‘Mr. Pretty, I want to hire you to find Andy Jones.’ ‘But he’s dead and buried.’ ‘I think not. Your fee for this job will be the return of...Laura Lee Jones. Don’t worry, we will keep her in good health, although she may not be very comfortable. The sooner you find the elusive Mr. Jones the sooner your lady will be released.’ ‘How do I contact you when I find Lazarus, I mean the dead Andy Jones?’ ‘You will call this number.’ He recited a number that I wrote in my little Private Detective’s note. Something spicy-sweet tickled my nostrils, sending every cell of my body into instant alert. The scent was distant and elusive, nothing manufactured by men, breed, or any of the collective sciences. It was dusky warm, like cinnamon and vanilla, but to call it that only captured the smallest fraction of its mystique. The scent was something exquisite and singular. All I knew was the scent of that perfume carried towards me on the light breeze fabricated by the ventilators and the realization. More

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