File # 0090099
Status - Pending
Suspect Legal Name - Unknown
Alias(es) - The Gargoyle of Paridon, The Hands of Stone, The Black Beast of Langston Heights, The Midnight Horror, The Foolkiller.
Physical Profile - The reports that my office has compiled and sorted on the particulars of this criminal’s visual attributes are contradictory for the most part. I have therefore decided to ignore these discrepancies in an effort to advance our cause and concentrate on what may serve as fact. There are three certainties about this villain that has committed no fewer than 5 murders in the past year; he is unnaturally large-bodied, possesses phenomenal strength and speed, and an almost supernatural awareness. From first-hand experience I can confirm this. Second of all, it is terribly resistant to physical stress and perhaps even impervious to bullets and knives, although those features remain thankfully unverified. Third, it cannot be reasoned with or deterred from its targets under any circumstances.
Behavioral Profile - My constables have suggested that this creature is being directed or influenced by some greater intellect from the shadows. I do not concur with this hypothesis. While the thing might have a master, it has demonstrated in all three of our brief encounters that it has a thinking, calculating and cunning mind. I am in fact the only person at this time that believes the Gargoyle to be a man dispite all of his unusual characteristics. Something about the way he operates, the way he stalks his victims that has me convinced of his humanity. In addition, I am of the belief that this man is possessed with a extraordinary knowledge of human behavior. He likes to play games with his victims; all of his crimes have to them a singular and nefarious quality most often found in habit-killers, the types that operate with method and calculation. I have yet to discover the precise equation of its evil.
Historical - The Gargoyle, as we will refer to him for simplicity sake, has been a blight on the Langston-West End for over 5 years now. Its first confirmed offense was registered by then-acting Inspector Truant Archibald of the Eastern Shore Constabulary. The victim was one Urquail Caledon Esquire, nominee to the House of Lords and the owner of the finest stables in all Paridon. The circumstances of his demise seemed routine at first glance, and had been assumed to be the result of a street mugging gone from bad to worse. The detail that had eluded the otherwise capable Inspector at the time, were the contents of the victim’s pockets; large handfuls of rose thorns and a pocket watch with a missing minute-hand. The timepiece had been set exactly to the hour of 3, which as supported by numerous qualified scholars, is known as the Witching Hour, a superstitiously regarded time when the “powers of darkness” are said to exhibit their influence in the world of mortals. This is of course pure rubbish, but it has been my experience that these absurd occult beliefs are central to the twisted philosophies of many criminals. Villainous types are not without an appreciation of ghost tales and melodrama, it would seem.
The discovery of these peculiar items led Inspector Archibald to create a special dossier dedicated to “crimes of a peculiar sort”, and because of the tremendous foresight on his behalf, I am today able to create a more complete portrait of our suspect. It was later surmised by our new behavioral specialist that the rose thorns were meant as a metaphor to illustrate the fact that Urquail Caledon Esquire had become a “thorn” in the side of his enemies and the watch, that his “hour” had come. I would find numerous versions of this message over the course of my residency as Constable, Adjudant and Inspector. This “calling card”, coupled with a few rare witness accounts and my own experiences supplied the remaining clues that were necessary to shed light on the one responsible for these heinous crimes.
I currently count 17 total offenses by the Gargoyle in his 5-year reign of terror. Victims have ranged from distinguished gentlemen to entrepreneurs, scholars, officials and even in one ghastly case, a clergyman from the Temple of Divinity. I have not found any precise correlation or pattern between these assassinations, but I have been able to construct an outline sufficiently accurate to perhaps allow me and my constables to apprehend the Gargoyle at the next opportunity. I believe this opportunity is approaching and that through my personal investigations, I have derived the identity of the Gargoyle’s next target. It remains to be seen if my men and I are up to the task of ending once and for all its reign of terror over our noble populace.
Disclaimers&Notes - The Gargoyle is not, by any means at all, to be confronted or obstructed without the assistance of the Constabulary, or adequate armed support. The suspect is dangerous and should be considered a lethal element despite its history of leaving witnesses and by-standers uninjured. If spotted, even law-enforcement officials should call for assistance and not attempt to intervene in any way.
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I will never forget the look on the Inspector’s chiseled face when my hands wrapped around his shoulders as he was penning the closing notes to his little profile on me. I must admit that I felt somewhat awash with pride from the flattery contained within this document. A pity that I did not have the time to pocket all of it when the reinforcements burst through the office door and forced me to beat a hasty retreat through the nearest window in my accustomed dramatic style. I still wonder to this day if our good Inspector Blackmoore had really discovered the identity of my next “victim”, as he said it. I am certain the the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on the poor chap. In fact I recall a certain stoic, befuddled look in his tearing eyes as I pinned him against his office wall; the look of a man drowning in the tides of dreadful realization. He had sealed his own fate by having so adamantly pursued me and my keepers during all those months. A clever chap that one, too clever and noble for his own good. I remember foolishly attempting to dissuade my masters from ordering his violent removal from office; I pleaded father to reconsider, to see Blackmoore for what he could have been to our cause: an invaluable asset. Alas, as with all foolish men, my keepers only saw him as a threat to the Circle. They thought Blackmoore would stick his nose far enough to pierce their valuable shroud of secrecy, and unravel the whole thing into damnation.
I killed Blackmoore by asphyxiation, at least it had been my intended method. The untimely intervention by his deputies forced me to leave the job unfinished, and instead of the cold release of death, our unfortunate Inspector ended his days in a sanatorium, mostly devoid of his mental faculties due to the lack of air to his brain (or so It was diagnosed). I visited Blackmoore often in the late hours of the night, perched from the sanatorium windows I spent many hours observing him, pitying him, damning myself even for having allowed my keepers to make me their instrument of humiliation and torture. You were an exemplary man Ashton Blackmoore, a man of character, of intelligence, of sharp intellect. My crimes against you, I thoroughly trust, will not go unpunished come the dark day of my judgement.
Rest in Peace Inspector…