I didn’t open the envelope. I rolled it and shoved it into my back pocket, pulled the door open, and went in. Everything hurt, as three flights of stairs painfully tugged, pulled, and stretched each gash and bruise. And I don’t mind telling you, I bitched and moaned every step of the way.

I stopped cold on the last step. My place was the first door on the left and I could see the door from where I stood. It was open. Just a crack, but open just the same. I took out my piece, planted my back against the wall, and began edging along the flaking plaster until I was right beside the door. I held my breath so I could hear over my raspy, pained breathing. There was movement inside, drawers opening and closing, paper rustling. It didn’t sound like a shakedown. They don’t close drawers.

“Mo’Lock? Is that you?” I said low, almost a whisper. Ghouls have excellent hearing.

There was a second of complete silence. I lowered the gun at the crack in the door. Another second passed.

“Yes, it’s me, Cal.” The voice was Mo’Lock’s unmistakable low rumble.

I jammed the gun back in my armpit and stepped through the door. The ghoul was at my desk, bent over, looking for something. He straightened and I saw that he was filthy, almost completely covered with grime and soot.

“Are you looking for a moist towelette?”

Mo’Lock bobbed his head. I’d confused him. Any sort of modern reference tends to throw off a guy who’s been dead for over a hundred years. “Well,” he said “something of that sort. I didn’t want to muss up your cloth towels.”

“Ah, go ahead. Just leave one for me.”

That was all the ghoul needed to hear. He turned and trucked out of the room while I gingerly began removing my jacket and tie. Lastly, I kicked off my shoes and untucked my shirt and threw the envelope on the floor. I retrieved the bottle from the desk and several quick swigs later began to feel fuzzy and light. To add to the haze, I threw down a couple of painkillers. By the time the ghoul came back all clean and sparkly, I wasn’t feeling a goddamn thing.

“So what happened? Did you find anything?”

Mo’Lock stepped up to the front of the desk and bent forward. “I assembled a couple of my friends as you asked—”

I interrupted him. “Please, for God’s sake, sit down. You make me crazy.”

The ghoul did as I asked, which brought him to just above eye level.

“My friends and I went to the drainage pipe where the first body was found. But first, I searched the area where the dumpster was located. We found an entrance to the sewer, but didn’t go in. It was too small and smelled terrible. Instead, we doubled back to the larger drainage pipe and entered.” He nodded at the end of the speech, as though some point had been made.