Two new guards are here; one inside the door and one at the bottom of the stairs. Jet's men. I trust they'll pay better attention than their predecessors did. A few whores, looking scared, are littered around the taproom. No customers. Lynae goes to talk to the matron, an elegant gray-haired elf the girls call Nana Milya. I move to the bartender. I know him. He pours me a tankard of ale. I take a long drink. It's swill, but it's strong. Better than the stuff I brew.

"We're here about the trouble," I say. "Jet sent us."

"Room three," he says, nodding his head toward the stairs. "Norien's gone, but we haven't cleaned up the room yet."

"Where is her body?" I ask.

"Jet sent some others to fetch her. Not sure where they took her."

"It's fine," interjects the dwarf. "I've already seen her. I want to see the room." He moves up the stairs clumsily. Guess I should have let him talk more. Might have learned something. Enturi and I exchange a glance and he follows the dwarf. I turn back to the bartender.

"So tell me about Norien. Who did this?"

"Couldn't say. I'm usually too busy pouring drinks and taking coin to watch the comings and goings upstairs."

"Did Nana or the girls see or hear anything?"

"Nope. The rooms have locking doors. The walls are built thick to muffle sounds. Besides, you know what goes on here. If anyone heard her scream, they probably thought it was business as usual."

"Nice," I say drily, taking another drink. "Did she have regulars? Were any here last night?"

"She had a host of regulars. She was the prettiest by a long shot. A lot of young pats from the human side came regularly, and there might have been two-three of them last night."

"Might have been?"

"All right, were." He looks resentful. I decide to pay for my drink, cheer him up a bit. I even throw in a little extra. It works.

"But I don't know their names. I might recognize them if they came in again, but I couldn't give you enough to track them down, even if you could go over the wall. Young patrician with black hair, hooknose like a pirate and a full purse. Another one, also young, brown hair, kinda plain, always wears a blue cloak embroidered with gold. Good tipper."

He's right. Those descriptions won't get me anywhere. The cloak sounds like it might have play, but only a fool would keep wearing it after murdering in it. Of course, patricians tend toward foolishness. And hubris.

"Oh yeah," the bartender says. "Calmorien was in too. Funny old elf. Has a bit of a crush on Norien. I figured he was trying to marry her, old fool. As if he ever stood a chance. He is nice enough, though. Not a murderer."

"Where can I find this Calmorien?"

"He has a warehouse down on Dockside. Exports fish sauce. Hey, maybe he saw something."

"Maybe." I am noncommittal. I down the rest of my ale and slide the tankard back across the wooden bar. "Thanks." I look around the room. Lynae and Nana Milya are gone. I glance over the rest of the girls and select the best looking of the bunch. I move over to her. She looks real scared. Good.

"I have some bad news," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes. "About Norien? We already know, tough guy."

"No," I snarl. "About you."

"Me?" She freezes, her touch of sarcasm vanishing.

"Yeah, you. I'm from Jet. We're trying to figure this thing out. Still working on it, unfortunately. But I found a clue. A clue that says that she was killed because she was the prettiest. Now that she's gone, you're the prettiest. And that means you're next in line for the cleaver."

She gasps, eyes big and round like a dead fish. "What clue?" she demands to know. "What clue could possibly say I'm next. It's not true!"

"Oh, it's true all right. You're in danger. Very serious danger. So you gotta be straight up and tell me everything you saw and heard last night. Everything. You wanna live, then stop and think and remember. What did you see?"

"I didn't see anything!" she shrieks, her ash-white skin turning a more frightened shade of pale. The bartender and guards look over questioningly. "Ai! I gotta get out of here. I'm not going to die! I'm not!"

The poor creature pulls away violently and runs for the door, crying. As she flees into the street she screams a last "I didn't see anything! Anything!"

Bloody hell. I might have pushed that one a little harder than she could handle. Well now we definitely better get to the bottom of this. Jet won't be too happy if I scare all the elf-girls off and the whorehouse closes down. The few remaining girls are looking at me like I'm a maggot crawling in their lunch. It might be a good time to see if anyone else has come up with anything.