As Alex walked along the streets he took notice of the conditions of the city slowly improving as he went. Cobblestone streets becoming less crude and more orderly, Brick and masonry sidewalks well kept instead of crumbling and breaking away. Even the street lights gleamed with a polish and shine. Buildings looked less thrown together and more planned and orderly. The sounds of children playing in the morning sun in nearby parks. This side of town was like an entirely new world. Even the sun shone a bit brighter here, away from the grime and corruption of the gutters.

Alex knew it was a farce; this part of town was just as bad if not worse than where he was coming from. Here they just hid it away; they used the pretty sights and new buildings as a blanket to cover up all the filth and horror of this place. There was no such thing as peace in this city. It was just a more contained and subdued sort of violence and supremacy. At least in the gutters they were honest about it.

He sighed to himself as he turned a corner and made his way up to the estate house of Sarah Delacroix. This was the last known place that anyone saw her. The building was stark white with columns and large open windows along the front of the entire home. A long curving arched roof made the front of the house almost look like a gaping maw in some sort of skeletal beast. He made his way to the wrought iron gates to see an officer of the local police force standing by at the front gate.

“Can I help you sir? Miss Delacroix isn’t available to speak with anyone at the moment.” The officer said, as he looked over Alex trying to get a measure of the man.

“Yeah, morning officer, I’m Alex Byrne I’m here in reference to her disappearance. I was wondering if I might be able to head in and investigate or if I could speak with the lead inspector in charge.”

“You ain’t with any paper are you?” The officer crossed his arms and wasn’t budging from his spot. “We aren’t to speak with reporters and the inspector said there’d be a conference about it if one was needed.”

Alex shook his head and reached into his coat pocket pulling out his wallet and showing his investigators badge. “No, I’m here on behalf of my client Miss Emily Beauchene, She asked that I follow up on the investigation to see if maybe I might be able to assist in finding Miss Delacroix’s whereabouts.”

The officer seemed offended at that statement “We don’t need outside help Investigator, but ill call the inspector to see what he wants done with you.” With that the officer stepped away from the gate out of easy earshot from Alex and started talking on his radio. He came back down to the gate looking somewhat flustered. “Inspector Ryan said to send you up; you’re to meet him in the gallery right through the front door.” He pulled open the gate with a bit of effort and Alex walked through nodding to the officer as he went by. “I wouldn’t expect you to know, since you ain’t a cop, but don’t touch nothing in there.”

Alex rolled his eyes carrying on up the long gravel path to the front of the house, soon coming to the double doors where a maid waited on him at the door. She opened the door for him and nodded her head smartly. “Miss Emily informed us you might be coming to us today; we were not expecting the police to still be here.”

Alex smiled at her and nodded a silent thanks to the woman as he walked in and waited in the middle of the gallery. The obvious power play from the inspector had him waiting for a while but it allowed him to take stock of his surroundings. The room was enormous, with a central staircase leading up the second floor. The floors on the ground level were white marble and had the occasional rug. By Alex’s estimation those rugs were probably worth what he made in a year. Salvadore was right; there was no way he would fit in with this lifestyle.

Along the walls were various paintings and in nooks sat sculptures. He wandered over to one of the paintings and examined it closely. It was as Emily had described, sweeping vistas and wide open spaces bright and lively. Footsteps approached him from behind, and based on the sound and weight in the footfalls he assumed it was not a maid. The man walked up and stood for a moment admiring the painting behind Alex.

“It’s a piece made by your client I believe. She didn’t sign them visibly, so I can’t be certain, but she does have a measure of talent few get.” Alex turned around to face the inspector. He was a thin man, with sharp facial features and a thin moustache. He had brown sunken eyes that looked like they were mired in complacent boredom more than anything else. This was a day to day routine for him. “I am Inspector Ryan, how can I be of assistance to one of the few to try to maintain order in that dreadful part of town?”

Alex squinted slightly as if trying to figure out if the man before him was being facetious or not. “Pleasure to meet you inspector, I’m Alex Byrne, as you pointed out I’m here on behalf of Miss Beauchene, I was wondering if I might have a look at the last place Miss Delacroix was seen.” He smiled to the inspector. “Obviously hands off approach, as your officer so dutifully reminded me, ‘I’m no cop.”

The inspector turned his eyes to the officer far away down at the gate. “Did he now? Yes Mr. Byrne, please follow me, I expect that anything you find you’ll be able to point out to us in case if we missed it. I’ll admit I am curious to see how… thoroughly you work. I’ve heard your name pop up occasionally and when I heard it today it took my interest.”

Alex chuckled as he followed the man up the stairs and to the left of the main staircase. The inspector pushed open two large oak doors which led directly into the study. “I hope that when my name popped up it was at least for good reasons.” Alex took a moment to look over the room, book cases lined the walls and again at the front of the house the wall was entirely made of glass. Alex walked over to a large wooden desk where a wine decanter sat with two crystal wine glasses, all covered with fingerprint dust.

A few books sat on the desktop that caught Alex’s interest, one was titled The old ways and another called Torches in the forest Alex looked up to the inspector. “Do you read often inspector? Do you know what these books are about?” The inspector walked to the desk and picked them up with a gloved hand inspecting the titles. “I have not read these books, no. But I’ve heard about this one.” He pointed to “torches in the forest” “It’s a fairy tale book; my wife bought one for my grand daughter some time back. I doubt they have any bearing on the investigation so I wouldn’t waste time on it.”

Alex shrugged it off, making a mental note of the book names. “Of course not, I saw them and thought perhaps. But you are the expert in these things.” Alex walked across the room and saw the painting Emily was disturbed by, it was hung up with a golden painted frame sitting over a small table with yellow candles underneath it. “This was done by Miss Beauchene correct?”

He leaned in and looked at the painting closely. It was bizarre how realistic it looked. It was almost as if it was actually a tiny forest cave. As Alex looked at it he heard the drone of the inspectors voice explaining the painting to him fade. It was as if the painting was grabbing hold of him. Then he saw it, the slightest bit of movement of a leaf. Alex shook his head to hear the inspector’s voice come back into focus. “Mr. Byrne? Were you listening?”

Alex of course heard absolutely nothing he said but none the less he nodded and responded with “Yes, I’m sorry I got a little lost in thought there.” He turned back to the Inspector and nodded to him recomposing himself a bit. “I will see to it that Miss Beauchene knows I found nothing, if for nothing else then to set her mind at ease.” Alex extended his hand to the inspector he simply looked at it as if he were being offered a dead cat. Alex withdrew his hand and nodded to the inspector. “You have my thanks inspector.” With that he turned and started back out of the study and down the stairs feeling the stare of the inspector in his back the whole way out of the building.

He walked down the gravel path and to the gates that were already waiting open for him. He ignored the officer and headed down the street to Emily’s studio nestled fairly close to the estate. That painting had unnerved him in how real it felt and he felt it best to speak with her about the matter. He soon found himself at the door to a rather plain white washed building with a solid oak door.