Lost Boys of London [EN]

Chapter 4 - Captain Hook

"When children died, he went part of the way with them,

so that they should not be frightened." 

- Peter Pan, JM Barrie - 

"All right, what do we have?" 
The gaze of the tall captain of the local police station, with the dark, midnight-black curls, settled on the constable, who stepped uneasily from one leg to the other. In his features was the restlessness of an investigator who was noticeably troubled by a case.

"Michael Darling, eight years old," began the lanky police Constable Smee to report. "The mother was in the living room when it happened. She found the boy hanged with his throat slit and his index finger missing." He explained as he stared at the scribbled writing on his notepad. "All the lights were out. The boy was hanging in front of the open window. He was supposed to look like he was flying, I guess. The mother didn't hear anything. There were no screams."

The captain nodded understandingly and let his eyes wander. The drawers of the wardrobe were open, and pieces of clothing were hanging out or scattered everywhere. Under the wide-open window lay a fallen teddy bear, and next to it...
"An acorn." his dark, smoky voice growled. The captain crouched down and looked at the small, unremarkable thing lying beside the stuffed animal.

"Just like the other four victims." Behind him, he heard Constable Smee flipping through notes and scratching graphite pencil on paper.

"That makes five." the investigator summed up, bitterness clogging his throat. A cold night wind blew in his face as he leaned out of the window frame. He examined the wooden ledge but found neither scratches nor traces of a climbing hook. There was no gutter outside to climb up either. Below him were only two floors, many feet of steeply sloping emptiness, and a smooth house wall. "No tracks and no climbing opportunities."

"As he could fly," whispered Smee behind him in a calm voice. The captain gave the misguided fool a shrewd look.

"Don't start with the crazy talk of the press!" he rumbled to his subordinate and turned. "Signs of a break-in?" he inquired, but the constable shook his head.

"The front door was locked, and when the woman screamed, the neighbors smashed the door open," Smee explained, and the captain wrinkled his lips. Just like in the homicide cases before. The press would pounce on this like scavengers. What would tomorrow's headline look like?

PAN FOOLS POLICE - FIVE MURDERS IN A ROW

Bloody hell! That damned London Times would again invent some scoop that would have people snatching the rags out of their hands.
Meanwhile, people were banging on the table and demanding that the case be solved, even though they had no clue or explanation as to how this cursed bastard managed to get into the children's rooms, on the bloody second floor of the houses, and then murdering them without a scream or a single sound!
The captain uttered a curse, stepped back from the window, and went to the ground floor. Maybe he could find a clue down in the alley. Somehow this blasted child murderer had to get up there.

Downstairs, despite the late hour, the street rats had gathered to gawk. Police officers tried to keep them at bay, but that only fueled their curiosity and the gossip.

"Captain James Hook?" A call came through the grumbling voices. The new Constable handed him a tied-up package. The rough paper was wrapped around a small object.

Hook's heartbeat quickened.

The first package three months ago had surprised him. Pan always left an acorn at the scene and took something from the boys... and never without reason. He had always opened the subsequent deliveries with a nauseous feeling because he knew what to expect inside.

Pan taunted them.

He was playing with them.