It was a cold day in the city of gears. As the city slowly lumbered to life a grizzled man woke up from his high-backed office chair, a bottle of elvish wine still held in his grasp. He cracked his neck and took a swig of the half empty bottle and lit his pipe. Flannigan Jacobson was an ace private eye, and he worked for the big bucks. From exposing affairs to finding lost dogs, he did it all. As his expertise was often needed by the big brass who ran this city, he knew a few things he shouldn't. This kept him relatively safe, as safe as you could be from the biggest politicians and mobsters in this city.

Outside the city screeched as the oilers were late for their job. The giant gears were disconcerting for some, others like Flannigan found comfort in their rigid structure and unchanging rotations. Not like the corrupt people in this city. Flannigan was tired. The job offers from some of the most prolific mob bosses and politicians in this city were tempting, but he had morals. They only wanted him for his secrets, to get dirt on their competition.

He had just closed his eyes and settled into a more comfortable position when he heard murmuring at his door. It couldn't be the woman who had tried to call him a liar when he gave her proof of her husbands affair. She wouldn't come back, and he wouldn't get the payment from her. It was the way of things in this business. So he sat and he waited, feet on his desk, hands behind his head. The bottle of wine lay all but forgotten on the uneven wooden planks.

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Flannigan was surprised when he saw the young children no older than 11 walk into his office beaten and, sobbing. The four children came up to him and he addressed the young boy in the lead.

"This ain't the place for you kids to beg for money, now get out 'fore I throw you out." He threatened as he puffed on his pipe.

The boy stepped towards him and puffed up his chest. The bravado did nothing to hide his tear-stained face, just barely higher than the desk.

"Please sir our ma's been murdered and we heard you would take any job."

"I don't do charity cases kid, now get out." He growled.

"Please sir, I can pay?" He fidgeted around and pulled something from one of his pockets to put it on the desk before he backed away.

There on the desk laid not one, not two, but three shining and perfectly cut rubies. Flannigan scooped one up, and gave the kid the other two back.

" 'Kay then kid, I'm listening."