her husband, the demon Pazuzu, who was invoked to make Lamashtu go away.
“Upon its discovery, however, the artifact was originally thought to have represented the Babylonian goddess Eresh-kigal on her journey through the underworld. The lion-headed figure at the top was thus believed to be the Babylonian god Nergal, Lord of the Underworld and Ereshkigal’s husband. Some scholars still cling to this original notion, and thus it is Nergal to whom I ’d like to draw your attention. Next slide, please.”
A drawing of a winged, sphinxlike figure with a long-bearded human head labeled
“In some manifestations, Nergal is often portrayed an-thropomorphically—with a man’s head and the body of a winged lion. Next slide, please.”
Another drawing, from a stone tablet, with a lion-headed deity between two other gods—a procession of some kind, in which one of the more human-looking gods holds a long spear. Markham could feel the agents lean forward.
“In this case,” Markham said, “the portrayal is reversed, more Egyptian, and we see Nergal with the head of a lion, wings, and the body of a man. I’ll hold off on commenting on the long spear for now. But, in addition to presiding over the Underworld, Nergal appears in his early manifestations to have been a solar deity, as well as a god of war and pestilence. He also became associated with the destruction brought on by the summer solstice, the dead season in the Mesopotamian planting cycle, and was often referred to as the Raging Prince. His main center of worship in Ancient Babylonia was the city of Kutha, now known as the archaeological site Tel Ibrahim in Iraq.
“Like the Ancient Egyptians, lions and lionlike gods figured prominently in Ancient Babylonian mythology. Indeed, many scholars specifically trace Nergal’s mutation throughout nearly all Middle Eastern religions, including Judaism, in which he was first identified with Satan, only later on to be demoted to one of Satan’s demons. In fact, Nergal is mentioned by name in the Bible’s Second Book of Kings.
“However,” Markham continued, “given the obscurity of the god Nergal in the collective consciousness, Schaap and I were somewhat skeptical until our classical studies expert convinced us that only Nergal could give us the through-line we were looking for. Many scholars argue that the ancient Greeks adapted Nergal into Ares, their god of war—better known as the Roman Mars—and associated him with the red planet just as the Assyrians did when they assimilated Ner-gal into their culture. Furthermore, our man at NC State went on to tell us that scholars believe the cult at Kutha followed an annual worship cycle of Nergal in the spring to ensure a bountiful harvest and to pacify the god into showing them some mercy during the summer.”
“The spring,” said Big Joe Connelly. “The return of Leo to the nighttime sky.”
“That’s right,” said Markham. “And so we too must come back to Leo.”
The screen wiped into a complex astronomy chart.
“Now,” Markham said, “upon closer examination of Leo and its pattern across the sky from winter into spring into summer, Schaap and I found something interesting. If you look carefully at the chart on the screen, you’ll notice the sun gets progressively closer to appearing in Leo until it enters the constellation around the middle of August. The summer solstice, the very moment when Nergal is said to wreak havoc on mankind, occurs on June 21st this year. Since the hottest of the Mesopotamian months are July and August, that the sun and Leo should be connected at this time is only fitting. You’ll remember, scholars believe Nergal in his early Babylonian manifestation was a solar deity. However—next slide, please.”
A close-up of Mars in the constellation Leo with the dates
“If you look at the trajectory of Mars, that very planet that the Ancient Assyrian astronomers came to identify with Nergal himself, you’ll see that this year Mars, the god of war, will appear in the constellation Leo at the height of the summer solstice. Mars transits Leo only once every two years.
“If one were to look at the current progression of Mars toward Leo in conjunction with how the murders have progressed in methodological detail, it opens up the possibility that, in the Impaler’s mind, he and Nergal are progressing toward each other, too. Perhaps the Impaler is trying to join with the god. Or more likely, in my opinion, perhaps he sees himself as a sort of Leo Minor, progressing with him toward his return. Leo consists of nine stars, Leo Minor is often represented by only three. Both return to the springtime sky at roughly the same time. And since the gravestone I discovered at Willow Brook is both plural and directly west of the spot at which Rodriguez and Guerrera were sacrificed, perhaps our boy sees himself as a servant to Nergal, a right-hand man, if you will, facilitating his return—which, of course, will all go down during the summer solstice. Now, what exactly will happen when Nergal returns? Well, your guess is as good as mine at this point. Clear slides for questions, please.”
