Priory of Death: 19

Emily and I got back to the surface as quickly as we could, and we crossed the moonlit garden rapidly, on the look-out for people dressed as monks. Emily had her crossbow ready to shoot anyone who might possibly try to harm us. It was a good thing for the killer that we saw no-one. We went into the house again and silently climbed the stairs to Scruff's bedroom.
Scruff was already at the computer when we entered her room. In her pyjamas, lying on her bed, she looked pretty funny.
"Oh! It's you two. What happened?"
"Someone tried to kill me," I said as if it was no big deal.
"No! How?"
"Using the Pit. We found out how it works. What have you got on Hamilton?"
"James Hamilton, Church of Scotland minister of Dentree, ordained two years ago."
"And before that?"
"That's just it, Grey, there IS no record of him before that! He just kind of happens! He appears suddenly without any previous existence!"
That was a turn-up for the books.
"Do you have a picture of him?"
"Yes. I found one online. I'm cross-referencing it now with our files and the files of every police department in the United Kingdom."

"Start with Glasgow. He had a Glaswegian accent, which might be a clue."
"Okay, Grey, I'll narrow down the search."
She began to work on that. Emily and I watched in fascination. Neither of us are exactly ignorant of computers, but Scruff's a complete genius with them. I think she's hacked her way into computers and databases that everyone else thinks are completely safe. She's quite amazing, even Scotland Yard don't know how she gets in and out.
Computers are so much fun. Back in the old days you actually had to physically break into Scotland Yard to get that sort of information, now you can break in from the comfort of your own arm-chair. Or bed, in Scruff's case.
"Here we are!" she gasped. "Look!"
Angus McGregor, former Glasgow gangster. And, I noticed, a police informer!
"Where is this record?"
"A top-level database. It's a list of former police informers who've been given new identities. Apparently McGregor was converted and wanted to be ordained..."
There was my motive. Of course no-one had any reason to kill James Hamilton, because there was no such person! But a lot of people would want to kill a former gangland informer, a 'grass'.
"Is it enough?" The Outsider asked me anxiously. I nodded.
"It's enough for me. Scruff, cross-reference our fellow guests with Glasgow gangland."
"Will do, chief," she grinned. "And you?"
"I'm going to bed."
And I went too.