Still, he had very little doubt after his experience at the Empire Club that that was what he was dealing with in Richard Munroe. Kane just hoped that if Munroe were responsible for the chaos that had touched the Club that he could wing it long enough to figure out how to deal with the situation. Darius Stoner had spoken highly of Munroe, though, so Kane realized that there was an outside chance that the man might not be a real factor at all. Given his previous experience with the supernatural, though, beings like Munroe were almost always involved in the trouble in one way or another. 

As if in proof of his thoughts, Kane could see fire trucks ahead as he drove down Mission Street. 
 
 

"I'm afraid the ones responsible for this have had an accident involving an automobile going at high speed and a wall." Richard said calmly as he padded into the room on bare feet. "How very sad and short life can be." 

F.M. placed himself between the man and the secretary. Chances were this was the Munroe character the girl was asking about, but he didn't know him from Adam. He sure recognized the suit, though, and he wasn't about to let some werewolf of London carry the girl out through his window. 

Richard regarded the dwarf as he picked up his coat and dusted it off, then put it on. "And you are?" he said calmly. 

FM crossed his arms. He didn't want to leave himself open for a handshake until he was sure there'd be no claws involved. "F.M. Buck, the proprietor of this fine, flame-damaged business. Now, who are you bub?" 

"Richard Munroe, Attorney at Law." Richard said calmly, extending his hand. The cuffs of his shirt were ragged tatters, poking out from beneath his overcoat. 

After only a slight pause, F.M. shook hands. "Force Majeure Buck," he said. "But everybody calls me F.M. My card." 

"Force Majeure?" Richard asked, raising a slender ash-blonde eyebrow. "How... unique." Richard looked at the card quickly as he passed it to him: 
 

"Thank you for seeing to Miss Smith's safety, Mr. Buck. It's nice to know that there are still gentlemen in this day and age." The lawyers green eyes were like steel shutters - nothing could be read in them. 

"Any time," Buck answered. 

Richard looked at Karen. "We should go. I would recommend you stay away from your apartment for awhile, as those who started this will undoubtedly wish to finish it. And you. If you have nowhere to go, I would be happy to put you up in a flat until this is resolved." 

All the strange behavior the man had been exhibiting before the fire was gone. This was the Richard she remembered. A little standoffish, and perhaps cold. But still normal. And she didn't like it. 

"Now hold it right there buster!" she said, ire rose in her voice. Karen felt like she had two choices, either cry or get angry. She chose the latter. "I've spent half the night worryin upstairs, you barge in tellin me the guy I loved is dead, then the whole office goes up in flames! You turn inta somethin outta the zoo and start draggin me around the buildin like a sack a potatoes! Next thing I know this guy comes in eyeballin me, then you show up without any shoes on actin like everythin's all normal." At this her face flushed the color of her hair. She walked straight up to Richard and put a finger into his chest. "I wanna know what's goin on, and I wanna know now!" 

"I wouldn't mind knowing a few things myself," F.M. said. "Like whoever's behind almost burning down my livelihood." 

Anger, bright and golden, the smell of it poured from her. Staring into his eyes as she was, Karen watched the green of Richard's drain from them, like bath water after the plug has been pulled. The shape of them altered as well; they were larger now, rounder, and a deep amber in hue. He was trembling. She saw him take a deep breath, and he leaned into the finger that she had poked into his chest. His tongue flicked across his lips in a way that was almost sensuous. 

"Lee is dead, Miss Smith. He was stabbed, repeatedly, in the back and chest. Then he was probably rolled from a vehicle and left to die like an animal in the streets." That echo was back in his voice again, the one that caused all the fine hairs on her neck to stand on end. Richard slowly reached up and encased her small hand, finger still jabbing him, within his own. His hand was hot, like he was running a fever. 

"But like so many others before them have done, the killers underestimated him. They knew only what they saw - and Miss Smith - what we see is never..." he moved his face closer to her own, in a gesture that would have been intimate in any other circumstance "...never what is real. You would do well to remember that, if you want to live to a ripe old age." 

He pulled back away from her, releasing her hand and actually backing up until he bumped into the wall. His eyes closed, and he took a couple of deep breaths. When he opened them again, they were green. "Please, I know you're grieving, and you seek understanding. But try to control that for just a little while longer." 

"I still want to know who!" F.M. said, stepping into the space between them. He didn't like grown men scaring the fairer sex, so he decided to give the fellow a tougher target. 

