Chapter 15

Hastily dressed and barely able to keep her eyes open, Poppy Pomfrey once again found herself in the passenger seat of a black vehicle. Derek Morgan was driving and they were, once again, headed for the morgue.

"I'm sorry for the early start," Morgan said, his eyes focused on the road, "but we have to do this quickly if we don't want people to find out."

Poppy nodded. She was tired, but her job meant that she was used to being woken up at ungodly hours and having to deal with an emergency straight away. And this definitely constituted an emergency. If someone had told Poppy that one day she would assisting an FBI investigation, she would've laughed and told them not to be ridiculous. How could someone like her be any use? But here she was and somehow she was coping. Maybe it was her medical background that made it easier for her to distance herself emotionally. She could shut herself off whenever it got in the way. Thinking of little Lucy Whithers dead made her want to cry, but she was not dealing with Lucy, she was dealing with a body and she had seen many bodies in her lifetime.

They pulled up at the morgue. It was still dark, the only light coming from one of the windows. Clearly, the secrecy situation was being taken very seriously. Morgan ushered Poppy inside and they made their way to examination room, where all three bodies had been laid out. Seeing them all together made Poppy feel slightly sick; it reminded her of slabs of meat being sold in rows at a butcher's store. She shook the image from her mind and began to set up her bag. The doors to room were pushed open and in walked an irritable looking Dr Crawley, his hair ruffled. He straightened his coat and went over to the tables.

"At four o'clock in the morning," he grumbled, "this had better be the most exciting thing I've ever seen."

"Is seeing me again not a good enough thrill?" Poppy said teasingly.

"Oh," Dr Crawley said flatly, "You've brought the consultant."

"Her services are still required," Morgan explained.

The doctor didn't look happy about it, but he made no more complaints. He pulled on some gloves and began to look over the bodies.

"The younger woman," he said after awhile, "shows the same wounds as the first victim; stabbing and bite marks. But, as opposed to the first victim, the stab wounds are more prominent. In this first instance, it's hard to say whether the bites or stabs would have killed her, but I would confidently say that the second victim was killed as a result of repetitive stabbing. What do you think?"

His last question was addressed at Poppy, who hadn't really been paying attention.

"You seem to be doing fine without my input," she said.

"Well, you're the consultant, aren't you?" Dr Crawley said, slightly patronizingly, "I thought I might consult."

"Right," Poppy said, giving him a small glare, "Yes, that all sounds correct in my opinion."

Morgan smirked and mouthed something that looked like "feminine charm". Poppy rolled her eyes and mouthed "too early".

"The other woman definitely died from her stab wounds," the doctor continued, "She has no injuries to suggest that she was bitten by anything. However, unlike the others, there is evidence of her being attacked. Her cheek has grazing on it and her skull appears to be fractured. This points to her having fallen and hit her head on the ground. Given the position of her wounds, I should say that she was attacked from behind. It doesn't look as if she struggled, so I should say she wasn't expecting it."

He looked over at Poppy, who said, "that would fit, yes."

"If you're just going to confirm my theories," Dr Crawley said, "what are you here for?"

Poppy, who could have quite a temper when she wanted to, wasn't going to take that lying down.

"Well, I'm not here to snapped at and talked down to!" she exclaimed, looking him directly in the eyes. "I'm not sure I appreciate your tone."

"And I'm not sure I appreciate someone coming into my space like they own it," Dr Crawley shot back. "If I'm not doing a good enough job, I'd prefer you to just tell me."

"Stop being so dramatic. No one doubts your medical skills," Poppy said curtly. "I'm sure you can be a fairly good doctor, when you're in a better mood."

"At this point in the morning," Dr Crawley said angrily, "this is my good mood!"

"Alright, let's all just calm down," Morgan yelled.

Dr Crawley looked slightly abashed, though far from apologetic. Poppy wasn't quite ready to stop arguing, but she did anyway. Both of them stood facing Morgan like school children who had just been caught brawling in the playground.

"I would like to know what is going on," Dr Crawley said, his voice calm and deliberate.

"I'm authorized to tell him," Morgan said to Poppy.

She shrugged, "go ahead. He's not going to believe you."

So Poppy began her own examinations, whilst Morgan attempted to explain the world of magic to the bewildered doctor. It took quite some time, as Morgan himself was still rather sketchy on the details. When he had finished, Dr Crawley shook his head, a smile of disbelief on his face.

"I'm not completely stupid," he said.

"Told you," Poppy said in a sing-song voice.

Morgan sighed, "Poppy, can you show him? Set the table on fire or something?"

"I'm not a show pony," Poppy said indignantly, "If he doesn't want to believe it, then that's his problem and not mine."

Dr Crawley seemed like he was about to retaliate, when he stopped, his eyes wide, staring at the table. Poppy followed his gaze and then gasped. The body of the mystery woman had begun to transform. Her back had arched, her legs shrinking. Her face begun to melt forwards. All over her body, thick, white-brown hair had begun to grow. Soon the creature that lay on the table was no longer a woman; it was a wolf.

"Agent Morgan," Poppy said slowly, "I think I just found the source of your bite marks."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked, completely in shock.

"I believe your killer, what's the phrase, has a partner."

"Correction," Dr Crawley said, his voice shaking, "Had a partner."