Humboldt lay naked in the back of the morgue's box wagon, with only a thin cloth shroud to protect him from the onset of an early freeze. The wagon's interior was both dark and cold as deep winter. The frigid evening air had robbed him of any warmth that he had managed to hold on to. He was cold in body as well as in heart. Revenge was the only thing keeping the fire deep within burning rage hot. The two mortuary attendants drove the wagon through the streets of Borden. Having exited the hospital grounds they turned right off Hospital Approach and into Halifax Avenue past the busy police station. From there Walter allowed the old nag to pull them straight and out of town. Patient but vengeful, Humboldt lay and waited as the wagon bounced its way over the cobbled streets. Once out of town they drove along the dirt tracks of the countryside for two further miles, and after what seemed to be an age of being jostled around they eventually came to a halt outside the sullen and overbearing walls of the prison.

Two large and neglected wooden gates swung in as a voice commanded them to enter. A sole guard stepped into view and with a single curt nod let them pass.

Unable to see a thing, all Humboldt could do was to lie, and listen as they passed by. The wagon trundled across the deserted and darkened courtyard, and up to the smaller gated archway that would give them access to the prison's inner sanctum.

Walter piped up, 'Leonard, you in there mate, I got a delivery for Doc Vic.'

Peter reached down and handed a bottle of Whiskey to the approaching prison Officer. It was the usual coin to grease the way for his visits to his brother during unusual hours. Officer Grunch liked cheap liquor and liked free liquor even more.

Leonard tipped his head 'I'll get one of the boys to fetch him down for ya, Pete. And I'll have a cuppa waiting for you with a nice toddy to go with it, Walt.' he said shaking his newly acquired tipple at Walter. Standing back and opening the gates, he let them through. Returning to the warmth of his Guard house Grunch greedily began to pry the cork from the neck of the bottle.

Walter guided the horse around to the rear of Cell block A, where they came to rest by a shallow ramp way that dropped down to a set of double doors. Each of the battered and scarred doors possessed a large brass ringed handle that, over time had tarnished and blackened until all traces of its yellow metal had vanished from sight.

Lifting out the first stretchered body, the two Morguers made their way down the ramp and into the realm of the neurotic doctor. Stumbling backwards Peter fumed at Walter, 'What's the hurry? Slow down. The next stiff you're walking backwards.'

Inside the Doctor's brightly lit laboratory the two men placed the second stretchered body down onto a sturdy wooden trolley that the doctor had rolled over to the side of the first.

Shaking Victor's hand, Walter said 'There you go, Doc, two of em. Keep you busy for a while.' Peter shivered at the thought of the two of them cutting meat. Without pause he turned and stepped back through the doors. Making his way up the ramp and into the cold dusk, he thought to himself, you mean keep the two of you blood thirsty bastards busy, freaks.

Victor's pact with Governor Henry sealed, Doctor Gently had converted the prison's basement and cold stores into his own personal laboratory and mortuary. Quickly Stocking and equipping them, it hadn't taken him long to dissect his first guest, soon to be followed by many more of the gallows' residents.

Victor beckoned Walter over to the workbench that he had been busily working at. Eagerly the morgue attendant strolled over to find that the Doctor had carefully pinned a fist sized red organ to a dissection board and had made several delicate incisions, peeling back a section to reveal its internal structure.

'Well, what do you make of that Walter, my dear boy?' Victor asked motioning towards the specimen. Walter studied the gelatinous tissue for a while. It seemed similar to the liver, but its shape and colour were not quite right. He had no idea what it was or from what part of the body it came. Unable to admit his ignorance, Walter walked his mind through the body's organs that he knew of and was familiar with until he came to several he had read about but hadn't as yet gotten his hands on. From these he tried to remember their general color and descriptions. Finally he discarded the last but one of the remaining candidates, and with a triumphant grin announced loudly.

'Spleen, it has to be the spleen.'

Victor nodded enthusiastically, 'Yes, well done. It's a spleen. Actually this is the spleen of a young blonde haired girl that lived not too far away from here. I believe you know of her, Rebecca Messingham was her name.' Victor watched Walter for a reaction.

Walter asked cautiously. 'Doesn't sound familiar, what makes you think I would know her?'

