Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to update. I've been extremely slack on my stories.

Chapter 3: The Banker, the Businessman and the Butterfly

Amelia pushed open the cover of the document and began to scan the words inside.

"Middle aged man," she read, "found dead two blocks away from Diagon Alley. Identified as Fredrick Bartholomew, owner of "Bartholomew's Buckets and Bristles; The Best Magical Cleaning Supplies Around""

"If I was in that business, I might kill myself too!" Frank said.

Gideon swung his chair around.

"He was murdered," the wizard muttered, "I remember hearing about it from Mitchell Williams."

"Mitchie Williams is a rookie!" Fabian exclaimed, "Why are we getting saddled with newbie work?"

Amelia ignored him, though a similar thought had crossed her mind. Deaths that were given to younger, newer members of the Auror office were usually deemed to be less important, which sounded terrible, but the current climate meant that a mugging gone wrong was less of a priority than something that might connect back to Lord Voldemort. Amelia flicked through some of the pages.

"There's more," she said, her brow furrowing, "two more. A Gringotts' banker named Kieran Swann and a girl who has not been identified. Swann was found about eight blocks away from Bartholomew and the girl was on the other side of the river. There are photographs."

There were quite a number of photographs, of different things from different angles, but Amelia found three that showed most of the victims. She placed them out in a line on her desk, so everyone could see. The first photo was of Bartholomew. He was a large man, in width but not in height. His hair was brown and close shaved, receding back from his forehead. His face was pear shaped, large, flabby cheeks going into a rather pointed head. He lay on his stomach, sprawled on the concrete, his arm sticking out. Small, round glasses were on his nose, lopsided, giving him a rather comical appearance. His wand had snapped and was in pieces beside him. The second photo was of Swann. He was well built, but it appeared to be muscle as opposed to fat. He had dark skin and light brown eyes, that stared out, his face stuck in a serious expression. He too lay on his stomach, his briefcase underneath him, his watch shattered from his attack. The third picture was of the girl. She was tiny and extremely pale, her face looking almost skeletal. Her hair was black and curly, the ringlets swept up into a rather haphazard ponytail. She wore a dress that was much too big and heeled shoes that were worn on the soles. She was on her side, her head resting against her arm in mocking serenity. Her arm was outstretched and on her wrist was a tattoo; the black outline of a butterfly. Three victims, all different ages and appearances.

"So what's the connection?" Frank asked, voicing what everybody else was thinking.

"Nothing that obvious," Amelia said slowly as she analyzed the reports, "No signs of injury on any of them."

"Killing curse," Fabian said with a sigh, "Not that surprising."

"Hmm," Amelia agreed.

She turned a page lazily and then quickly flipped it back, straightening up a little.

"Hang on," she said, "All these case were investigated by Mitchell Williams."

The same signature had signed of at the bottom of the pages and the handwritten notes were all written in the same messy scrawl.

"Is that the only running theme?" Fabian asked, rolling his chair over and grabbing the paper from Amelia's hands.

"I'm guessing not," Amelia replied, giving him a disapproving look, "Mitchie must have connected them all somehow. Dolores, could you go and see if we can bring him over here?"

Dolores nodded and went off down the isle of cubicles, her heels clicking as she did so. Amelia turned back to her desk and spread out the other photos. There was a close up of the butterfly tattoo, which she picked up to get a better look. There were three dots around it, set out like a triangle. They weren't immediately obvious, but could be seen quite clearly once noticed. They looked almost like the prick from a needle. Amelia was about to point them out when Gideon said, "there's something written on the back of that photograph."

Amelia flipped it over. Mitchell Williams' handwriting had left a few words in the top corner; it was a name.

"Darius Finch," Amelia read out loud, "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"Oh everybody's heard of Ol' Darius," Frank said, "He's a small time criminal, pops up in records everywhere."

"Really?" Amelia raised an eyebrow, "And now he's popping up in our case. Since you know so much about him, Frank, maybe you would kind enough to head down to the record room and bring back his. I want to know why Mitchie was interested."

"Couldn't you just ask him when he gets here?" Frank moaned.

Amelia narrowed her eyes.

"Your wife is just down the hall, Longbottom. Do you want me to call her?"

Slightly begrudgingly, Frank stood up and went off to fetch the records. He showed reluctance, but Amelia knew he was just winding her up. Despite surface appearances, her team were all extremely dedicated.

A few minutes after he had left, Dolores returned, slightly out of breath. She had a worried look on her face.

"Mitchell Williams is in hospital!" she puffed, "The Spell Damage ward at St Mungo's. He was admitted yesterday."

There was a collective gasp and some angry muttering from all the Aurors in the cubicle. Mitchie Williams was a well known and well liked wizard with a promising career in magical law enforcement; he had many friends and people who sang his praises, including Amelia who had done some training work with him when he first joined.

"What exactly happened?" Gideon asked, his voice grave.

Dolores sat down and all seats were turned to face her.

"They found him dumped in an alley somewhere, after he'd failed to report in," she said, "He was cursed. According to Vera, the receptionist for Mr Crouch, he's lucky to be alive."

There was a silence as this news sunk in. If Mitchie's attack was linked to his involvement in any of the three cases, then things were much more serious than first thought. Frank came back and he picked up on the mood straight away.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly.

"Mitchie Williams has been cursed," Fabian said bitterly, "It seems he got into something dangerous."

"Well that figures," Frank said, sitting down, "if he was involved with Darius Finch. It seems our small time criminal is not so small time after all. Recently he's branched out into extortion, blackmail, prostitution, drugs. You name it and Finch has tried it."

Drugs. Amelia's mind was brought back to the marks on the mystery girl's wrist. Perhaps that was why Finch's name had been written on the back. If he was supplying her with drugs, then that could've been part of the reason for her death. Perhaps Frank saw the movement of her eyes because he wasn't finished there.

"He's connected to our girl alright," Frank continued, "The women that he, ah, sells, get branded when they start to work for him, stops them moving off to another guy. Guess what Darius uses as his symbol?"

"Black butterfly," Fabian said, moving the photo closer to him, "So she's a prostitute."

"He operates out of Knockturn Alley," Frank said, "which we all know isn't the safest of places, especially at the moment."

Amelia looked at all the photographs and papers again, trying to make sense of it all. Mitchie, she thought, what have you gotten yourself into? It was time to make an action plan.

"We'll start with the girl," Amelia said, "It's going to be a whole lot easier if we can get a positive I.D. We're all going down; there's no way I'm taking chances if I don't have to."

"Do you think it's Death Eater related?" Fabian whispered to her, as everyone was standing up and preparing to leave.

Amelia slipped on her coat and shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but I'd rather be prepared for everything, than caught unawares when the worst happens."