I spent some time in conversation with McAllister after that, sharing what we knew of the various cases we were working, comparing notes, thoughts and ideas. I told him about Sharky and his search for the box. Neither of us knew just what to make of his claim about it being new to Spire but, given the description, it had to be the same one. Unless there was more than one of them out there. If so, that would just make things more complicated. Of the Kochaks, I briefly mentioned them. Of their fate, and of the worms I said nothing. I couldn't mention Sharky and not them though. McAllister was too good a detective to let the whole situation pass without at least asking about it. I volunteered some of the information, enough to satisfy him. Or at least so I hoped. I told him that they were now out of the picture and we no longer needed to worry about them. He shared with me what he knew about the murder of Brione Westler and of the jewellery box. There wasn't much more to it than I already knew. Every scrap of information helps though.

In time we moved on to old cases that we had worked together, back in the day. It happens in our profession, both the collaboration and the reminiscing. We even managed a few laughs. McAllister broke out the good whisky and we filled the office with smoke, he from his pipe and I from a cigar I lit up.

The good times could not last forever. We both had business to attend to. I left and headed back to my own meagre office. With the new information that I had acquired, the time had come to confront Miss White again. No more evasions. I needed the truth of the matter.

Another call was made and once again I had a short wait while Miss White was fetched to take it.

"Good day, Mister Stone. Do you have any news?"

"I am still looking, Miss White, but don't worry, I am making progress. Further matters have come to light during my investigation that I need some information on."

"How can I help?"

"Did you know that Mister Hanes had hired an investigator of his own prior to his disappearance. McAllister."

"I did not know that." Miss White sounded genuinely surprised. I doubted that she could fake that kind of sincerity. She would have to be a very good actress to pull it off, better than I suspected she was. "Why would he need to do that?"

"Because of you, Miss White."

Miss White paused on the other end of the telephone before she answered. "Because of me?" There was a hesitancy to her reply, almost as if she was dreading to find out the answer, yet needing to at the same time. I couldn't exactly blame her for that. She had some big secrets in her past.

"Yes. McAllister told me he was looking into the matter of a jewellery box, one that had belonged to a young woman who was murdered twenty years ago. It was stolen during the crime.”

Another pause followed on from the first. "And how does this involve me?" She really was reticent in speaking. I knew the reasons for it, but until such time as she was willing to share them, I wasn't going to force it from her, despite it being the reason for my call to her. Call it my better nature. I could be tough when needed, but cruelty wasn't in my nature. She had her reasons, whatever they were, for not wanting to disclose the truth.

"McAllister mentioned that Nathan knew about it through you. A family heirloom or some such thing that he was determined to return to you."

I heard a soft sigh come down the line, almost a catch in the throat. "I had mentioned it to him in passing," Miss White told me, her voice wavering with emotion. "I did not realise that he had remembered or taken it serious enough to try and locate it."

"It would appear that it did, and I do worry that it may have gotten him in trouble."

"How so?"

"The victim of the murder was a young woman by the name of Brione Westler. Even though the crime happened twenty years ago, the Westlers are not a family that you want to get mixed up with if you can help it."

"They had nothing to do with Nate's disappearance, Mister Sone," Miss White assured me.

"I wish that I could be so confident. The Westlers are a crime family after all, Miss White." Poor girl. She knew that of course, but I had to make it sound as if she didn't. The guilt must have been overwhelming.

"I know who they are, Mister Stone." She fell silent again, this time for a good while. I could almost hear her thoughts ticking over. "I have a confession to make, Mister Stone," she said finally.

"Yes?"

"I am Brione Westler."

"I know."

"You knew?" I could feel the shock - and the relief - surge down the telephone line. "But you.." she started to say. "I mean..." In the end she went with a plaintive "How?"

"It is what I do," I told her. "I investigate. I dig around. I uncover the truth. Eventually it all comes out." I'd be the first to admit that I wasn't necessarily the fastest at it. I got there in the end, by sheer dogged perseverance. No doubt McAllister would have twigged to it much sooner, if he had been working the case. He hadn't though. I was the one working the case. I was the one failing to make headway in it.

"I see. I am not proud of my connections to my family, Mister Stone. I try and make my own way in the city, separate from them, which is what I was doing when I was murdered. They are family though, and you can not entirely remove yourself from them, nor they from you. They still help me out from time to time and I would know if they had done anything to Nate. You can be assured that whatever has happened to him, they are not behind it."

I was not so certain myself that if it were the case she would have found out about it. It still did feel to me to be the less likely option. "I will take your word on it. But something did happen to him, and from all accounts it looks like the box may have been involved. It has recently resurfaced and caused no end of troubles in the process, and more than a few questions." Most of it to me, I didn't add.

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"It has been seen?"

"I saw it myself not a few days ago. If I had known that it was important to you and might have been involved in Mister Hanes disappearance, then my actions regarding it would have been very different. It was an heirloom you say?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it." I readied my notepad, preparing to jot down anything she told me that may have seemed even vaguely important and of use.

"It is old, Mister Stone, very old. To be honest I am not sure how old. It has been passed down through my family for generations, as far back as anyone knows. It was a remembrance of better times, which was why I lamented its loss so much."

"Valuable?"

"As these things go, yes, but not excessively so."

"And it was never recovered?"

"No. My murderer never divulged what had happened to it after he stole it."

"So your family did discover who was responsible."

