he always smelled bad enough to make a sewer rat's eyes water. I half expected the street-lights to start wilting.

"All right," said Suzie. "How did you know we'd be here, Eddie?"

"I'm a god," said Razor Eddie, in his quiet ghostly voice. "I always know what I need to know. Which is how I know exactly where your secretary is being held, John."

I regarded him thoughtfully. Eddie and I were friends, sort of, but given the kind of pressure Walker was capable of bringing to bear… Eddie nodded slightly, following my thoughts.

"Cautious as ever, John, and quite right, too. But I'm here to help."

"Why?" I said bluntly.

"Because Walker was foolish enough to try and order me to do his dirty work for him. Like I give a damn what the Authorities want. I go where I will, and do what I must, and no-one gets to stand in my way. No-one tells me what to do. So, your secretary isn't being held inside the Necropolis building, but rather in their private graveyard. Which is so big they keep it in a private dimension that they sub-let."

"Who from?" said Suzie.

"Best not to ask," said Razor Eddie.

I nodded. It made sense. I'd heard that the Necropolis's extensive private graveyard was kept in a pocket dimension, for security reasons, protected by really heavy-duty magics. Getting in wouldn't be easy.

"You can't just crash into the Necropolis and intimidate the staff into giving you access," said Eddie.

"Want to bet?" said Suzie.

"They know you're here," Eddie said patiently. "And they're already on the phone to Walker, screaming for reinforcements. By the time you've smashed your way through that building's defences, you'll be hip deep in Walker's people. And your only real hope for rescuing Cathy is a surprise attack. Fortunately, I can offer an alternative way in."

His right hand, thin and grey, came out of his pocket, holding a pearl-handled straight razor. He flipped the blade open, and the steel shone supernaturally bright. I could feel Suzie tensing beside me, but she had enough sense not to go for any of her weapons. Eddie flashed her a meaningless smile, turned away, and cut savagely at the empty air. The whole night seemed to shudder as the air split apart, widening and opening up like a wound in the world. And through the opening Razor Eddie had made, I could see another world, another dimension. It was a darker night than ours, and bitter cold air rushed out into our world. I shuddered, and so did Suzie, but I don't think it was from the cold. Razor Eddie, unaffected, stared calmly through the gap he'd made.

"I didn't know you could do that," I said.

"I went back to the Street of the Gods," said Eddie, putting away his razor. "Got an upgrade. Did you know, John, there's a new church there, worshipping your image. Unauthorised, I take it? Good. I took care of it for you. Knew you'd want me to. Follow me."

Poor bastards, I thought, as the Punk God of the Straight Razor stepped through the wide opening, and Suzie and I followed him through, into another world.

The terrible cold hit me like a fist and cut me like a knife, burning in my lungs as I struggled with the thin air. Suzie blew harshly on her cupped hands, flexing her fingers so they'd be free and ready if she had to kill someone in a hurry. Before us, the graveyard seemed to stretch away forever. Row upon row and rank upon rank of massed graves, for as far as the eye could see in any direction, from horizon to horizon. A world of nothing but graves. The Necropolis's private cemetery lay silently under an entirely different kind of night from the Nightside. It was darker, with an almost palpable gloom, apart from a glowing pearlescent ground mist that curled around our ankles and swirled slowly over the rows of tombstones. There was no moon in the jet-black sky, only vivid streaks of multi-coloured stars, bright and gaudy as a whore's jewels.

"We're not in the Nightside any more," said Eddie. "This is a whole different kind of place. Dark and dangerous and dead. I like it."

"You would," said Suzie. "Damn, but it's cold. I mean, serious cold. I don't think anything human could survive here for long."

"Cathy's here, somewhere," I said. "Whoever has her had better be taking really good care of her. Or I will make them scream before they die."

"Hard-core, John," said Suzie. "And not really