Panic flashes through me. It's too late to hide, and it's difficult to run as I'm quite literally backed into a corner. If only these dem pipes weren't here. My peripheral flickers the man's face and the narrow space to his left. Even if I run at lightning speed, he'd only need to reach out a hand to stop me.

"I'm curious," he says, shifting so that his wide-set shoulders consume the space between the buildings. "How long did you think you'd last?"

I swallow, debating whether I respond. I can't quite bring myself to do anything, not yet, not until I have a plan. The trouble is that I don't have many planning options to work with.

"I mean seriously," the man continues, "you're basically in a city of spies. The moment they discovered that Cryo died, they were sure to mobilize every citizen in Eula to look for you." He waits a beat. "Why'd you do it?"

For some reason, he seems in no hurry to take me into custody. That by itself gives me pause. He doesn't appear to be an EO, but certainly not a normal citizen. Perhaps he's a high-up business man, or worse yet, a politician. Regardless, he seems like someone willing to strike a deal. That would explain why he's striking up a conversation instead of questioning me under a heat lamp in a station. Perhaps he's even a person willing to take a bribe. The cash suddenly feels heavy in my pockets.

"How'd you spot me?" I ask at last.

"Most people don't walk around with squid ink in their hair."

So that's what that was. "Was it that noticeable?"

"Not to the eye, but the stench made me look twice when you bumped into me. And once a detective looks twice — a good detective that is — you can say goodbye to any chance of escaping punishment. Which brings me back to my first question: why'd you do it?"

I think for a moment. I'm not sure if he's fishing for some answer or asking out of mere curiosity.

The man sighs. "You know, it doesn't hurt to tell the truth every now and again."

"I don't know," I say at last.

"You don't know why you killed him?"

"I don't know if I did."

The man's eyebrows draw together. "You don't remember?"

A beat passes. Slowly I shake my head. What the helios, I don't have much to lose.

"What, were you drinking or something?" The man shrugs slightly. "You could get off for manslaughter."

"I don't remember," I say again.

"Well, what's your name?" When I don't respond, he stalks forward and grabs my wrist. In the dim light, he frowns, then grabs the other one. He tugs me away from the pipes, onto the sidewalk, where the lighting is almost blinding compared to the narrow alley. "Where's your ID?"

"What ID?"

The man pulls up the left sleeve of his suit jacket. A small band wraps around his wrist. He double taps it, and a screen lights up with the name "Montgomery Friederon, PI." Underneath it, there's a number, then more letters and numbers in a print too tiny to read. The light disappears after a few seconds.

I look down at my wrists. The red marks around them have almost faded into the light color of my skin.

"You should have one," Montgomery says. "Everyone in the city has one."

"Maybe I lost it," I state.

"No way," Montgomery says with a chuckle of disbelief. "They're attached to everyone at birth. The only way to get them off is through surgical removal."

My eyes drift again to the red marks. I squint at the skin on my wrists. It seems normal enough, if a bit dry and rough. But the red marks, the pain I felt when I first woke up... could that have been from a surgery? Though I know what a surgery is, I oddly have no gauge for the healing time or process. Further complicating matters is that the marks are on both wrists, not just my left one.

Montgomery purses his lips. "I must say, this does complicate things. It's kind of hard to turn you over to the authorities when I don't know who you are."

"Really?" I murmur.

"I mean, they'll probably be able to find out who you are. They have far more personnel at their disposal and will drop as many resources they need in order to discover your identity. After all, you killed one of the top EOs."

"What's an EO?"

Montgomery blinks at me, surprised. "Are you serious?" When I don't react, he says, "It means Eula Officers. They're law enforcement, dealing with everything from traffic jams to the highest crimes."

"And this Officer Rye-oh?"

"Officer Cryo was one of the top agents. Trust me, you'll be locked up for a long time once they get a hold of you." Montgomery pauses. "But you're not certain you did it?"

"No."

"Interesting." A smile inches onto his face. "Then again, you could be lying."

"Of course."

"Even more interesting that you acknowledge it." He considers me for a moment. "What to do with you? What to do?"

Montgomery doesn't seem like the type to take bribes. But another part of me wonders if it will be the trick that convinces him to not take me into custody. I can practically feel the money stuffing my pockets. It will only be confiscated if he turns me in.

I slip my hand in my pocket, pulling out a wad of cash. "If I give you this, can you forget you ever saw me?"

"And where did you get all of that? Let me guess, you don't know?"

"It was in a black duffle bag in the room I woke up in."

Montgomery's easy demeanor melts away. It's a subtle shift. His stance remains the same, all too still to be natural. A stiffness enters his smile, like he's forcing it to remain on his face.

"A black duffle bag, you say." Montgomery shifts his weight between his feet. "How much cash would you say was in there?"

I shrug. "I'd say it was pretty stuffed."

"What else was in this room?"

"Bed, drawers, mirror, window, dead man. Not much."

"And you say you 'found' the cash in a black duffle bag? You didn't know it would be there?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Was there anything on the duffle bag? A tag? A logo? A marking?"

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal over a duffle bag," I say. "Are they particularly rare?" Is this yet another thing I've forgotten?

"Not exactly..." Montgomery groans. "I'm trying to get the full picture here."

"Why don't you just go to the room and see it for yourself?"

Montgomery thinks for a beat. "You know, I might just do that." His gaze pauses on me, brow furrowed. "But what am I going to do with you?" I hold out the cash in his direction. "No, no, I don't take bribes. Then again, I'm not inclined to turn an innocent person over to the EOs. Not to say that I think you're innocent." He paces a few steps to the side, a few back, looking me straight in the eye. "Why haven't you tried to run away?"

"From the crime scene?"

"From here." He motions to the street stretching in either direction. He's right; I'm no longer cornered. I could make a break for it. Then again, how far would I get before he caught up to me? Before someone else discovered me?

I can only shrug in response. Montgomery studies me a moment longer.

"You don't strike me as the criminal type. As a general rule, I try not to give my instincts too much input, but they're worth considering every now and again. How about this: you come with me to the crime scene, I'll look around, and then we'll figure out what to do from there."

"Sounds like a gamble to go investigating with an alleged murderer," I state.

"It's not like you have any weapons." Montgomery grins. "You would've pulled one out by now if you did."

"Unless I'm waiting for the right moment."

"My metal and electronic wave scanner hasn't detected anything, either."

"Ah. Of course." I glance down at my leather clothes. "Someone might recognize me, though."

"I can find you a disguise," Montgomery says. "And for the record, I'm not exactly giving you a choice. I need more information and a way to watch you. Consider it an informal arrest."

I let out a small sigh. "Fine." Informal arrest is better than jail. And a new disguise beats walking around smelling like fish.