Enter Thornton

Today I pay another kind of bill. I always knew the moon would come back to haunt me. But I turned my back, damned fool that I am.

The Eigonvector Gang were up to no good on Saturday night. Seems some girl got hurt. It was her blood which stained the moon. If only I'd been quicker, sharper, and got to the gang. If only I was sober. Instead I sit here, still clutching my bottle of whiskey. Still clutching my regret.

Tonight I'll lie awake, trying to shut out the ghosts of my past and hide from the shadows of my future. That won't change anything though. I need to track down the Eigonvectors soon, and teach them the hardest lesson of all.

But I did get a lead on Thompson. I've tracked down the five personals, and one of them looks to be promising. One of the ads was left by some guy calling himself Thornton. The name rang a distant bell, but I couldn't be sure if it was an alarm or a reminder. I looked it up, checked him out. Seems Mr Thornton is a big cat, stalking the prairie with no fear of getting bitten. He runs various business syndicates, sits on more chairs than they have acronyms for, and has an empire of children and bastards which sink their claws into just about every country around. This guy is big time. He cries bingo, snap and go fish all at once.

So why is this man, powerful enough to sell the world, advertising himself in some sleasy personals? It doesn't add up. Maybe the guy is just lonely, but I'm not a big enough fool to buy that. This guy knows something, and he's communicating with Thompson to get it. I don't know how it fits together yet, but they're part of the same trouble.

Getting hold of this Thornton is proving hard work. Even his secretary's secretary won't respond to me. I'm going to have to come up with a better way to get close to him.

He wants personals? I'll give him personals. Ain't nothing in the whole damn town more personal than a call from The Twins. Then maybe we'll see what this is all about.