In one of the most bizarre cases Dublin Metropolitan Police have seen in recent years, a young man disappeared from his parents' home in Dublin County at approximately 11:30 last night, only to be found murdered in Ballyduff, County Kerry, at 11:57 PM. The question of how the nineteen year-old could possibly have traveled more than three hundred kilometers in half an hour is a mystery that is baffling law enforcers and crime analysts alike.

Autopsies indicate that the victim, Mick Cavanagh, was already dead of his injuries by the time he was brought to Corc Green and left in a utility shed, where his body was then discovered and reported by the park's afterhours caretaker.

Officials have found no suspects in the case, but forensics teams continue to search for leads. Cavanagh, whose father is employed as a gardening assistant, is the second person this week to be attacked while living on the grounds of Fowl Manor.

Norma Cornell, who worked as a maid, disappeared from the manor's grounds and was killed in a similar fashion just two days ago.

"There is definitely a distinct correlation between the two deaths. We think it's highly unlikely that the murders are coincidental," said Police Commissioner Geoffrey Mullins.

Artemis Fowl, 47 year-old businessman and owner of Fowl Manor, declined to comment on the attacks, but assured reporters that the family is "assisting police with investigations, and doing everything possible to prevent such a tragedy from reoccurring."

Thomas Brady

The Irish Times

Artemis Jr. massaged his temples, feeling a stress headache coming on. The journalists hadn't been so interested after Norma's death. But now it had been two murders in three days. What a nightmare.

The manor was in a state of panic. The family chef had quit this morning, along with Ross and Megan Cavanagh, who had moved to live closer to the rest of their family in the aftermath of their son's death, so Butler was filling in in the kitchen temporarily. As if the Fowls needed to be worrying about hiring household employees now, when they were up to their eyeballs in police investigators and local news reporters. Speculations about the "Fowl Manor Serial Killer" and scandalous newspaper articles making jokes about "murders most Fowl" were beginning to run rampant. Tension was high as the remaining manor employees waited with baited breath to see when and if there would be another attack.

The ancient grandfather clock began to chime the hour from five feet behind Artemis, startling him out of his brooding. Butler slipped quietly into the study and set a tea tray on the corner of Artemis' desk. The boy glanced up as he approached and Butler's eyebrows rose.

"Thank you," Artemis muttered.

"You're welcome. Are you feeling alright, Artemis? You look like you haven't sleep a wink."

Artemis rubbed his bloodshot eyes with his thumb and middle finger. "I'm fine. Bit of insomnia, is all."

Butler frowned, ever the mother hen. "Hm. So long as you're not coming down with anything. Why don't you go take a nap?"

Artemis sighed, leaned back from his desk and took a sip of tea. "I might." The bodyguard glanced at the open newspaper and knew the murders were weighing heavily on his mind, same as they were everyone else, but didn't know what he could say to make anything better, so the elephant in the room remained unmentioned.

In the past three days, Butler had changed the locks on all the doors and downstairs windows, updated the manor's security software, and spent many ultimately fruitless hours poring over surveillance tapes from the nights of the attacks. They had shown no sign of anyone lurking around the grounds. Though it was true that Artemis and Artemis alone was his responsibility, the bodyguard was beginning to feel frustrated with himself for allowing this to happen on the property he was meant to be guarding.

"Butler," said Artemis rather suddenly. "The lock on the window in my bedroom is broken."

Butler's eyes narrowed. "That's a problem. When did that happen?"

"I'm not positive. I only noticed this morning."

The big man stared at him. "I suppose it's kind of an old lock," he said slowly. "Do you think maybe it happened the last time you were latching it up?"

"No," said Artemis immediately, causing Butler to raise an eyebrow. Artemis stared at the carpet, trying to think back to when it was warm enough to have wanted the window open. "I highly doubt it," he amended. "It... You ought to see it. I can't fathom what happened to it. And, I..."

"And you...?" The look on the boy's face unnerved Butler. It wasn't often that Artemis Fowl was unable to fathom something.

Artemis grimaced. "Never mind. Here, I'll show you."

