerful artifact before it can cause any more harm.

His search leads him to the quaint town of Clongarron, a tiny hamlet on the coast of Ireland. At first, it seems like a peaceful little village. But something lurks in the dark, stormy waters just beyond the rocky cliffs. Something that has lingered for centuries. An unspeakable evil, aroused by the powers of the Book.

And unless Mortlake can stop it, the sea will run red with the blood of the innocent…

181 pages


Chapter 5

The Shadow Trust team went to the village in full documentary mode. They’d had a brief discussion, with Mortlake and Lynn a little hesitant to stroll into the middle of a police investigation. But Keegan had swung the debate with a straightforward argument.

“If we’re going to convince the locals we’re making a film, we can hardly fail to get something on this disappearance. It’s what they’d expect. Every doc has one—the ‘while we were filming’ bit.”

Since Keegan had to carry the Steadicam, the two professors walked ahead of the ebullient Scouser as he filmed them heading into Clongarron. A small police car marked GARDA was parked outside the village pub. A small knot of people was gathered around two officers—one man, one woman. The police were chatting in a relaxed way. Heads turned as the strangers approached. The male officer, who’d been leaning on the hood of the car, straightened up at once and looked confused. His female colleague walked a few paces to meet the team.

“Can I ask you what you’re doing?” she said, looking up at Mortlake with a smile, “Are you with RTE or some other lot?”

Mortlake recognized the name of the Irish equivalent of the BBC.

“If only,” he replied with a smile of his own. “No, we were here to make a documentary about local folklore and history. And this case… well, we could hardly overlook it, given the nature of the disappearance. But we won’t use any footage if people object.”

He purposely used the word “people” and not “you” to keep it ambiguous. As far as Mortlake was concerned, the police had no veto over anyone filming them, but he didn’t want to be confrontational. The local cops might prove valuable allies, and even if they weren’t, he didn’t like to alienate anyone in authority.

“Ah, a documentary, is it? For the BBC?” asked the male officer.

This began a short discussion of Mortlake’s position at Cambridge, with him emphasizing his professorship and academic honors. Keegan, however, chimed in with remarks about the paranormal.

“He’s a world-famous expert on ghosts and witches and that!” he called out from behind his viewfinder. “Don’t be modest, Prof!”

“Is that right?” said the woman cop.

Mortlake played down his activities in the realms of the occult, but Lynn joined with Keegan in extolling his triumphs.

“Werewolves, vampires, you name it, he’s given it a paddling.”

The officers seemed bemused, and there was some nudging and grinning among the villagers. But Keegan, Mortlake felt, had been right. People were almost always more willing to talk about the supernatural than mundane matters. Villagers who had looked distrustful before now seemed more positive.

It’s more comforting, in a way, he thought. Like children scaring themselves with campfire stories. It’s the people who’ve had truly bad experiences who never talk about them.

“I am naturally interested in anything… ahem… of that kind,” he conceded. “But I must emphasize we’re focusing on history and legend. I’m not spook hunting today.”

The cops seemed satisfied with this and moved on to asking the team a few questions.

“You arrived last night. Did you see anything out of the ordinary on the way here?” the male officer asked, an old-fashioned notebook in hand and pen poised.

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