"Yes," Miss White replied, and there was a mix of sadness, bitterness and regret in her voice. "When I first came back as one of the Departed, the change left me disoriented. I was confused and uncertain, not yet at terms with what had happened to me or how to react to it. I hope that you never have to experience such a turmoil of shock and emotions. During the transition phase, my family pressed me on who was responsible. I may have been slightly estranged from them, but I was still family and they took care of their own. In my confusion, I told them all that I remembered of that terrible night. The results were as you can guess. They found him, questioned him, then killed him and disposed of his body over the edge of Spire, into the mists where he would never be found. I am responsible for his death."

"No," I told her, "You are not. He brought it upon himself. And even if you had not told your family, they would still have found out anyway. More would probably have died in the process of finding him that way. Blood is important to organisations such as your family belongs to. They would have upturned Spire to locate your killer."

"I suppose so." She didn't sound entirely convinced by my answers. It would take a long time for that guilt to leave her. It was strange to think that one who had been raised in the Westler family should have held views so antithetical to theirs. It did rather explain her reluctance to get her family involved, or to draw in their resources, more than she had. I admired her for that, and that she continued to cling to them even after her death. And continued to do so some twenty years later. It took remarkable strength of character. Maybe that was why she had returned as one of the Departed, through her will and internal strength.

"Miss White, there has been some confusion surrounding this box that I hope you can clear up for me."

"I will do what I can."

"The contents of the box are somewhat otherworldly in appearance, ones I couldn’t adequately describe over the telephone, and would make no sense even if I tried."

"Yes, that does sound like them."

"Do you know much about them? Anything you could share as to their origins or purpose?"

"They came down with the box. I can’t say as to who made them, or for what purpose, beyond the old family tale that they did not originate in Spire, but instead came in through the mists, from one of the other words out there. And that they were not to be worn unless circumstances led to there being no other option but to do so. Both a blessing and a curse, my old grandmother used to say when she showed them to me. I shudder at the day they must be worn, for it will be a dark day indeed. I never understood what she meant. Nor did she, truly, I would guess. She was just telling me what had been told to her by those who had owned them previous."

"Did many outside your family know of its existence." If they had, then it could have explained her murder and the theft of the box. There was power to them by the sound of it, and power is always sought after by those who would take it, no matter the price or cost. A murder would mean nothing to some of them.

"I don’t know. Perhaps. We didn't flaunt its existence if that is what you mean."

"If it was as dangerous as you imply it was, how did it end up in your possession when you left your family behind."

"That was part of the nature of what it was, Mister Stone. None other but I could have it. It descended down through the female line, and I was the next to inherit it after the death of my mother. It had to be held by those that inherited it, for they, and only they, could wear the items within should the need have arisen. My family understood that well."

"Perhaps it was for the box and its contents that you were murdered."

"If it was then it would have served them no good. They could not have used it."

"For such a unique, and seemingly powerful item, I am sure that there would be many who would wish just to own it, whether they could use it or not."

"Then they have brought their own fates down upon them," Miss White told me.

"How is that?"

"That is another part of the legacy of the box. As long as we were in possession of it, trouble was kept at bay. Our family suffered after it was gone, as you may have heard, and I do not doubt that the box has left a string of troubles in its wake since. If you were to dig into its past, I am sure that you would find them."

"Did you tell Mister Hanes all of this?"

"No," Miss White sighed. "I should never have brought it up in the first place," she added, her bitterness very evident.

"It just proves how much he cares for you," I told her, trying to bring her some comfort. I am not sure it worked all that well.

"I would give anything that he had never heard of it, Mister Stone. If it has led to his death, I do not know what I shall do with myself."

"It is too early for such measures, Miss White. I have not given up hope on finding him and nor should you."

"I thank you for your kind words, Mister Stone, but I am resigned to the worst. It has been some time now since he disappeared and nothing yet has been discovered of his whereabouts."

In some regards she wasn't wrong. It had been a while and not a word had been heard of Nathan Hanes during it. There had been clues and leads and dead ends but nothing had led any closer to actually finding him, or even spotting him. It was rather frustrating. It was almost as if he had disappeared off the side of Spire - and that I really had to hope hadn't happened.

Giving into despair was not the answer to the problem, but then again neither was clinging to a false sense of hope. Miss White had held up admirably until then, yet her calm resolve was beginning to fray and to fracture. Her emotions must have been in turmoil. And I was failing her. That was the most galling part of the whole thing. I should have found something - anything - of note by then given the number of days I had been working the case. Instead, there I was, digging up information that was not exactly relevant to the case as far as I could tell, exposing old wounds and memories that doubtless Miss White had not wished to be exposed, or to remember, and becoming embroiled in troubling matters that were drawing my energies away from it all.

"One last matter, Miss White. Have you come across any other items of a similar nature to yours?"

"No. As far as I know it was unique. Why do you ask?"

"Before I started looking for Mister Hanes, I was working on another case, one that involved finding your heirloom. It is a little bit complicated, but a number of people were vying for control of it. There were deaths surrounding it, as you said that there would be, but also some confusion. One person that I spoke to said that it had only recently arrived in Spire along with some who had recently been drawn in through the mists from elsewhere. If yours came in from one of the other worlds, it may not be as unique as you say."

"Perhaps the box may not be," Miss White replied, "But the contents would be. I remember that at one point my grandmother, just before she passed away, made mention of the fact that they had come from a world that was dying, arriving in Spire with the last of those to escape it before it was devoured by dark and flame. There is no chance that anything newly arrived would have come from there. It no longer exists."

"I see." I scratched a few notes down in my notepad. "Another mystery then. Thank you for your time, Miss White."

"Mister Stone, I hope that you will not share my secret around."

"You have my word on it, Miss White."