And then there was a voice behind me. Polite, well-spoken, and tinged with an accent I couldn't place.

"Excuse me, please. Would you be John Taylor?"

I took my time turning around, careful not to look startled, even though my heart had just missed a beat. There aren't many people capable of catching me by surprise. I pride myself on being very hard to sneak up on. In the Nightside, that's a survival skill.

Standing before me was a short, stocky type with a dark complexion, kind eyes, and jet-black hair an beard, both carefully shaped. He was wearing a long, . flowing coat of a very expensive cut.

"I might be," I said. "Depends. Who might you be?"

"I am Jude."

"Hey, Jude."

He frowned slightly. It was clear he didn't get the reference. I smiled patiently.

"I'm Taylor. What can I do for you, Jude?"

He glanced at Alex, then took in the other beings lining the bar, all pretending not to listen with varying amounts of skill. Jude turned back and met my gaze steadily. "If we could talk in a private place, Mr. Taylor. I have a commission for you. It pays very well."

"You just said the magic words, Jude. Step into my office."

I led him to one of the private booths at the back of the bar, and we sat down facing each other across the table. Jude gazed around the bar. It was clear this was all unknown territory to him. He didn't look like the kind of person you'd find in a bar, though on the other hand I wasn't sure where I would place him. There was something about the man... He didn't fit any of the usual patterns. He looked like someone with secrets. He fixed me again with those warm brown eyes, as though willing me to like him, and leaned forward across the table to address me, his voice low and confidential.

"I represent the Vatican, Mr. Taylor. The Holy Father wishes you to find something for him."

"The Pope wants to hire me? What happened? Somebody steal his ring?"

"Nothing so trivial, Mr. Taylor."

"Why didn't he send a priest?"

"He did. I'm ... undercover." He glanced around the bar again, and didn't seem at all pleased or comfortable with what he saw. It wasn't so much that he looked judgemental, more ... mystified, and perhaps even uneasy. He looked back at me and smiled almost shyly. "I don't get out much, these days. It's been a long time since I was out in the world. I was chosen to approach you because I have . . . some special knowledge of the missing item. You see, normally I'm in charge of the Forbidden Library at the Vatican. The secret, hidden chambers underground, where the Church stores texts too dangerous or too disturbing for most people."

"Like the Gospel According to Pilate?" I couldn't help showing off a little. "The translation of the Voynich Manuscript? The Testimony of Grendel Rex?"