As I left the Rag Lady's place, I considered what she had told me and what my path ahead was. The link between the two cases I really had not expected. Trying to figure out where they crossed, now that was the interesting part. Of the Kochaks, I had little idea as to where their paths led. Nathan Hanes, his would be easier to track given just how little he went anywhere from what I had discovered. The Blue Butterfly, hunting for a place to live and perhaps visits to his sister. Not a lot, really.

I did not relish yet another trip to the Blue Butterfly. I would be riding the autotrolley long enough as it was just to get back up to my office, let alone paying a visit to the club along the way. That left me with only a couple of options to choose from.

My steps led me back through the dark, rainy streets of way downtown, to the thoroughfare and on to the stop. The trolleys ran much less frequent down there. There just wasn't the demand for it. It resulted in a long wait sheltering in the stop until at last one arrived. The time passed quiet and without anything interesting of note occurring. I boarded the trolley car and it began its long, slow climb upwards, towards less dark parts of the city.

The tiring night I had been through, the lack of sleep, coupled with the steady, rhythmic movements of the trolley worked upon me and I dropped into a doze, my head resting against the shuttered window at my side. It wasn't until the trolley car clunked to a halt at the halfway point that I was jolted back awake. During my nap, I had picked up a pain in my neck from the awkward angle in which I had been sitting.

Rubbing at my eyes, and my neck, I stood up and made my way out of the trolley, and from there to the one that continued on upwards. The first one I had travelled on I had mostly to myself. The new one was fairly well occupied, it being well into the mid-morning by that stage. There were no seats that I could take for myself. Instead I was forced to squeeze in alongside a diminutive goblin with its dark green skin and pinched features, to continue on my journey. It wasn't the most comfortable of rides as the goblin carried with them a pile of boxes. From one of the boxes came what sounded like the sound of scratching. The goblin gave me a toothy grin when I looked at the boxes. Best not to ask at times.

Despite the early start I'd had to the day, the amount of time that I spent riding the trolley meant that I arrived back at my office with the day half done. A quick bite to eat picked up on a bakery on the way satisfied a growing hunger before I went to work.

My aim was to try and find out just where Nathan Hanes had been looking for places to live, and that I could do quite easily from my office. No need to get out and about, wearing out even more shoe leather. I doubted that he would have looked for a place to live that was far from his work and so I concentrated on the region around where he worked.

It turned out not to be as easy as I had hoped it would be, but more along the lines of what I had feared. Ringing around various real estate agents, it was hard enough to get any information out of them, let alone the specific information that I sought. The hours drew on and call after call went without success. A small pile of screwed up papers began to grow on the desk in front of me, alongside a glass that slowly emptied. I began to despair of ever getting a useful lead out of any of them. The drip in the bucket in the corner told me that the day was nearing its end. Exhausted by the long day that I had been through, and the longer night, I decided on making one last call, not expecting much out of it.

For once I was pleasantly surprised, things turning out better that I could have hoped for after all the previous failures. Not only was the agent I spoke to most receptive to my requests, he confirmed that he had spoken to Mister Hanes and had indeed shown him a few places. They had been expecting to hear back from Hanes in the last couple of weeks but no word had reached them. No doubt that was behind their enthusiastic help. The loss of a prospective sale made them open up more than any previous agent had.

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I scribbled down notes, addresses and more as the conversation went on, feeling better about the investigation than I had for a while. I had leads again. Progress was being made at last. In return for a small fee, the agent even promised to show me around the places the next day.

When at last I hung up the phone, I was humming to myself. A lot of the aches and pains had subsided to almost nothing, and though still tired, it wasn't a bone-weary exhaustion. I tucked away the notebook and made my way out of the office, locking the door behind me, preparing to head home. A good night's sleep was what I needed, and now I felt as if I could manage it properly.

I should have expected that the good feeling would not last.

Heading along the street, I heard the smooth sounds of an engine coming my way. A sleek silver automobile slid out of the mists ahead of me, a Hamilton Spirit. A vehicle was not unusual, but the make and model was. It was a car of those uptown, exceedingly expensive and luxurious. You didn't see their likes down my way much, if at all, let alone on the backstreets of a district.

I walked by a street lamp as the car neared, and that fact saved me. The new scarf that I had been given by the Rag Lady had become unwrapped, the ends dangling loose outside my coat. As I passed the post, one of the ends became hooked on a sign attached to the lamp post, one that advertised some miraculous health elixir, good for a variety of ailments and conditions. As it snagged, it pulled tight around my neck and jerked me back, my feet almost going out from under me.

Turning to untangle it and free myself, I noticed the Sprint slow down as it neared me and the back window wind down. A dark barrel protruded from out of the open window. I threw myself to the ground behind the lamp post, seeking what shelter I could. I almost choked myself on my scarf as I did. Even so, it was preferable to being shot.

A rhythmic rat-a-tat-tat echoed through the quiet streets as the gun fired. I huddled tight in a ball, trying to make myself as small a target as I could. The wall where I had been standing moments before became pockmarked with bullet holes. Chips of broken brick showered down around me.

The firing ended as abruptly as it had started and the Sprint picked up speed and sped off.

I clambered back up to my feet, drawing my revolver from my pocket as I did. The Sprint was already receding into the mists as I fired at it, my bullets whizzing down the street after it. I saw a spark as one slug glanced off the back of the car. Beyond that I couldn't notice if I had landed any other hits, let alone caused any damage. Then the automobile was gone, disappearing into the darkening shroud of the mists.

I decided that I should do likewise.

I returned my revolver to my pocket and dusted myself off before untangling my scarf from the sign on the lamp post. Any traces of my previous good mood had gone, replaced with a very real chill touch. A car of that kind meant someone rich and powerful was after me, someone not concerned about ordering a hit on me out in the open. That most likely meant an uptowner, maybe even one of Them Above. I was not sure what I could have done that could have brought me to their attention, and to offend them enough that they would wish to see me dead. The cases that I was working, they surely couldn't involve uptowners, not that I could see. At least I hoped not.

I finished getting untangled and made a quick getaway. Further downtown, gunfire would not attract too much attention, or at least not immediately. Up my way, the authorities tended to take a dimmer view on the matter. It would not be long before the constabulary appeared, and I for one did not wish to receive that kind of attention. I am not averse to helping them out when the need arises, but right then, when coupled with the fire at the Kochak’s place, I would be looking at some serious questioning.

One thing that the attack had done for me was to really wake me up. The rush of adrenaline that had coursed through my body had done me a temporary favour at least. I wouldn't recommended it as a cure for tiredness though. It wouldn't last long. I made my way back to my residence, and from there cast myself into the welcome arms of sleep.