"We have always been here. Since the first drawings upon cave walls, we have been here. We are the original witches and warlocks of old. We are the first to give a science to the paranormal. We took notes of the demons, of the spirits that dance upon this planet. We gave them names and marked out their customs and cycles.
"We dwell in the gap between the light and the darkness. We are the thin magic line that stitches this reality together.
"We are true detectives. We are masters of the occult."
The Dark Duke then took a golden candle from his pocket. Placed it on the tomb of the unknown occult detective and said. "This evening we bear witness to our fallen."
It was the custom that the newest occult detective would light the candle. Miss Black Cat stood up, straightens out her black leather outfit and walked to the front. In her hand she held a silver Zippo. She lit the candle and said. "We give peace to this fallen one, may their true name live on forever beyond this great mystery."
She then took a step forward and addressed the crowd. "I know we all can feel it. Hell is making plans. But I believe in my heart an art that together we can defeat the eternal." She then walked back to where she sat.
No one clapped.
The Dark Duke then said. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. May there be harmony on your way."
Then one by one everyone left.
Wraith quickly went outside hoping to catch a word with Iva but she had left in a hurry on her moped. Professor Nightshade tapped Wraith on the shoulder. He was a low run occult detective dealing mostly in manor hauntings and scared wealthy widowers. "I hear old boy that you had a rather nasty spat in Thornville cemetery a week or two back." He said in a rather too high upper-class voice. His grandfather had been a common *rag and bone man. "What was it all about if you don't mind me asking?" The professor's eyes grew intent as he lit a small French cigarette. "I heard it was to do with our friend down below?"
Wraith broke into the biggest smile he could make. "Oh, it was nothing professor. Just some very drunk pagans, desecrating some Christian graves."
Wraith then gave a laugh and slapped the professor on the back and said. "Mind you is there any such thing as a sober pagan."
They both laughed. They both knew he was lying. Wraith gave a nod then walked away back towards his car.
The Dark Duke was waiting for him. "Let's go for a ride, shall we?" His voice didn't sound old or distant anymore.
Now it sounded angry.
"Where shall we go?" Wraith asked as he opened his car door.
The Dark Duke lingered at the passenger door before saying. "Follow your heart. I find it always leads to the right place."
*A rag and bone man (sometimes referred to as a 'totter') was a person who either travelled by horse (or pony) and cart or in a van at a snail's pace down every neighbourhood street, looking to collect a wide range of materials to sell for a profit. The term seems to have been commonly used in the early to mid-1800s.