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I stopped for a moment, apparently engrossed in the wares of a closed-up shop whose plate-glass window was still just visible behind the chain-link shutter. I stared at my own reflection. A big Goblin, tall and strong yet, bulky around the shoulders, stared back, his pointy ears and long nose - not unlike those of any other Goblin, of course - partially disguised by the turned-up collar of a long raincoat and a brimmed hat pulled down low. Still just visible were a pair of tired-looking green eyes, eyes that had seen too much of the world and its people at their worst, and hadn't totally given up hope just yet. I refocused my eyes in the reflection over my shoulder, hoping to catch a better view of the person dogging my footsteps. Nothing doing. I didn't really expect to. He was far too good to fall for that old trick, whoever he was. I smirked at my reflection, who returned the compliment, then turned on my heel and set off again. I had completed my deliveries for the day. I could go back tomorrow, pick up another batch of subpoenas and codicils for dispatch, earn another few bucks. I'd need to go back to collect the balance of my fee for today, in any case. The few bills that made up the advance were still in my pocket. I was tired and hungry. My legs and back ached from wearing the built-up shoes that are an essential part of my disguise as a human - Goblins are much shorter than most women and almost all men. Time to get a late dinner, a large beer and an early night. That sounded just what the doctor would order for the worn-out and overworked Private Eye. It was another ten minutes brisk walk to get to the nearest transit tube entrance. These are usually a bit more crowded, even at this late hour, and maybe I'd be able to get a better look at my tail. I made my way though the wide arched entrance to the tube station and down the steps, following the signs which directed me to entrance I wished to use. The approach tunnels were well-lit and there were a few people around: a group of chattering youngsters - none of them over fifty, I expect - on their way to a club or concert; a number of tired business types and office workers in pressed suits touting briefcases, on their way home after working late, and the odd staggering drunk trying to remember where he lived. I milled around for ten minutes, trying to give the impression that I had unaccountably lost the ability to follow the directions pasted on every wall while surreptitiously watching the passers-by. But still no sign of the person following me. I stepped through the transit itself which whisked me instantaneously to the low-rent cavern where I have a small office. But that was't my immediate destination. I climbed the stairs back to street level, again taking my time and keeping at least one eye over my shoulder. I made the exit and walked the half-dozen blocks to my favourite diner, or at least the one I frequent most often. My tail seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps he wasn't all that good after all. David the avuncular proprietor was standing at his accustomed post, just inside the door, keeping a watchful eye on the street outside, and another watchful eye on the assorted relatives and employees who actually did all the cooking and waiting on tables. He saw me coming and opened the door politely. "Good evening, Findo," he said urbanely, flourishing the regular menu - which I knew by heart anyway - and a hand-written sheet featuring today's specials, "Your usual table?" "Yes, thank you." David certainly knew how to butter up a good customer, or at least a very regular one. I scanned the interior of the restaurant automatically. The joint was nearly empty: just one bulky guy with his back to me studying the menu closely at a table in the window, and two or three tables in darker corners occupied by couples paying a lot of attention to each other and none at all to anything else in the world. I was just about to follow David to the quiet booth at the back he knew I preferred when the big Goblin at the window table put down the menu card and twisted in his seat. "Ah, Findo Gask, at last," he said in a loud and confident tone, adding, "You've come down in the world."
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Part 1