'I'm glad you ask.' Victor said as he continued to dissect the specimen spleen. Walter watched over Victor's shoulder, his hand in his pocket, playing with the handle of his whittle knife.

'You see, Walter, I'm the stand in coroner for this region. If ever Doctor Ensgrave is on leave, as he is at the moment due to ill health, then I step in. This is what I did two days ago. Firstly I was called upon to deal with the tragic murder of the Governor's wife and these two here. As you must know, poor Jessica Newhart was stabbed to death. Her unsuccessful protector over there suffered a fatal disemboweling. Their murderer under that cloth sustained two close range gunshots to the chest killing him instantly. Also, I forget, there was her butler who no longer has much of a head. These murders were plain to read and I had no reason to perform autopsies, just paperwork. But as I was about to leave, the mortuary doors were flung open and in rolled Rebecca Messingham. Murdered about a week earlier and dumped out by the steelworks. On examination, beneath her bloodied clothing I found that her right breast had been removed. Her abdomen had been cut open and her kidneys and a single liver removed. Expertly I might add.' He pointed down at the specimen spleen.

Victor said, 'The spleen I removed.'

With a slight grin fighting at the corners of his mouth, Walter shrugged his shoulders 'Your point being?'

With a look of disappointment the doctor looked at Walter as a father would to his mischievous son.

'Walter if you feel the need to practice the procedures that I have shown you here, then by all means do so, but please perform them correctly. You see, as I examined her I could see that the girl's throat had been cut cleanly and her liver and kidneys had been removed cleanly and precisely, well done. You removed the breast adequately, but a little more patience would have given you better control over the scalpel. But saying this, I was very disappointed in your clumsy attempt at her Laparotomy. Instead you cut her open like a fish monger. I prefer a Y incision. I would have settled for lateral incisions. But a curved swish, tut tut. The shape of the letter J, I presume. Flamboyance is not the mark of a professional, Walter. I don't know, what were you thinking?'

Walter quietly listened to everything the doctor had to say, his smile spreading even wider across his face. Victor finished talking and shook his head, dispensing the frustration he felt with his pupil's failure. Walter couldn't help but smile freely, almost gloating at the knowledge that his misbehavior was known to Victor.

'Ah, doctor, how could you possibly know that this unfortunate girl was killed by me? I have made no mention of intent to perform any procedures outside your Laboratory.' Walter played along, enjoying the game.

Victor returned the warm smile. As Walter, Victor had no misgivings about the subject matter.

'You will find as you progress through your studies and on into surgical training, that each and every procedure has a very specific pattern of incisions. In Order to perfect these procedures you must learn and perfect these patterns. But with every performance you will cultivate a unique style of your own. Just as every surgeon has done before you. Even as inexperienced as you are, you still have the beginnings of a style all of your own, that is how I know that this fishmongery was yours.'

Before saying another word Walter weighed up the doctor, deciding whether he posed a threat. Thinking to himself, I should kill you now, but you're not bothered about the murder are you, just the imperfection of my technique. You're just like me.

'You've got me, Doc. So you don't like my calling card. What do you intend to do now?'

Victor raised a scalpel and pointed at Walter 'Do? I intend to show you the proper way to incise the abdomen, that's what I intend to do, but not today. You may have heard the Governor has suffered a tragedy and now has the misfortune at having had his son kidnapped. I have to go and attend to other matters regarding him.'

Walter clapped a hand tightly on Victor's shoulder, a show of trust between the two men 'OK, Doc, soon though. The position I applied for down in London came my way. It seems that a respected physician from my hometown put a good word in for me.' With a cheeky wink Walter walked towards the double doors to leave, but was stopped by Victor calling over to him.

'On your way out why don't you help yourself to a new leather apron and several jars of Alcohol solution? Oh, and take the Arsenical salts. Good for preserving body parts and such. I no longer need them. I use a new chemical called formaldehyde for preservation now. Oh, and one last thing, Walter. This girl was pretty, beautiful you could say. Next time, if there is going to be a next time, please take a less desirable one.' Victor smiled and turned his attention back to the dissected spleen. Victor didn't like to say, but he saw a lot of himself in young Walter. Although the boy was only fifteen years his junior he still liked to think of the 46 year old man as a son, of sorts.