He had nearly told. Nearly. But this insane hunch of his had no merit. It was a silly nightmare, that was all. What was he going to do, go crying to Butler that he'd dreamed about a girl in his room, kissing his neck? He knew the reaction that would get. A teasing smile. A lecture. "You know, Master Artemis, when a boy reaches a certain age..." It seemed like such an innocent thing to dream. How could he possibly justify the horrible chills that had come over him, the prickling fear he'd felt lying in the dark, hours after he'd awakened?

Artemis' feet carried him to his room on autopilot, Butler close behind. It must have been Norma's murder, still bothering his subconscious. Any psychiatrist would agree that the past week's events were enough to give anyone unpleasant dreams.

They reached Artemis' bedroom and Butler experimentally slid the window in question up and down a few times. After a minute he closed it tightly, flipped the latch, and tried opening it again. The window opened without resistance. Frowning, Butler examined it more closely and found that the lock was not actually attached to the bottom of the window frame. There were four tiny holes where the screws holding the lock in place had been torn out.

"How in the name of-" He trailed off. "Are you sure this didn't happen last time you closed it?"

"You think I managed to open my window with such force that the lock was ripped straight from the wood?" said Artemis in slightly mocking tones.

Butler had to admit that it was unlikely. That frame wasn't going to rot away any time in the next century, and the lock had been installed no more than, what, eight years ago? "But you realize this had to have happened from the inside..." Butler ran his fingers over the sill and paused. "What happened here?" he said.

Artemis studied the spot he indicated. "What do you mean?"

"Here, feel this."

Artemis felt the spot for himself, and realized that eight extremely shallow indents ridged the polished wood. "I don't know." His words were clipped, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. He hated not having a clue what was going on. He had no recollection of doing anything that might have dented the windowsill. Slowly, he brushed the sill with his hand again, letting his fingers rest in four of the grooves. There was a pause in which Artemis and Butler knew they were both thinking the same thing: Impossible.

It was Butler who voiced this thought. "No one's fingers alone could have left those marks. You know that."

"Mm." Artemis' expression didn't change. He simply stared at his fingers - they were too large to properly fit the indents. "Butler, when you were reviewing the surveillance footage, did you by chance check the stills from the cinecamera over the main entrance?"

"I did. Just to be sure. Not a body in sight." Butler looked at his employer quizzically. "You suspect the fairies are killing off employees?"

Artemis sat down on his bed, fingers drumming on the duvet as he thought about it. "Perhaps. 'The question of how a nineteen year-old could have traveled three hundred kilometers in half an hour is a mystery baffling law enforcers and crime analysts alike,' after all," he quoted dully. "That would be one aspect of the mystery cleared up. Though I can't imagine what the People's motive in doing so might be."

"Intended to send a message of some sort?" Butler suggested. "Whoever it is is either totally inept at hiding bodies, or can't be bothered with covering his tracks. And if the latter's the case... well, that would be worrisome."

"Worrisome indeed," said Artemis to himself as the bodyguard turned to leave.

"I'll be in with a replacement in a little while." Butler hesitated when he reached the doorway. "Just the same, Artemis, I would prefer it if you didn't stay the night in here. There's something odd going on, and it can't hurt to be careful." His eyes were narrowed, as if he expected to meet with some contention from his charge. But Artemis only nodded.

"Very well," he said. "I will take up a guest room for the time being." Butler had no idea exactly how odd.

Artemis walked out to the main entrance and detached the high resolution camera that had sat, dutifully keeping watch over the shoulder of a stone cherub, ever since the Fowl Manor siege. When he returned with it to his bedroom he found Butler kneeling beside an open toolbox, busy drilling new holes to accommodate the new and advanced window lock that glinted on the floor beside him.

"May I ask where you're planning to set that up?" he said, spying the camera in the boy's hands.

"I was thinking the bookshelf would do nicely." Though he didn't fully understand his reasoning, Butler commended this security-conscious attitude. He gave an approving nod before returning to his work, and Artemis began setting up the camera to stream directly to his laptop, wishing that he had more than one. He wasn't fully satisfied with the result. The length of the room meant the camera could only see the window and half of the doorway, no matter what angle it recorded from, but until he could find the time to purchase another one, it would have to do.

Artemis leaned back in his seat and regarded his laptop with an air of readiness. If anything was going on in his bedroom tonight, this time he would know about it.