"Of course not," I said, keeping most of the sarcasm out of my voice.

  Castle went on as if I hadn't spoken. "However, there are certain… sources of information available to me which you might not find readily accessible."

  "Other than the fact that the witches didn't know each other, what have these sources had to say?" I asked him.

  Castle studied his hands for a moment. I couldn't see the pentagram tattoo on his palm from where I sat, but I knew it was there.

  "So far, nothing of value. I find it most frustrating, especially since another of these terrible attacks could occur at any time."

  "Is it possible somebody's holding out on you?" Karl asked.

  "Oh, no, Detective. I doubt that very much. The word has gone out that any useful information about this matter will be amply rewarded. And the corollary, also."

  I frowned at him. "Corollary?"

  "Simply that if any member of the community keeps such valuable knowledge to himself, the consequences will be… severe."

  Something in Castle's face made me not want to ask what "severe" might entail.

  "You said there were two items you wished to discuss with me, Sergeant," Castle said. "May I know the other one?"

  "All right," I said. "Somebody's out there making, and selling, snuff films."

  Castle's eyebrows climbed toward what was left of his hairline, like caterpillars scaling a wall. "I thought such things were myths, invented by the religious right to justify censorship of all mass media."

  "That may have been true once," I said, "but not any longer. These are the real deal. Detective Renfer and I had to sit through one, and the FBI says there are at least three more in circulation."

  Castle looked from me to Karl and back again. He took his time about it. "I assume you are telling me about this because there's some connection to the supernatural world?"

  "You assume right," I said, and told him about the videos – as well as their Scranton connection.

  He listened with what I can only call morbid fascination, elbows on knees and fingers tented under his nose. When he'd finished he dropped his hands and sat back. "Ye gods," he said softly. "Just when I thought I understood the depths of savagery that humanity was capable of…" He shook his head, as if to drive out the images that I'd planted there.

  "The real savagery isn't being committed by humans," I said. Maybe I was feeling a little defensive. "The demon is the one who does the butcher's work."

  "Yes, I understand that," Castle said. "And I'm no fan of demons, believe me. Nasty things. But permit me a hypothetical example, Sergeant. Let's say that someone were cruel enough to toss a live infant into the tiger's cage at the zoo. Who would you hold responsible for the ensuing tragedy? Not the tiger who, after all, was merely acting like a tiger. You would, quite properly, blame the individual who put the two of them in proximity – right?"

  "OK, you've made your point," I said. "But the demon isn't being conjured and controlled by Sam the barber, or somebody. The one doing that is a wizard."

  "Quite right," Castle said. "In this matter, it would seem, there is plenty of blame to go around."

  "I'm less interested in moral discussions," I said, "than I am in nailing the fuckers who are doing this. At least one of the victims was a local boy."

  "Mister Hudzinski," Castle said.

  "That's him," Karl said.

  "We live in a highly mobile culture, as you know," Castle said. "It's entirely possible that Mister Hudzinski, although a citizen of our fair city, fell into his misfortune a long way from home."

  "If he did, we'll know it soon enough," I told him. "There are detectives digging into every detail of the guy's life, even as we speak. But for now, I'm going on the assumption that he was killed locally. And there's something else for you to think about."

  Castle raised his eyebrows politely, but said nothing.

  "If one of these videos was made locally, then they all were." I explained how the physical layout of the killing ground was the same in all four of the snuff films. "The camera angles are identical, too," I said. "The cameras are on tripods, and it doesn't look as if they're moved from one of these atrocities to the next."

  Castle thought about that. "Even if Hudzinski disappeared locally, that doesn't mean he was killed here. Most car trunks contain ample room for a body, either living or dead."

  And I bet you'd know, I thought.

  "That's stupid," Karl said, which earned him a glare from Castle. I don't know if the Supefather was pissed at being talked to that way by a cop, or by a cop who was also a fellow supe.

  "It makes no sense," Karl went on, "for them to transport a prisoner from Scranton to, say New York. There are lots of risks, haina? You could get pulled over for a busted tail light, or the guy could escape somehow. Hell, he might even die on you along the way. It's too complicated."

  "He's right," I said. "If they wanted to film their fucking torture sessions in New York, or even Altoona, it'd be a lot simpler just to grab a couple of guys in those local areas."

  Castle made a small gesture acknowledging defeat, which I thought was gracious of him. "All right," he said, "for the sake of discussion, let's posit that all of this 'torture porn' is being made locally. What do you want from me?"

  "Names," I said. "That's what I want. If this stuff is being filmed around here, there's two possibilities. One is that the wizard doing the conjuring is from outside the area and came to town fairly recently. You know of anybody like that?"

  Castle shook his big head slowly. "No one comes to mind. He wouldn't be required to check in with me upon arrival, but any practitioner who expected to remain in this community would probably have the good manners – and the good sense – to pay a courtesy call."

  "The first of these videos was made while Vollman was still alive," Karl said. "Maybe the wizard checked in with him."