Richard's gaze swung to the dwarf. Buck would almost swear the man looked embarrassed. "Someone named Sung seems responsible for almost burning down the building." Richard said softly. "I don't know any more than that at the moment. But I have people working on the matter. I'm sorry about your business, sir." He shrugged. "You are insured?"

"Ah... funny thing about insurance, they make you pay for it." Buck looked up at the ceiling -- or rather, the blackened, dripping hole where the detective's desk threatened to fall through. "I was kinda hoping the detective was insured." He laughed. "Now, judging by the sirens, the fire boys are going to bouncing up those stairs in a minute. Do you want to stick around and answer questions, or do you want to skedaddle?" 

Karen turned to face both of them. "Now maybe I'm not making myself clear. The guy I loved is dead. My job is gone." She turned to F.M., "The detective you hope is insured is dead, okay? And you!" she whirled to face Richard, her face scarlet, her whole body shaking with anger, "You've been keeping me at arm's length all night! You knew Lee was dead earlier tonight on the phone, didn't you? But you wouldn't tell me... well I had a right to know! Just as I have a right to know why. You think it may be connected to the case he was working on, you even asked me if I could help. And now you want to shut me up?" 

Richard seemed to sag against the wall, his hands balled into fists. He couldn't handle much more of this. It was too much, too soon. The room was filled with Karen's anger, and it called to that other part of him like a lover; and Richard so wanted to lose himself in it. 

"You don't understand." he whispered, shaking his head, eyes still closed.  He fought the change as best he could, but it was becoming a close thing. Too close. Too much emotion. And now from outside, the excitement/fear of the crowd was swirling in from the open window, adding to the feast. He wasn't prepared for this. He'd spent so much time insulating himself from it that when it struck him, he was defenseless. 

"You think I do what I do to frighten you. I don't blame you. It frightens me as well. But I don't." he looked across the room at her. "I don't have a choice, sometimes. It comes and goes as it pleases." He shook his head. He was saying too much. He had no idea what Buck was making of all of this. And a part of him was angry that he had to explain it all to this... woman... That as powerful as he was, she could strip his humanity from him with her mere presence. "Lee understood, you see." he said. "He was the only one who could." 

In that moment, they realized F.M. had been right, in fact the fire engines had already arrived. All three could hear them outside and the noise of the firemen starting their way into the building. Karen knew an opportunity when she saw one. "Alright, Mr. Munroe. Tell ya what, you wanna pull a spook act on me
again, go ahead. But I'm tellin you, you can either talk ta me, or you can talk ta them. Cuz it seems we ain't movin from this building fer a while." She turned to grin over at F.M., "You got some java in this place?" 

F.M. was suddenly sheepish. "Ma'am, I'll make you a pot of anything you like. I was out of line, there, talking so flippant about a loved one. Please accept my apology." Karen smiled sadly back at F.M., showing thanks and an apology of her own. "Well, then," he said, "I'll get the water going." 

Richard laughed. "Spook act..." His feet hurt, and he saw that he was bleeding from treading on the glass strewn on the floor. It didn't matter. He padded over to the window and looked down, the night breeze ruffling his hair. "Miss Smith, you have no idea...." he laughed again, a private thing, then turned back towards the others. Someone not a fireman was coming. Someone smelling of cologne, and talc. 

"I know you loved Lee, Miss Smith. I can smell it. I know you would wring the answers from Lucifer himself if you could. But the answers just aren't here yet. And staying here and talking to fireman and police will help you find those answers not at all. Rage at me if you like, but know that if you go too far, I'll leave you knowing nothing. It's Lee I owe, not you." 

The breeze was clearing his head, helping him regain control. "You've given me all the real assistance that you can. I have Lee's notes. I know how he was killed, and where. I'll find out the rest in time." He knew Karen was tough. But he was tougher. And that someone in the hall was getting closer. 

"And Miss Smith? You're welcome." he gestured at the hole in the ceiling, a slightly mocking smile touched his lips. 

That simple gesture was like a slap to her face. Richard could see the anger drain from her. "I'm sorry. Thank you. You did save my life. This has just happened all so fast..." she let the sentence trail off and turned away from them both. When she turned back, a single tear ran down her cheek. "I know he was your friend too, I forgot that in my pain. But ya gotta understand. I've been feeling all night like stuff has just been happenin to me, you know? Like I ain't in control." Karen thought back to when her mother died, how she'd never even known her father. And now Lee... "I just want ta help. Please?" 