Walter was a little surprised at the doctor's acceptance of his extra activities. He didn't quite know what to say, so he tipped his imaginary hat and collected the proffered embalming chemicals and equipment and made his way up the ramp and out into the night.

Humboldt couldn't believe what he had just heard. A cold blooded murderer had confessed his gruesome crime and the doctor had not only accepted it and covered it up, but had offered criticism and tips on how his mutilation of the poor girl could have been carried out more professionally. Numbed beyond the pain of cold, Humboldt couldn't deal with that right now. He waited until he was sure that Walter was not going return and the Doctor was fully engrossed in his latest experiment before he dared to move. Slowly he drew back the shroud so he could see what lay in front of him. First, to his left he saw the trolley bearing the body of Bob Coal, and the empty bench he had expected to see the doctor sitting at. This to his surprise was empty. Swiveling his head to his right he looked to the other side of the room where he could see two large oak doors. To their left a storage area full of jars of various sizes, some empty, others containing organs and body parts suspended in a translucent brown liquid. Further over to the left stood an open smaller door. But nowhere could he see the doctor. Sitting up he let his legs swing down and the thin cloth settle across his lap. Before Humboldt could react, Victor entered the laboratory through the smaller door. He carried a bundle of clothes, a spare set that he kept in the lab for the common occasion he spent the entire night performing his experiments. Looking over at the risen body of the supposedly dead murderer, Victor didn't seem to be surprised in the slightest, but actually seemed pleased at what he saw.

He greeted the risen cadaver 'Well I'll be damned. Do my eyes deceive me?' he chuckled, 'I must admit I'm surprised you managed to lie there for so long. You must be freezing. Here put these on whilst I make you something hot to drink.' Victor placed the clothes besides him on the trolley and walked over to the far corner where a small stove sat and placed a kettle on its single hot plate. Throwing more wood into its belly, he closed the stove's small iron door before turning to the deceased man.

Victor patiently waited in silence as Humboldt dressed 'I'm sorry but I don't have a spare set of shoes. My wellington boots will have to do.' Victor pointed over to the sink, below which sat a pair of worn long black leather riding boots.

Humboldt shouldn't have been shocked at Victor's lack of surprise and reaction, monsters very rarely were. But he couldn't fathom out why the doctor seemed to be expecting him, after all he had been declared dead by the doctor himself. 'You aren't afraid or surprised to see the dead rise, doctor? Why would that be I wonder?' Humboldt asked.

'Aah yes. You see, Stamford. Oh, sorry, its Humboldt isn't it? Well, you see, Humboldt, Henry has a letter that you yourself sent to your dear Jessica declaring the find of a lifetime. A jewel that held back the sands of time as it were. Surely a remarkable object if such a thing did in fact exist. Henry believed immediately everything you had written. So, as soon as he had you in his clutches he had me attempt to get you to divulge the jewel's location. Well that didn't work did it? I must say, I was mightily impressed when Henry told me where you had it hidden all this time, mightily impressed. I must admit I did not believe that this item and its mystic power existed. I thought it was just the ramblings of a soldier driven mad in the blazing heat of the desert. And as for Henry.....well, he has been a little frail of mind for a while now. And then you rolled up onto the mortuary slab with two bullets in your chest. On examination I was confused as to why the wounds you sustained seemed to have begun to heal ever so slightly. I was very tired by the time I had to deal with your corpse, so I put this little mystery down to fatigue and left it at that, just tiredness. After all you were dead weren't you? I mean, I detected neither breath nor pulse. Later, having rested a while I began to ponder this mystery. Then I remembered the letter that Henry had been so fixated on for so long. As absurd and impossibly ridiculous as it seemed I began to wonder, what if you did indeed have the power to rise from the dead.

Knowing of your three way tryst, it seemed logical to me that as Henry had Jessica killed and then went on to kill you also, you would rise and seek revenge, and as Henry has been here at the prison ever since, you would find your way here, or hereabouts. So the question is Humboldt, what do you intend to do? And as a survivor, what can I do to help you, hmm?'

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