Sitting there quietly, time passed for a while. Delilah’s mother, Grace, was fidgety—nervous. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“So, do you mind telling me how you got my contact?”

She spoke briefly of it, but I needed to hear her say it again. People tend to lie with a bit of truth sprinkled in. That’s what separates the good from the bad ones. The best, however, is that they might very well tell the whole truth, with one key detail missing. That’s why I prefer people repeat themselves, my attention to their eyes.

Apparently, Grace received my contact details after reporting Delilah’s disappearance to the authorities. Sadly, she doesn’t come from a middle-class neighborhood. Law enforcement right now isn’t even prioritizing them. There is an order to things, meaning she was at the bottom.  

It didn’t stop one individual from providing some assistance in the form of my business card.

“He, He was a-about this this tall…”

I got the gist from the description she provided.

“…th-that her name is Sirius Hush Grimes. She will help you. B-best in the city. If anyone c-can find your daughter, it’s going to be her.”

“Is that right?”

Not to toot my own horn, but I truly believe I’m the best the city has to offer. How did I become so skilled? It all comes down to attention to detail and understanding people. Plus, having heightened senses as a vampire doesn’t hurt, either.

“Payment. How do you suppose you can compensate me for my services. My rate is quite high? Did this person who recommended you mention that?”

“I-I ugh…Umm.”

She nervously flashed her neck towards me. Naturally, my presence kept her anxious, beads of sweat glistening off of her skin. That was all she could offer, as I knew funds were tight. Going back and forth on it in my head, I couldn’t very well do it for free, either. She might feel obligated to do something that she shouldn’t in order to scrounge up funds so as not to feel like she owes me. 

“Tell you what. I know a guy. I am sure the city will cover it. While I work out the details and head over and search your place, you can sit tight right here. We can discuss things after that. Okay?”

“Y-you sure? I will do anything. My daughter is all I have left and—”

“Please, don’t fret over it. Everything will be fine. Make yourself at home. As I said, we can talk more when I return.”

Leaving her with some instructions, I went to her residence to look for clues. It was pretty shoddy. The front was barely noticeable. A deli occupied the first floor, and the entrance was tucked between two adjacent buildings. At first sight, it looked like an alley, but a closer look would reveal a path leading a few feet to a set of stairs.

Each step creaked and echoed as I climbed. The metal main door was marked by several dents, a sign that some rowdy individuals had struggled with the passcode at some point in time.

I stood patiently, slipping in just as someone exited. The interior was just as bad, with random items strewn across the hallway and severe water damage visible on the walls. If I’m not mistaken, Grace and Delilah’s apartment was on the top floor, at the far end.

Grace had given me a key to enter, but upon reaching the door, I found it already ajar. Laying there on the sofa was a man, half asleep, scratching his ass with a few bottles lying about.

“Hello.”

My words went to wake him with a startle.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I could be asking you the same thing. Do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

I flashed him my ID before depositing it back inside my coat and taking a proper look around. He didn’t seem to care before telling me to leave his place. It’s interesting, given that what I know is that this is Grace and Delilah’s apartment.

“Hey! I won’t tell you again! Get out of here before I call the cops!”

“The cops, sure, would love to know what you’re doing in someone else’s home. Call them.”

“EXCUSE ME?!? Watch who yer talking to. I own this place. Last I checked, you were on my property. Don’t tell me you’re friends with that whore?”

Okay, so now we are getting somewhere. I take it he is the landlord, a rather intrusive one.

“Sure, you can say that. Grace wanted me to come collect her things, as she was nervous that she had some stalker. That wouldn’t be you, would it?”

“STALK—Youse tell that bitch, she owes me money, ya here.”

“How much,” I asked out of curiosity. His curt reply was four months’ worth. How he let a tenant stay that long with so much debt left me with a few unsavory ideas.

I paid him cash right there on the spot. It put him in a better mood, albeit slightly, given he was here to collect on more than just rent. He turned to his own business, probably to harass whomever else lived within these walls.

With me, myself, and I alone again, I scoured the apartment for any clues, only to find hardly anything worth much. The place had minimal furniture and personal belongings to scour through. Photos, clothes, and some notebooks. One thing that stood out to me was a stuffed animal—a purple cat-like doll, hand-stitched and sewn together.