She paused and looked down. "Sometimes I felt like Lee was the only one to understand me too. We both loved Lee, well I guess I owe it ta him ta try and understand you." Karen looked back up to Richard, and her eyes brimmed with tears. 

"They saw you." Richard said to Buck. "You put out the fire, and stopped them. They'll try to make you pay." He glanced at the doorway. "And someone is coming. Not a fireman." 

F.M. grinned as he cracked an egg and let the yolk drop into the metal filter that held the coffee grounds. "I'd like that if they tried," he said, " and I hope it's the milkman coming. I'm out of cream." 

He looked over at Karen, his face again unreadable. "He was my friend, but to you he was more. I do not belittle you're feelings. On the contrary," he finished the sentence in his thoughts, "I enjoy them." Again his glance went to the door... 
 
 

As he drove along Mission Street, he saw fire trucks ahead and policemen at the scene. "This must be the building," he thought. They were hard at work, trying to sort through what had occurred there. Kane pulled around the corner to avoid direct questioning by the police and parked the car. Continuing on around the block, he approached the rear entrance of the building. 

He could sense magic in the air, could almost taste it. It was strong, yet somehow subdued, its strength something you could know was there, but not actually feel directly. It led him through the first floor and towards the main staircase. 

Firemen were starting to make their way up the stairs ahead of him, Elias hung back enough that he could follow up, where the trail of mystic energy lead him, without being spotted. It was made easier since they obviously had a lot on their minds. They continued up to the third floor, but Kane found himself turning onto the second floor. 

From down the hall he heard voices in an office, who's door read "Survival Mechanics Co." Kane heard the conversation on the other side, hearing three voices, two male and one female, though he couldn't really hear what they were saying. He wondered if one of those men was Munroe, and if so, why the other two were with the lycanthrope. Was it force, or were they working together? Were they shape changers, too? Kane decided that there was only one way that he was likely to find out, so he knocked at the door. 

F.M. let the water start to boil, then answered the door. Before him stood a man dressed in a dark gray suit his bright green eyes took in the people in the room, pausing briefly as they gazed at Richard. The man exuded an air of intensity and Richard couldn't help but feel that he knew the man from somewhere. "Hello," the man said. "I am Elias Kane, and I'm looking for Richard Munroe." 

"You've found him." Richard replied quietly, leaning back against the window frame and crossing his arms. "To what, and to whom, do I owe the pleasure?" Richard kept the Primal close to the surface while studying this man. For all he knew, the stranger could have been sent to finish the job that the oriental had started. 

Kane forced a smile onto his face to keep from grimacing. Though he was actively trying to ignore it, Munroe positively reeked of supernatural power, though for the life of him Kane could not identify it. The presence of the other two people in the room complicated matters more than just a little bit. Were they in cahoots with the lycanthrope? Or did they not know his secret? For that matter, Munroe himself was a huge cipher at the moment. Was he a willing or unwilling owner of this ability? There were too many questions that would have to be left for another time. Until then, Kane vowed silently to keep a careful watch on Munroe. 

"As I said, I am Elias Kane. I was told by Darius Stoner that I might be of service to you in your hunt for the killer, or killers, of Lee Hoffman." Kane looked meaningfully up at the charred ceiling. "Looks like my hunch that you might be in for more trouble was right." 

"Hey, it ain't that bad," the dwarf said, striding forward. He was just over three feet tall, with black, bushy lamb chop sideburns and a receding hairline. He wore a heavy looking leather vest covered with pockets. Pliers, screwdrivers, wires, and odd-looking tools jutted out of the flaps. It was something a fly fisherman might wear, if he were casting for Buicks. His boots were heavy, cumbersome looking things with steel toes and what might be steel soles as well. 

"Flavius Marcellus Buck," the man said, offering his hand. "But everybody calls me F.M. " 

"I imagine so," Kane said flatly, taking F.M.'s hand. "Elias Kane. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I take it this is your shop?" he asked, looking around again. "Hope you have insurance." 

Richard watched the exchange between the two men with interest. Kane was nervous, but was hiding it well. Of course, who wouldn't be nervous standing in a fire zone and discussing a murder? If Stoner had recommended him, then perhaps this Kane fellow was more than he appeared. "Miss Karen Smith," Richard said to Kane, nodding his head at Lee's secretary. "She was Lee's secretary, and friend." 

"Sorry that we have to meet under such circumstances, ma'am," Kane said to the young woman. 

