I wasn't too surprised that Miss White had failed to tell me about the incident with Hanes in the Blue Butterfly. It wasn't the best of looks for her, an argument with the man that she claimed to love, just weeks before he disappeared, and while in the company of heavies, as Charlie had called them. On the other hand, she must have known I'd be asking questions and that there was a good chance that it would come out.

The two heavies, they sounded like bodyguards of some kind, if more imposing than most. Who had sent them, now that was the question of the hour. The more I found out about her, the more Miss White proved to be an enigma and a contradiction, seemingly poor, seemingly rich. Protected but not necessarily wanting to be so. Connected but claiming to be in love with a man of little means or standing.

Intriguing in fact. Of course, it isn't always the best that clients are that way. It complicates matters too much.

I had to put that aside, though, to ignore that aspect. Too many warnings had been triggered, and those by Charlie stood out most. I had seen him stand up to a drunken ogre before, which was something I would never even contemplate doing. And yet these two had disturbed him. It was danger I could do without.

I was nearing my office, deep in thought, when trouble of a different kind found me.

I had only a few moments warning when the sound of rushing feet came to me and out of the mists, from a small side street where they had been lurking, rushed a trio of men, rugged up in heavy coats with their hats pulled down tight and low over their heads. They were big men, thick necked and flat faced, with the brutish look of street thugs.

There was no chance for me to run, not with them being almost upon me.

My hands were already in my pockets, where they had been as I walked, and I slipped my right hand into the brass knuckles that I carried. I doubted that the thugs were here to wish me good health, not with the way they were coming at me, and not with the looks on their faces. They meant business, that business being pain.

My hand came out as the first one rushed at me, raising his fist to slug me. He swung and I ducked under it, before rising back up like a vengeful monster from the depths of the mists. My brass knuckles took him right upon the jaw. His knees buckled at the impact and his eyes rolled back in their sockets.

He went down with a heavy thud.

It had been a truly righteous blow, one to be proud off. Except I didn't have any time to exult in it for his two companions were upon me. A blow glanced off the side of my head, rattling my teeth, while a second hammered home into my ribs, driving the breath out of my lungs. After that it was all a bit of a blur. I did my best but against thugs like that it isn't exactly easy. They had the look - and unfortunately the feel - of downtown types, of enforcers that you don't often see up my way. Lurkers and bottom feeders.

A few minutes later it was all over. It hadn't been as bad as it could have been. It wasn't my first beat down, either. That comes with the territory. You learn to roll with the punches and the kicks to lessen the impact, and to protect the most vulnerable parts. And the thugs got in the way of each other a bit with their enthusiasm to beat me down.

That isn't to say that it didn't hurt. A beating always hurts. I had avoided the worst of it though.

I was hauled back to my feet by the beefy hand of one of the thugs as he grasped my tie. My vision swirled in on the face of one who was almost, but not quite, human. There were clues here and there; a slightly different cast to the face so that it appeared more like sharp edges, teeth that had a more pointed, fang like appearance to them, a hint of scales on the side of the neck and up to ears which were flat and small. That and the almost yellow glow to his eyes.

Sharks we call them. Dangerous, unpredictable and with a penchant for violence, as I had just experienced first-hand. Not the most dangerous species in Spire, but well up there.

He growled as he spoke, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "We got words fer youse, pal. Youse messed with da wrong people."

I blinked as I tried to focus my gaze. There was the taste of blood in my mouth and the very real possibility that a rib had cracked. It hurt as I breathed and left me wincing.

"Wouldn't be the first time," I admitted. "Who have I managed to annoy this time?"

Sharky pulled me in closer to his face. His breath had the odour of one who ate far too much garlic and fermented foods. "Youse trying to be smart, pal?"

"Not at all," I tried to assure him. "I cross people all of the time."

Sharky gave me a long, narrow look before the grip relaxed a touch. No more than that. If he let go of me I would probably have collapsed to the ground. I felt woozy and my feet unsteady beneath me. "Youse got da look of one who does. Dis is just a warning, understand, pal? Next time we not being so friendly. Youse got two days to get back what we want. A box like youse keep jewellery in."

"Brass and redwood?" I asked. "Got trees and stuff on it?"

"Dat da one."

Stolen story; please report.

I shut my eyes as I tried to find a proper footing, to prop myself up. It didn't quite work and the effort caused a spark of pain in my side. "My client in the matter claimed that it was a family heirloom, stolen from them a couple of weeks ago."

"Day be lying," Sharky told me. "Ain't never belonged to dem."

Damnation and the like. I had thought the matter with the Kochak's had all been wrapped up. Now there was a loose end and I really didn't like those. Not ones that result in me getting beaten up.

I replied with a grunted sigh. "Here is hardly the place for a discussion like this. Come into my office and we'll discuss the matter."

"Youse better not be trying a fast one, pal, else we be getting real unfriendly."

"I've already taken one beating today. I'm in no hurry to cop a second one."

Sharky seemed to be mollified by that. He released his grip on me and I almost collapsed as a result, catching myself at the last moment. It was with ginger steps that I made my way towards the building that held my office. The three thugs closed in around me, giving me no chance to run, even if I was in any condition to do so.

