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flat on my belly; reversing without being able to see where I’m going is almost impossible. It takes me minutes to manage it and, by the time I’m where I need to be, I’m covered in sweat. Whoever once said that horses sweat, men perspire and women glow clearly hasn’t met me.
    I stare down for a moment at the empty restroom and wonder if I’m crazy for doing this. I’m sandwiched between a layer of polystyrene and snaking pipes while looking down on a toilet. From this vantage point, it’s easy to spot where the cleaner has been lax and not bothered to reach round the edges of the bowl. I make a slight face and stiffen my resolve. Just like those weeks of built-up dirt, I’m not going to allow myself, my sanity or my freedom to be simply swept away. As ridiculous as this situation is, I need to find out where I stand with Tam. I push the tile back into its original position then begin my slow shuffle forward.
    I barely manage a few feet before I feel the dress snag on something. Damn it. This is another reason I can’t get away with looking pretty while attempting to work at the same time. I eventually untangle the material then tuck the rest of the fabric into my knickers to avoid it happening again. Bruce Willis didn’t have that problem.
    Although the straightest and most direct route towards Tam’s office is diagonally across the space, I’m forced to go in a different direction as the pipes are blocking my way. I can only hope that’s not the case once I get further along or this entire venture will be screwed. Inching forward in darkness, I stay as silent as possible. I have to strain to keep my weight balanced on the metal frames and not sag down onto the tiles. The pain of the exertion is attacking my core, as if I’m permanently holding myself in a plank position. At least I won’t have to worry about going to the gym today. It seems like an eternity before I hear the ping of the lift and realise I’ve reached the reception area.
    ‘Hi, doll-face,’ drawls a deep voice that I immediately recognise as Boris, one of the other investigators.
    His weak attempt at flirtation falls flat as Tansy, the receptionist, sighs. ‘Why are you late?’ She sounds bored to tears.
    ‘Were you worried about me?’
    The silence that greets his question pretty much provides an answer. I smirk and am about to continue quietly onwards when I freeze at his next question. His tone is overly casual, which makes it even worse.
    ‘Is Bo back yet?’
    ‘Not seen her.’ There’s an odd grating sound.
    ‘Has she phoned in?’
    The sound continues. I finally realise Tansy must be filing her nails. ‘Nah,’ she says. ‘What’s it to you?’
    Every muscle in my body tenses as I wait to hear his answer. I’d always pegged him as large and dumb, nothing more than an annoyance, but now my mind is racing at the thought that he might have something to do with all of this.
    ‘One of my contacts rang me on the way in asking about her. Says the pigs want to talk to her about something that went down this morning.’
    I’m disappointed; I’d been hoping for more. Life would be a hell of a lot easier if I could pin the blame for this on Boring Boris and move on. I suppose the confirmation that the police are definitely after me is useful though. I don’t wait to listen to more; instead I shuffle onwards, making sure I’m as quiet as death. Their voices were as clear as if they’d been standing next to me and the last thing I need is for them to realise there’s something crawling around above them.
    Fortunately the pipes twist right, allowing me to continue forward to Tam’s office unhindered. Arzo worries me. He’s a canny bastard. I’d swear he has traces of Kakos daemon blood running through his veins were it not for the fact that he’s been with Tam for more than two decades. No Kakos daemon could spend that long in a human’s company without giving into the temptation to eat their heart or drive them insane.