She didn't flinch, but she looked like she wanted to. I can sound dangerous when I have to. She covered her lapse by grinding out her half-finished cigarette in my ash-tray, concentrating on doing the job properly so she wouldn't have to look at me for a while.

"Nothing," she said finally. "Not a damned thing. I'd never heard the name before, and the few of my people who recognised it... wouldn't talk to me about it. When I pressed them, they quit, just walked out on me. Walked away from more money than they'd ever made in their life before, rather than discuss the Nightside. They looked at me as though I was ... sick, just for wanting to discuss it."

"I'm not surprised." My voice was calm again, though still serious, and she looked at me again. I chose my words carefully. "The Nightside is the secret, hidden, dark heart of the city. London's evil twin. It's where the really wild things are. If your daughter's found her way there, she's in real trouble."

"That's why I've come to you," said Joanna. "I understand you operate in the Nightside."

"No. Not for a long time. I ran away, and I vowed I'd never go back. It's a bad place."

She smiled, back on familiar ground again. "I'm

prepared to be very generous, Mr. Taylor. How much do you want?"

I considered the matter. How much, to go back into the Nightside? How much is your soul worth? Your sanity? Your self-respect? But work had been hard to come by for some time now, and I needed the money. There were bad people in this part of London too, and I owed some of them a lot more than was healthy. I considered the matter. Shouldn't be that difficult, finding a teenage runaway. A quick in-and-out job. Probably in and gone before anyone even knew I was there. If I was lucky. I looked at Joanna Barrett and doubled what I had been going to ask her.

"I charge a grand a day, plus expenses."

"That's a lot of money," she said, automatically.