The lawyer still hadn't moved from the window, and Kane noticed that the big mans suit, while expensive, was torn and ragged. And he was barefoot, and bleeding from a few cuts on his feet. "If I'd had any doubts..." Kane thought, "I wonder what these two know?" 

"Tell me Mr. Kane. What type of assistance can you lend?" Richard asked. 

"Well, for starters, Darius gave me the fortune that you got from Lee to work on. When I leave here, I will be going back home to see what sense I can make of it." As Kane spoke, he tried to subtly work his way around the room so that there was a direct line between him and Munroe. If the man started to change again, he wanted to be able to knock him through the window and away from the others. "But I am more than just an academic, Mr. Munroe. I am a private detective with some experience in solving rather.... difficult cases." 

"It's linked with someone called Sung, if that helps any." Richard replied. "And the dagger Lee was stabbed with was rather unique; its hilt was carved with a dragon, and above it was carved a phoenix clutching an orb." 

"Yes, I did a quick sketch of the hilt when Darius showed it to me. Very interesting, and it seemed oddly familiar somehow." 

The room smelled horrible. Charred lumber, water, and emotions. Richard strained to keep the look of disgust off his face. He glanced at the hole in the ceiling, and hoped that the fireman would be able to keep the desk from crashing into Buck's apartment. Really, the man had been most levelheaded and helpful about all of this. "Why don't we leave here and head back to my apartments?" Richard asked. "I would like to change, and if what I am hearing is correct, there is a detective coming up with the fireman that I'd rather not deal with at the moment. Being at the scene of one crime is coincidence, being at the scene of two is not." Richard smiled. 

"I'll handle the detective and firemen," Buck said. "You folks can take off." 

"Karen, you have my card.  My address is on it. What say we join forces again in an hour or so?" 

"Sure, I'll stay with F.M.," she said, looking grateful, "I'll need ta talk ta the authorities bout upstairs and all too. Don't worry Richard, I'll keep a lid on things." She smiled at calling him Richard, she liked being treated like an equal. That's how Lee always thought of her. 

"Mr. Buck, please attend. If only because I'd like to write a check to cover some of these damages." 

"Forget about the damages -- I just want to get this Sung character. Count me in." 

Hearing the men outside growing ever closer, Richard frowned. "Do me a kindness please, and don't mention that I've been here. Mr. Buck was the one who dealt with the fire, after all. I'll explain more as I can." He crossed the room to stand directly in front of the window. "If you would all please turn away for a just a minute?" 

At first Kane thought it a strange request, but saw the others obliging so he did the same. He felt the energy building up in the man and realized that he was about to transform again. Kane resisted the temptation to try and sneak a peek, keeping his back turned towards Munroe. 

He changed, went through onto the fire escape, then leapt out into the night. 

When it was clear that Munroe was gone, Kane said, "Did you folks know that he could do that?" 

"Do what?" F.M. said. "Go invisible?" 

Karen just shrugged her shoulders, "I've seen some weird things tonight, but I'll figure 'em out later. Munroe saved my life, that's as far as I'm lookin now." 

Kane started to explain what he meant, but thought that perhaps both of them were trying to cover for Munroe. He decided to let it go for the moment. "Have either of you known him for long?" Kane asked. 

"Lee has..." she stopped, frowned at having to consider Lee dead, "...had known Richard for years, I've met a few times in the office, but that's it." 

"I've known him about twice as long as I've known you," F.M. said, laughing. "But you're going to be my bestest oldest friend for a couple minutes while I talk to the fire boys and the detective. They probably heard a woman and a couple men talking. So, Kane, you're now my drinking buddy who stopped by to visit when you saw the fire trucks. Karen, you were working in the office when somebody tossed a Molotov cocktail from the window -- and you don't know why, who, or what for. You ran downstairs, and I ran up to put out the fire. If you got any objections, raise 'em now, 'cause we've got about 30 seconds to get our stories straight-- if that." 

Before Karen could respond, there was a knock on the door. "Hello? It's Captain Marshall of the Fire Department, I have a police detective with me and we'd like to ask you some questions about the fire
upstairs," a voice called through the glass. 

Karen was able to nod her agreement to F.M. as he approached the door, opening it wide. He saw the captain and detective stare in confusion at the empty space behind the door, until they dropped their gaze to Buck's three feet and two inches. "Fire Marshall!" Buck said. "Great name! I'm Francois Maupin Buck, but everybody calls me F.M." He shook Marshall's hand, then the detective's, and handed business cards to both of them. "Didn't mean to put you out of work, but I'm the fella that doused the fire upstairs. Darn near burned through my ceiling." He jerked his head toward the hole above the middle of the room. 

