It had been a...difficult year. Between Shiwan Khan and every other malcontent, murderer, malefactor and black hat the city had been able to conjure, even his formidable will was due a break.

The new year didn't promise much better. German agents were infiltrating, so too were there Italian and Japanese plots afoot - and the Committee were getting bolder now that Prohibition was a distant memory. It would be a busy year in the shadows, to come.

Which meant, for once, impulsively, he had decided to do something for her. For the woman who had, throughout these turbulent few months, been a stalwart ally - and remarkable companion. Which meant securing them invitations to the most elegant of New Years Eve parties - not the richest of New York, but perhaps the best: tonight it was a party at the Prince George Ballroom.

It was said that some of the best would be performing tonight - Ella Fitzgerald would be singing tonight, they said. Even the Cobalt Club couldn't swing that...

He had, of course, secured them a private table overlooking the stage, which was where he sat now - wearing the best tuxedo he owned and, sensing her imminent arrival, working at the cork of some excellent champagne.