Earl of Ugly knew there was something amiss. Drunk or sober he could feel it running through his bones. He had been sat in the seat in the corner bar for most of the evening. The barkeep feeding him bourbon straight top ups. He was watching the doorway across the rain slicked street into which she had disappeared. All he had seen so far, was a constant trail of over painted harlots and harlequins. Naught else in and out through that door.

He was just about to call for the tab and curse his lying bones when she reappeared. But there was a subtle difference, she seemed to radiate with an inner glow. She was the same but changed. She stared through the driving rain, straight across the street, through the bar window, into his eyes and straight down into his soul. He felt her grip his inner self. He sputtered bourbon, coughed and she was gone.

He knew, this investigation would go nowhere. He paid his debt, left the bar and stood on the street corner with the other nighthawks, letting the rain soak him through.