Fire Captain Marshall exhaled loudly, if he heard that joke just one more time… "Sorry to disturb your
evening folks, but I've got to investigate the fire upstairs. So, you put the fire out?" He looked F.M. up and down, "Well, who helped you then?" 

"Just my crippled grandmother," Buck said, bristling. "Whaddya mean, who helped? You think maybe only a big tall boy like you can hold a hose?" 

One hand went up to tip his cap back on his head, the other covered his mouth and wiped down his chin. As Det. Lt. Leo F.X. Monahan pushed by him through the doorway, he gave Marshall a pat on the back and a look. Common sense bit back Marshall's retort, he did have an investigation to get on with. "Well... at least you were thorough about it," he offered begrudgingly. "We discovered clear evidence of arson. Did you happen to see or hear anything out of the unusual? Was anyone there at all?" 

"I heard the crash of glass breaking," Buck said. "Then the sound of the fire. It wasn't long I could smell smoke and gasoline -- pretty clear evidence of arson. I went up the fire escape with my fire extinguisher, cut a clear path to the hallway, then finished up with the hallway hose. Miss Smith there had already gotten out." 

"Hold on a sec Marshall, I better let these folks know a couple of things." Monahan pulled out a notepad and a pencil from inside his overcoat, using the latter as a way of emphasis for his words, "The fire upstairs is now connected with a murder investigation folks, so's the captain is here is gonna ask ya some questions. But I get to have the honors as well. Each of ya, one at a time. Starting with..." his eyes scanned the room, stopping on Elias, "You Kane. Just what in the Saints' name are ya doing here?" 

"You know me, Detective," Kane said. "Always where the excitement is." 

Monahan walked over to Kane, putting his bulky frame between he and the others. "Is that coffee I smell brewin?" he looked over his shoulder, "Grab me a cup wouldja toots?" 

Karen glared at his back, but took a mug from beside the pot and filled it. Buck caught her look and realized that if she wasn't trying to smooth things over, Monahan might've wound up with his coffee and no cup. Monahan just stood there, giving Kane the once over. "Hope ya like it black, seems we're all out of cream." she said, handing it to Monahan. 

He took a long swallow, then lowered the mug, his eyes never leaving Kane's. "Investigatin a murder is tiring work Kane. Sooner I get ta bed tonight the better I'll be in the mornin. And I intend to have a nice mornin. I don't want to be up all night talking to the lot of you at the station. So tell me like I can believe it, what're you doin here?" 

Kane thought for only a second. There was no use in telling Monahan anything other than the truth. The man was too perceptive and too experienced to be readily fooled. But that didn't mean that he had to tell him all of the truth. "I have been engaged by some of Lee Hoffman's friends to look into his untimely demise," Kane said, Seeing the flare go off in Monahan's eyes, Kane tried to forestall the man by saying, "I know that this is police business. I have no intention of hampering your investigation in any way. I may be able to help you bring Mr. Hoffman's killers to light in a more expedient manner." 

Buck wanted to slap his forehead, and Karen looked like she wanted to give Kane some coffee of his own. The short man wondered whatever happened to the 'old drinking buddies' story.

"Yeah right Kane, you always say that then afterwards give me this apologetic doe-eyed look. You think you can be expedient about helping me explain the two stiffs hangin out a car down the street? You gonna get em sized up fer Chicago overcoats? Or what about the monster some of the mugs on the street claimed was ridin the boiler before it decided ta nose dive inta a brick wall?" Monahan looked at Kane, "All of a sudden like, I'm startin ta get the itch ta head downtown. You wanna scratch it by tellin me who hired you?" 

"Certainly, Detective," Kane said. "Darius Stoner engaged my services. I was in the process of stopping by at his suggestion to see Ms. Smith and to talk to my friend, Mr. Buck, when I saw all of the fire trucks and cars outside. Looks like whoever is involved in all this beat me here." 

Monahan tried to keep the smile off his face. For once a dick was actually playing straight with him! Well, as far as he could tell, anyway. "Is that so? Seems I met Mr. Stoner earlier this evening, and I know you won't mind me following up on that." Monahan almost swore, Kane was still keeping the same straight face. Without someone talking back, this was taking the fun out of being all loud and angry. 

"And you miss? Are you Ms. Smith?" Karen nodded her assent. Monahan turned toward her ready to bring his gruffness back full bore. "And how are you related ta all this mess?" 