Delilah had mentioned something about a cat. This single item wasn’t much to work with, but it was a start. Tucking it under my arm, I pried open a window to let in some fresh air, as the room felt a bit stuffy.

While the landlord might have allowed me some privacy to do my job, he seemed eager to snoop about. His footsteps grew louder as he peeked back in. 

“Oi, by the way…”

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze going wide.

“Y-you’re one of them!”

His stammering words made me realize my sharp ears were sticking out from my hair. I usually try to hide them and avoid direct eye contact. While this usually works, it seems that my hair has shifted from the way I had combed it.

“You’re a—I have gotta call them—”

Before he could turn on his heels to run, I gave one solid jab to knock him down. I dragged him in to lay him back on the sofa just as I had found him. He might wake up and think it was all a dream, but the weight of my money in his pocket might not make it all that convincing.

Retrieving it back, I left to head across town to meet an old contact.

The Cross Brass Tavern is a cozy pub famous for its distinctive maple-style drinks. While I’m not much of a drinker, I can manage when necessary. 

“Seriously?!”

“Funny, I could say the same about you, Lieutenant. Of course, I would find you here.”

“I only stopped in for one—”

“Give me a break. If you aren’t answering my calls, then there is only one reason. And, of course, it would be at the bottom of a mug.”

Lieutenant Woods leaned forward, embarrassed that I had caught him red-handed.

“So what do you want?”

“You sending people to my doorstep now?”

“Heh? Well, if you aren’t going to go out and find cases, then at the very least, I will send some your way. You’re a detective.”

“Private detective,” I clarified. “Let’s not forget the cops and their duties. But they are too busy right now, aren’t they? To care about a woman and her missing child who aren’t from a fancy place with a fancy name.”

“Oh, give me a break. Did you take the case or not? Because if you didn’t, then you are no better than the bastards that you’re trying to criticize. I’ve got guys working around the clock. The boys upstairs have to take certain incentives for certain priority individuals. What are you doing?”

“She’s not in the best of situations.”

“So take the case for free.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Okay, so what are you getting at…” The Lieutenant shot to shut me down. His breath was full of ale. “What do you want from me? You only ever want to talk when it is the case. Get on with it…”

“The department will handle my fees on her behalf.”

“If you’re going to find one kid, might as well find the rest of them and help out the department—”

“No. My case is to find a missing child of a mother who came to me for help. The cops are to locate the perpetrator. And given the details thus far, it might very likely be the Piper.”

“It’s impossible, and you know it.”

“At the very least, it’s a copycat fanatic. Regardless, will the department sign off on this yes or no?”

“Hmph, I will see what I can do,” the Lieutenant said in an irritated, wise, cracked tone. “I am sure the D.A. will be okay with it. Was that all?”

“Yeah.”

“What about the second thing?”

“Fucking sober up. You’re a mess, and your phone has been ringing.”

“It has?”

The stumbling Lieutenant swayed as he retrieved his phone from his coat pocket. The conversation was brief before it ended.

“What do you know? Looks like there is a potential lead uptown. One of my guys—”

“You’ve got guys?” I questioned dubiously. “One’s that listen to you?”

“Aye, is that so hard to believe?!”

“Whatever…”

“Yeah, whatever, I suppose,” he shot before finishing his swig before getting up. He didn’t bother saying much else before heading out, leaving me alone to sit to pay for his tab.

“Unbelievable he is…” I said, tossing the cash before finding myself in the accompaniment of another.

“You Sirius Hush Grimes?”

“…yeahhhh. Whose asking?” I said skeptically. 

“He sends his regards.”

“Who—?”

A bang went off. Screams loomed out ever so barely through one ear and out the other from the background. Everything felt heavy and still. My vision quickly fogged over as all I saw was black.

[Local time: 12:17am]

“This is 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, hi—oh my god. Oh my god!”

“H-Hello—”

“She was—“

“Sir, please calm down; what happened?”

“Someone’s been shot. She was just sitting at the bar and—oh god! I don’t know. They were wearing a hoodie. I couldn’t—oh god. They just, just came in and shot her in the head and walked right out!”

“Where are you now, sir?”

“Cross Brass Tavern. M-Midtown. Oh my—it’s everywhere! There’s blood everywhere!” 

“Sir, dispatch is on the way. First responders have been contacted. They will all arrive shortly.”

“Oh my god! I think I think she’s dead! Th-there’s no pulse!”