“Could you help me out, Mr. Keen? It appears my friends have forgotten my disabilities…”

Ms. Grant was left sitting in her chair, smiling at the detective in a partially seductive way.

Mr. Keen sighed, and helped the blind lady up and out the door into the hands of her companions, trying to ignore her comments about how firm his forearms were.

As he shut the door behind them, Kane Keen couldn’t help but wish he had a bottle of whisky stashed in his desk.

He’d never met such normal ladies (excluding their missing bodily appendages, that is) with such a strange request. And strangest of all was this purple smoke that appeared to have stolen their senses!

Kane had only once heard of such a dreadful thing happening in the dark city in which he lived. The only scientist who had discovered the origin of the smoke was found dead in his lab, killed by inhaling too much of the stuff before he could decipher his notes to anyone else.

Then Detective Keen gasped. He could find the notes!