Conn sat at the bar and reached for the pint when the burly watchman shouldered his way in beside him.

“Why don’t you pay for that and let’s take that to a more private corner,” he said.

Conn followed the man to a table in a dark corner. It hadn’t been vacant, but a long look from the watch sergeant seemed to make the occupants remember urgent business elsewhere.

“That’s quite a talent you have, Sergeant,” said Conn.

“It has its uses,” replied Naith. “Doesn’t seem to make you any more helpful.”

“I’m the very soul of helpfulness,” said Conn, dropping into a seat. “What I’m not is obedient.”

The sergeant sat, keeping a neutral gaze locked on the mercenary. “I did a bit of looking into that tall tale you spun me.”

“Wasn’t me sergeant. The tale comes from the High Priestess of Morwen.”

“Aye. And no wild fiction was ever told by a priest,” said Niath. “Anyway, it seems the dead girl is working at a high end brothel. Now, I’d have assumed that she ran away looking for an exciting new life and to horrify her family, not that she was a hideous undead shell possessed by a malevolent spirit from eons past, but that’s because I’m a simple watchman.”

“There’s none of us perfect, sergeant.”

“But, since I judged that the potential threat to the city was worth digging a bit, I talked to the family. It seems that if the girl did run away, she did an amazing job faking a long illness and a death, including three days lying in a casket while the family mourned.” He paused and took a deep pull from his mug. ‘I’ve seen plenty of young rich girls run away to find some excitement, and plenty follow some young man off and wind up selling themselves. But I’ve never seen one so convincingly fake a death, then murder her young suitor.”

“You aren’t encouraged by the display of ambition by young people today/”

“The girl may still have run off. There may just be a normal explanation. But there are too many things that don’t add up.”

“So what do you propose?”

“It’s odd, but not odd enough that I can investigate official like. And if you are right about her cobbling together information, the last thing I want is to go official. You,” smile the sergeant, “and your lady fried are many things, but official is not one of them.”

“Ah, so I’m guessing you think this is just important enough to look into, but just dangerous enough that it’s not you does the looking.”

“And since I don’t doubt somebody’s already paying you, I consider it a favor to tell you the lass is working at The Velvet Rose on High Street.”

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