Silence, everyone thinking—some confused, some disbelieving.
“You really think the Impaler could’ve made all these connections?” Mr. Spock asked finally.
“Yes, I do,” Markham said. “After all, when you look at the bigger picture from the Impaler’s point of view, it’s all about connections, isn’t it? What is a constellation if nothing more than a primitive game of connect the dots? Singularly, the stars don’t make sense. One must see them in relation to one another in order for the picture to come into focus. I have a feeling our boy looks for dots everywhere; messages that he connects to what he surely sees as the return of Ner-gal.”
“Such thought processes are common in extreme cases of paranoid delusions,” Underhill added. “I hesitate to diagnose our boy as a schizophrenic, but there’s a strong possibility he might be suffering from such a psychosis. His delusions of grandeur are one thing, but in addition to the messages he believes he’s receiving, he may also have auditory, perhaps even visual hallucinations—hears voices, sees visions in which the god tells him to do things.”
“But the act of impalement,” Mr. Spock said. “Even if what you’re saying is true, other than that long spear in one of the slides, I still don’t see how this god Nergal connects to the killer’s desire to impale his victims.”
“Neither did I at first,” Markham said. “Like you, when I was first assigned to this case I was given a brief overview of the history of impalement as a form of execution. If you’ll recall, impalement was common in the Middle East during ancient times—next slide, please.”
A photograph of a stone tablet labeled,
“On this relief we see three men being impaled by a pair of soldiers. It’s a depiction of the Babylonian conquest of Judea, in which hundreds of Judeans were impaled by the king Nebuchadnezzar in the late seventh century BC. Incidentally, the Persian king Darius would return the favor later in the sixth century BC, when he is said to have impaled three thousand Babylonians. This Babylonian connection in and of itself is a compelling enough tie- in to Nergal. However, it was our man at NC State again who sealed the deal for us. No pun intended. Schaap?”
An audible gasp filled the conference room as the last of the slides appeared.
“What you’re looking at,” Markham said, “is a photograph of an ancient cylinder seal and its impression. Seals such as this one from Ancient Babylonia were usually engraved with a type of picture story, and were thus used to roll reliefs onto a soft surface such as the clay you see before you. This seal is believed to date back to about two thousand years before the birth of Christ. It was seized along with some other artifacts by Italian customs agents about a month ago, and is thought to have been stolen from one of the many unguarded archaeological sites looted at the beginning of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq. Although the other artifacts with which the seal was found were stolen from the Baghdad Museum, officials there are not exactly sure from which site the seal was stolen—perhaps an unknown site somewhere near the dig at Tel Ibrahim.
“Although crudely rendered,” Markham continued, “the seal is a stunning discovery. Made of limestone, it’s unusually large for this type of artifact; about two inches in length with a two-inch diameter. The imagery is unprecedented in that it seems to represent some kind of sacrifice being paid to the god Nergal. The procession of lion-headed figures holding the spears with the dangling humans are thought to be his priests; the fierce-looking creature at the end, the one with the human head and the winged body of a lion, is Ner-gal himself. Relatively little iconography of Nergal has survived, making this perhaps one of the most important archaeological discoveries for Ancient Babylonian scholars in recent years
“Extraordinary,” said Dr. Underhill. “A marriage of the lion imagery and the impalement; almost an instruction manual of how to sacrifice to the god. And as Nergal was the ruler of Hell, perhaps the impaled victims on the seal are undesirables, criminals, or even heretics in the eyes of the cult at Kutha.”
“Perhaps,” Markham said, “but the Babylonian concept of the Underworld was different than, say, the Christian concept of Hell. Nevertheless, it wasn’t a pretty place; and most likely the Impaler’s concept of Hell would be influenced by contemporary Christian notions, as well as the fact that Ner- gal mutated into one of Satan’s