Great. Now I had not one but two cases with unexpected turns in them. It happens from time to time but it didn't make me any happier for it. I wanted easy. Why do I never get easy? There were moments when I was convinced that Spire had it in for me.

As I walked, I became convinced that the thugs wanted me to cause trouble. They still had that blood in the water look about them, ready to strike at any moment. Not an unknown quality for a Shark, mind, but it was one that I really wanted to avoid.

Of course, I could have just been imagining it, considering the worst-case scenario. Given what I had been through, it wasn't an unreasonable thought. Luckily it didn't happen.

And so I made a slow journey back to the office, heading inside the building as we arrived. The rattily old elevator that served the building was somewhat cramped with the four of us in it, given the size of the thugs, a tight fit that I could have done without. The odour that they gave off didn't help either.

As the elevator went up, I felt at my ribs. My earlier fear that there might have been some that had broken looked not to be true. It still hurt to touch them. and no doubt there would be a mass of bruises there but nothing felt broken. My jaw ached as well from one of the blows I had taken. At least no teeth had been loosened. Still, I wouldn't be eating anything hard for a bit.

I was glad when at last we made it back to my office and I was able to ease myself back into my chair behind the desk. My hand went almost on its own accord to a bottle and glass in the desk, pulling them out and placing them before me. I opened the bottle and poured myself a short measure.

"So," I started saying, picking up the glass, "If this box didn't belong to my clients, who does it belong to?"

"Day be new arrivals," Sharky replied, easing his frame into the chair opposite me. His two companions lurked behind him, arms crossed, looking menacing. It looked like they had a lot of practice at it. They had the looming part down to an art. "Wandered in through da mists down our way. Wese be looking after dem."

I winced and took a small sip of my drink. Poor souls. Not everyone who lives in Spire is born here. From time to time others fall in through whatever cracks in reality exist that link Spire to everywhere else. Where exactly they turned up in Spire, now that was down to blind fate. In this situation fate had dealt them a poor hand indeed, dumping them downtown in territory that was controlled by the likes of Sharky.

"Fair enough. Do you have any idea how my clients came to find out about it then?"

"Back where Ise come from, dere are dese fishes what lurk at da edges, scavengers dat prey on da weak. Dese people be like dat. Day be looking harmless, but dat is just a disguise." He leaned forward in the chair and it groaned beneath his weight. I really hoped that it wouldn't break under him. "Day trick even youse."

"You aren't from Spire initially?" I asked. The Sharks had been around for some time. I had taken Sharky to have been born here. He certainly sounded like a native of the lower parts of Spire.

Sharky flashed me a smile that revealed the rows of pointed teeth. "Dat be right. Ise being lucky when Ise arrived. Dere others of my kind here and Ise didn't end up in a bad place. Others day not being so lucky. So Ise and me pals, we be keeping an eye out for dem."

If that were true, then to some extent I might have misjudged Sharky. Even the most hardened of criminals had a soft spot for someone or something, and it appeared that Sharky had found his. His perspective as a new arrival to Spire had coloured his view on matters, and made him in part sympathetic to the plight of others who were recently arrived to Spire.

"My clients had a key to the box," I told Sharky, "But not the box itself."

"Youse got many questions, Mister Investigator. Youse be lucky that Ise in a friendly mood today." He placed his fists on the desk and leaned forward, half rising up out of the chair to do so. "Day be persuading my friends to be handing it over, just like Ise be persuading youse. Day wanted da box as well, but day not be getting it. It is why day be coming to youse. Dem, Ise not be seeing before, so Ise couldn't be finding dem. Youse, though, youse left a scent behind and dat Ise can follow."

I leant back in my chair and raised my glass, staring into it. "It isn't like I don't believe you," I told him, trying my best not to sound combative in any way so as not to offend him, "But you do realise that this is a case of your word against theirs." In Sharky's favour, he had some rather convincing arguments, largely the two beefy ones at the end of his arms.

"Yeah, we thinking youse be saying that. Did youse be seeing what be in da box?"

I shook my head. "My clients were adamant that I not look inside."

"Dat be a shame." Sharky looked back to one his companions. The man pulled out a number of folded sheets of paper from his coat pocket and threw them down on the desk in front of me.

I set down the glass and picked them up. As I opened them up, on each I saw drawn a piece of jewellery. They weren't what you would consider works of art but they were good enough to convey what each piece looked like. I almost wished that they didn't. They were not exactly conventional pieces. There were hints of things in each piece, of parts of shapes and animals, all amalgamated into a whole that was both elegant and disturbing. They tugged at the eye and distorted the vision. At least that was what it seemed like. Either that or I was still suffering the effects of my beat down which had left my head still slightly out of kilter.

"What do you expect of me?"

"Youse going to be getting da box back," Sharky told me. "Youse look inside and youse be seeing dat we be telling da truth. Den youse be giving it back to us and dat be end of matter. No more hard feelings."

"It isn't like I have much choice in the matter, do I?"

Sharky gave me another toothy grin. "No, youse don't. Wese be back in two days, pal. Youse better be having da box for use by den, understand?"

"Understood."

Sharky stopped leaning on the desk and stood up. Motioning to his two companions, he headed out, halting momentarily at the door. "Be seeing youse, pal." Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my bruises and my troubles.