“It’s not as effective as you would think,” Ajax said as he started to reload his pistol. “Even with ten perception, it’s bloody inaccurate. My practice shots at the precinct shooting range were laughable.”

I watched him as he carefully poured powder into the gun. My crushed shoulder throbbed and my ribs hurt with every breath, but there was something soothing about listening to him chatter.

“I need to get something more modern than this relic,” he continued, waving the flintlock. “At the very least I should be able to find something with a longer barrel. Better yet, something that doesn't take forever to reload.”

“I see you got my message then,” I said as I struggled to stand. Ajax pulled me up by my good arm.

“Yeah, you could have waited for me, you know,” he said.

I shrugged and immediately regretted it. Wincing, I rubbed my shoulder gingerly.

“You know you are covered in blood, right?” Ajax asked, looking me up and down.

“Yeah, I kind of just got used to it. Trying to stay clean proved useless,” I answered nonchalantly.

“That’s fucked up,” Ajax commented.

I almost shrugged again, but stopped myself in time. “Anyway, thanks for the help. I don’t think I would have won that last one.”

A nearby clank of metal interrupted our conversation.. I spun around, sword raised, and almost collapsed as my various injuries flared. Ajax quickly grabbed the lantern and held it up.

The light revealed a thin man crouching over something in the corner. When he noticed that his cover was blown, he quickly pulled out his curved sword. Instead of charging, though, he slammed the blade down on the lock to the sewer entrance.

“Drop it!” I shouted as I raised my sword threateningly. My muscles ached from the strain, but I forced myself forward. The man hacked at the lock with increased fervor. He finally stopped when Ajax cocked his pistol with a Hollywood-worthy ‘click’.

“Drop it,” I said again and this time he complied. As the man stood up straight, I realized who I had forgotten about during my fight with Brute.

“It’s the boss,” I told Ajax. “Let’s tie him up and get some answers.”

“I can do you one better,” Ajax said, pulling a pair of old-school manacles from his bag.

As Ajax cuffed him, I examined the sewer entrance. A large key was jammed in the big lock, but was unable to fit in all the way. The boss must have been trying to force it when we heard him. Three shiny gouges shone where the sword had bitten deep into the iron.

Curious, I picked up the curved blade. Thinner than the big scimitars you see in movies, the edge was razor sharp. I checked the sword’s blade and was amazed not to find even a single mark on it from the mistreatment. I was definitely keeping this sword.

“Why go for the sewer?” Ajax asked. The boss stubbornly said nothing.

“I bet he thought the normal entrances were covered,” I replied absently. “In a normal police raid they probably would be. Come on, let’s go to the office.”

We hauled the boss over to the flimsy office. Well, Ajax did the hauling. I felt like crap and probably needed medical attention.

When we got to the office I directed the boss to the guest chair and sat on the desk. Towering over the manacled man with a bare sword on my lap, I figured I would get a pretty big bonus from my Ethos skill. As I started the interrogation, Ajax started digging through the papers on the desk.

“So, let’s try this again. I’m Inquisitor George Silver, and I would like to ask you a few questions about your affiliate Mr. Slinger,” I said, my tone acerbic.

At this the boss looked up sharply. “You’re supposed to be dead,” he said accusingly, shocked out of his silence. His hoarse voice strained and had lost its crisp refinement from earlier today.

“I am pleased to announce that reports of my death were greatly exaggerated,” I said with grim humor. “Now, why did you say Slinger was no longer part of your organization? What was he up to when he got killed?”

“I dunno,” he said.

I tapped the curved sword lightly with one hand as my expression darkened.

“He left the gang,” the boss went on in a rush. “About a week ago. He was bragging about a sure thing at the race track. Normal gambler addict crap. Thing is, he actually won. Got enough to pay off his debts. Left the gang the next day.”

“And you let him go, just like that?” I asked doubtfully. I was hardly an expert on organized crime, but I didn’t think leaving was usually that simple.

The boss shifted uncomfortably. “I sent a few boys by his place to convince him to stay. Remind him of what the Greys had done for him. Slinger beat the hell out of them. Crippled or maimed each one. He told them that next time he wouldn’t be so gentle.”

“So you gave up?” I asked.

The boss scowled. “A good business man knows when to cut his losses.”

“So you have no idea what Slinger was up to when he died? What did he do with his new wealth, more gambling?”

“Nah,” the boss shook his head. “Idiot took up treasure hunting. Bought a bunch of gear to set up a basecamp over the river.”

“Treasure hunting?” I asked.

“Sure, there are always fools willing to throw their lives away in pursuit of fanciful stories. They go into Old Town searching for riches that were left behind as people fled. Most of them only find death by undead abomination, but once in a while they find something. A stash of jewelry, a warehouse of spices, church artifacts, whatever.”

“And Slinger?” I prompted.

“Must have spent a fortune in wards, silver, and blessings. He actually stayed over there across the river. At night,” He emphasized this as if it was the worst idea in history. “I don’t know what he expected to find, but honestly I am amazed the Decoction Killer managed to get him before some night terror.”

“Where’s this basecamp?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. I raised an eyebrow, but he just said, “No way I was going to send anyone across the river to follow him. He was more than welcome to the zombies for all I care. My boys saw him cross the Westminster Bridge and head northeast, that’s all I know.”

I sat back on the desk. It didn't really seem like there was much more I could get out of the man. Unfortunately, it didn’t really tell me much about the Decoction killer. Maybe he had killed Slinger because of something he found across the river? Exploring the basecamp seemed like the only next step we had.

“Seems like we are going to have to visit zombie town,” I said, looking at Ajax.

He looked up from a ledger. “Sure, but first we should deal with all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the warehouse.

“Right, what do we do about a warehouse full of dead gang members and illicit goods again?” I asked, nonplussed.

“We do what any upstanding citizen would do,” he replied with a grin. “We call the police.”