"I was Lee's secretary, and now he's... he's..." suddenly Karen burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. She ran into Monahan's outstretched arms, and he stood there for a second, undecided, before wrapping his arms around her. Karen continued sobbing into his shoulder, "I called Mr. Stoner... at the club... and he told me..." Karen gave way again to long crying jag, then caught her breath in gulps, "I was here gettin my purse cuz I forgot it, and just as I opened the door to leave I heard a crash behind me and then everything was on fire!" 

"There, there missy," consoled Monahan, "It's all over now. The fire's out, and don't you worry none." He pulled her away from his shoulder to look her in the eye. "My name's Detective Lt. Leo Monahan, I knew Lee good and he was a real right guy." He reached inside his coat and handed her a card, "If you need anything at all, you just call me at this number here. I'll catch the fellas responsible for this young lady." 

"Okay, Kane I know how to reach you, now you other two give me your numbers and if we need anything we'll call. I'll need to talk to you all again before this is over, but right now the da... the lady needs to get out of this place and go home." 

Fire Captain Marshall started to protest from where he stood with Buck, but Monahan held up a hand. "That's enough Ron. These guys seem on the level and if not I'll find out soon enough. Sides, the little guy here did a good job," he said indicating F.M., "Did twice the job of one of your guys and he's half the size." Marshall looked ready to shout, Monahan held up a big mitt once more, "Look Ron, seriously, if the little guy hadn't been stand up on this, the whole place mighta smoked up. So come on, let's sneak." 

"Just remember, I'll be calling all of ya within a day or two." shutting the door behind him, he stopped and leaned back in, "And Kane, you watch where ya go stickin yer beezer cuz it just might get chopped off." 

Kane smiled slightly again. "Wise advice, Detective, that I am sure will prove useful. Good evening." 

After they left, F.M. turned to Karen. "Nice water show, there. You rained, and he collapsed like wet cardboard." 

Karen dabbed at here eyes with her sleeve. "Well, it wasn't all fake. Gotta admit, I do feel better." 

"So, why don't we drop by your place, Miss Smith, so you can get tidied up before we go to Munroe's." 

"Sounds fine to me Mr. Buck, but please, call me Karen. All this Ms and Miss stuff is too high hat fer friends. And between friends, I ain't the only one needin some changing. Yer half soaked." she turned to Elias. "Are you coming too Mr. Kane? Or can I call you Elias?" 

"Elias would be fine Ms. Sm... Karen. I suggest that we all leave quickly before our esteemed detective has had enough time to find a hole in our story. I have met Monahan before and though he is brash and loud, he is also sharp as a tack. By the way F.M., what do your initials really stand for?" 

"Faulty Memory," he said with a straight face. 

Kane missed only a beat, then broke out in a loud good-natured laugh, something which after he had done it made him wish that he spent more time laughing. "Good enough, then. A little mystery is good for the soul. "Do you have a car here? If not we can all take mine to Mr. Munroe's office." 

"I've got a beaut in the basement, rarin' to go. Karen, why don't you give Elias Munroe's address, so he can meet us there." F.M. had phrased it so that Karen would feel obliged to ride with him. Part of it was his highly developed sense of chivalry; he'd known Kane two minutes, and though he seemed like a straight shooter, he wasn't about to leave a girl unattended in his presence. Plus, he wouldn't mind driving a pretty skirt through the streets of San Francisco. "Meanwhile, I'll just step into the back room and put on a dry shirt and pants." 

Kane held out the business card that Stoner had given him before he left the Empire Club. "No need for the address. Mr. Stoner provided it to me when I met with him. So I will meet the two of you there in a few minutes, then." Kane gave a nod of his head towards the two and then headed out the building and down the block towards where he had parked his convertible, dodging a reporter or two on the way. 
 
 

Half an hour later, Monahan walked down the street to go look one more time at the wreck where he'd left Corcoran. He'd gone upstairs to go through what was left in Lee Hoffman's office one last time, they'd have to get somebody over to get that safe open tomorrow, after finishing up with Kane and the others. He smiled at being able to get a last good dig in at Kane before leaving. And that poor dame, though she was a real looker and all, it was a shame about her... purse. Monahan stopped in his tracks. The dame claimed she'd gone back to get her purse and left just as the fire started. But they found the purse all burnt on the floor. And he'd just let them all go... 

He tore off his hat and threw it to the ground, swearing loudly at being taken by a sob story. He was always a sucker for a lady. But he wouldn't be a second time.
 
 
 

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