Black Magic Woman by Justin Gustainis

murder."
    "Oh, come on! Three kids butchered, all in the same exact way. Bodily organs removed and taken away, for God knows what purpose. And the free histamine level in the victims' blood shows that they were all alive when they were cut open, like fucking animals in a slaughterhouse! If that doesn't sound like ritual murder to you, pal, then maybe you better get back on—"
    Van Dreenan had held up one hand, palm toward Fenton, in an effort to stem the tirade.
    "Please, Agent Fenton, I did not wish to give insult to your intelligence. We are differing over a semantic distinction, although it is an important one."
    Van Dreenan leaned forward in his chair. "Please, if you would—define a ritual for me."
    A scowl remained on Fenton's face. "Look, I'm not going to play-"
    The hand went up again. It was not a peremptory gesture, such as a traffic cop would make, but rather a plea for peace.
    "I am not wasting your time with idle chatter, as you will soon see. For the moment, humor me, please. Now, then, what is a ritual?"
    Fenton took a deliberate deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked at Van Dreenan for a few seconds before saying, "A ritual is a prescribed action having symbolic value, carried out as part of a ceremony, to achieve some predetermined purpose. That do you?"
    "Full marks, Agent Fenton. That is good definition, and one that I agree with in all respects. Now, if you will indulge me just a little longer: what kind of ritual did these murders involve?"
    "That's the point! We don't know. I thought that's what you were here for."
    "Perhaps," Van Dreenan said. "Perhaps it is. But consider this question: if you do not know what kind of ritual was performed, how do you know there was any ritual involved at all?"
    Fenton just stared at him. Finally he said, "Victim profile was the same in each case: kids. Modus operandi was the same: isolated area, kid stripped and staked out on the ground, cut open while still alive, bodily organs removed. That's pretty much the textbook definition of ritual."
    Van Dreenan nodded. "In the psychological sense, yes. Any repetitive behavior can conceivably be considered ritualistic. But the religious meaning is somewhat different."
    "I'm not sure I see the distinction." Fenton didn't sound angry any more, just interested.
    Van Dreenan made a head gesture toward the desktop. "We have both read the files, ja? And seen the photos. So, tell me: were any occult or esoteric symbols found at or near any of the crime scenes?"
    Fenton didn't have to consult the files. "No."
    "Any evidence of candles, torches, or incense being burned?"
    "No, none."
    "Do we know how many people were present when these horrible acts took place?"
    "Hard to say for sure. The people who discovered the crime scenes tended to walk all over them before the police got there. Our best estimate is, two."
    "So, we have no symbolism, nothing burned, and the bare minimum of people necessary to do the deed. A strange kind of ritual, wouldn't you say?"
    Fenton shook his head in frustration. "So if it wasn't a ritual, then what the hell was it?"
    For the first time since he'd started talking, Van Dreenan seemed to hesitate.
    "Agent Fenton, have you ever heard of muti murder?"
    "Did you just say 'multi-murder?'" Fenton asked. "Multiple murders?"
    "No, I didn't," Van Dreenan told him. "Although it is true that the one sometimes leads to the other."
    "If you're trying to confuse the shit out of me, let the record show that you just succeeded," Fenton said.
    "My apologies, it was not my intent."
    Van Dreenan closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, as if trying to organize his thoughts. "Muti is derived from a Zulu word referring to a magic potion. That is why it is sometimes called medicine murder. You must remember that in many parts of Africa, magic and medicine are one and the same."
    "Just a bunch of ignorant niggers, running around with bones through their noses, huh?"
    Van Dreenan's eyes narrowed, although his voice remained