Page 24 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

“What sort of appointments?”

Lahiri pointed at the “reading” room with his pen.

“Did she keep a book of these appointments?”

“Already ahead of you.” He took a book from behind the register and handed it to Avery. “Her last appointment was with a Mr. Matthew Hopkins.”

“Increasingly improbable,” muttered Avery. Matthew Hopkins, Bell, Book, and Candle, Marvelous Malificarum. The pageantry of the store, the theatrics of the con…

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a rather common-sounding name, don’t you think?” Avery commented. “Matthew, biblical origins. Deriving from the Hebrew Matityahu meaning ‘Gift of Yahweh.’ Gaining popularity as far back as the Middle Ages in Northwest Europe, it remained in consistent use in England at least until my experience of the nineteenth century, and, judging by your expression, not much has changed.”

“It’s about as common as John in England, I’d say,” confirmed Lahiri. He looked bewildered and frustrated, but then people usually did when she was making this sort of connection. Well. Most people.

“Hopkins, of course, being nearly equally as common—meaning ‘son of Hob,’ which of course you know is a diminutive for Robert.”

“Of course.” Lahiri’s expression betrayed him, showing that he did not in fact know that.

“I don’t have to tell you how many Roberts the English, Irish, Scottish, and Welsh had running around… Yes, Inspector, a terribly common name, Matthew Hopkins. But also the very name of England’s notorious and self-proclaimed Witchfinder General.”

It took a moment for the entirety of the information to settle in. “Well, that could be a coincidence, couldn’t it?”

“Naturally.” Anything could be coincidence. But to not account for this data would be as foolish as putting all her eggs in that basket. “However, when one considers that the victim is a self-proclaimed witch who has made a bit of a name for herself in the community with both a shop and book named specifically to make a mockery of tools historically used against witches and pairs that with the brutal and personal vendetta her manner of murder suggests, the fact that her last appointment happens to share the same name as an infamous Puritan witch hunter seems worth making note of.”

“Are you suggesting our murderer is hunting witches?”

“I’m suggesting we don’t take anything for granted until we have ruled it out. Have you asked the boy about the appointment book?”

“Not ye—”

Avery scooped it into her arms and made her way outside. “Is this your handwriting?” She pointed at Matthew Hopkins’s name while practically shoving the book in the boy’s face.

Blake Hingley looked both startled and confused and turned to the uniformed officer for guidance.

Some posturing was in order, then. “Detective Inspector Avery Hemlock.” She impatiently tapped on the name again. “Is this your handwriting?”

Blake looked at the scrawl and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What can you tell me about this last appointment?”

The boy shrugged unhelpfully. “They wanted a reading?”

“Yes, I had gathered that in that their name was written down in an appointment book for readings. Can you tell me more? What he wanted the reading for, by chance? How he was dressed?”

“I take appointments down when I’m working the register. I’m not really paying attention. I’m on autopilot.”

Avery frowned at the term. “What does that mean?”

Another unhelpful shrug. “I don’t remember.”

“Then why say it?” The question dripped venom.

Lahiri, who had caught up by now, cut in. “He means he doesn’t remember writing it, not that he doesn’t remember what the idiom means.”

“Ah.” Avery met his eyes with a brief but grateful smile before turning back to Blake. A lost temper would not help her here. “You don’t remember writing this?”

Blake shook his head. “If someone calls in about making an appointment, I just write it down and go on with my day, you know?”