"Right," Gamshack agreed, emitting a series of throttled snorts which I knew from prior experience to be his laughter, "I'll be less obvious."

He stood up in one motion, and picked up his overcoat and hat from the hatstand behind the door. Gumshoe was something of a traditionalist when it came to the sartorial appearance of the well-dressed private eye, or perhaps it was just because that's what the punters expected.

"Do you want me to call you later?" he asked, tugging the hat down over his eyes.

"Yeah," I assented, "Leave a message with my service."

I prised myself from the oversized chair and shook out my coat.

"I'll get below," I suggested, "See what I can shake loose about Nether. Somebody must know something, even after all these years. I’ll see of the Lower Realms cops have any information."

He nodded his agreement, the modest dip of the head marking one professional's acknowledgement of another's professionalism.

Standard practice dictated that Gumshoe and I should not be seen leaving together. Gamshack left first, striding out of his own office as if he owned the place, pausing only to turn off the electric lights, and then making for the elevator. I waited quietly in the dark for twenty-odd minutes, alternately mulling over the inexplicable disappearance of this human called Rosie and the uncharacteristically altruistic behaviour of my brother.

When the time was up, I slipped back down the stairs - I doubted that anybody else in this low-rent building was bugging the entrances - and out through a fire exit which opened onto a deserted alley. The side-street was blocked at one end, and I had no option but to follow it back to the main road, where I cautiously emerged not far from the main entrance. The New York street was just as dark and wet as when I arrived. I drew up my collar against the weather and scuttled off in the direction of the alley where the entrance to the Lower Realms was located.

I walked quickly, keeping to the shadows, hugging the buildings and the patches of shadow that lay between the streetlights. In my line of business, you cultivate a certain sense of professional paranoia, an awareness of what is going on around you, which is so much embedded in the subconscious that it becomes almost like a sixth sense.

I had a feeling, a prickling at the back of my neck, that I was being watched. I glanced around unobtrusively and my suspicions were confirmed when I caught sight of somebody lurking in the damp shadows across the street. I thought I recognised the bulky shape of a big human, much taller than Gumshoe and even blockier about the shoulders. He was definitely following me, very skilfully keeping to places where he would be difficult to spot and taking advantage of the occasional passer-by to conceal his movements. And there was another worrying thing, too. I thought I could just hear a soft click – inaudible to humans, I expect – which sounded just like the safety catch of a large automatic being disabled. I redoubled my pace, heading for the entrance to the world below.

Humans can enter the Lower Realms, if they want to - and they know how to. They can even leave again afterwards. It's not forbidden, exactly. But very few do. It is very hard for them to remain inconspicuous. The caverns are dark; Goblins can see better than a human in those conditions and a dazzling light - from an electric torch, for example - is more likely to attract unwanted attention than to assist the visitor in finding their own way about. For these reasons, many visitors from the surface engage a guide; it is a role I have undertaken myself a time or two, and indeed this was how I made the acquaintance of Martin Gamshack in the first place, all those years ago.

Besides, almost all humans tower over Goblins, which makes it difficult to get through the smaller spaces - doors, for example. And of course they stand out in a crowd, head and shoulders above everybody else. In recent years, a few humans - presumably selected to be smaller than the norm - have been seen making their way around wearing bulky goggles which I was told was military night-vision equipment. But they have been few and far between.

So it was a fair bet that my tail would not attempt to follow me below. Sure enough, when I reached the graffiti’d wall in the alley and make the few gestures which opened the portal, he was nowhere to be seen. But maybe he had an accomplice in the Lower Realms. I flashed my buzzer at the border guards, wound my senses up one more notch and sought out the transit tube which would take me back to my office.

Part 13

Part 15