The hieroglyphs of a city can tell a strange and sordid tale of impassioned lovers, wicked children at play, unrequited love and the doomsayers noble intentions - all set to end one way or another, in the evening rap sheets or as descriptions at the county morgue but there's nothing more prominent in this city than the blood stained chalk outlines that cry out from the concrete slabs below.

The frozen screams of lives lost to violence, the heart rending pain that escapes loved ones lips and the lookey- loos circling the scene for their next gossip session - the vultures.

Just when you thought this city couldn't get any meaner - you're tossed the rotten fortune of more evil than you could ever dream. No one wants a job like this - no one. Jobs like this are either thrown into your lap or handpicked and given to you by destiny herself. This had to be a bit of both.

This city has a million stories but we begin here - looking through the vision of one perfect eye.

My partner and I know this city, we were born here and will probably die here - but as luck would have it, we raised ourselves up out of the poverty that surrounded us, to become better people than those we'd known growing up. Who knew the stench of the crime that enveloped Chicago would take us elsewhere; Far off elsewhere to places we'd only dared dreaming of?

It was 10:30 when she walked in. Summer in the city singed the souls that traveled the sidewalks and streets but she managed to remain in-tact with not a drop of sweat on her. Something of a marvel if you ask me...

"No one's asking ya....continue."

"I'm just trying to give them a feel for the situation."

"They feel ya enough...the opening was to die for... besides, shady characters always do their dealing at night, now come with the rest of the story, wonder boy."

"You have no idea."

Countess was her name and that's all she wanted to be called. She was wearing an eye patch over her left eye and black satin suit, definitely not of the workforce. She was pristine and clean and about her business.

"Are you Sam Stone?" she said lisping her S's and a lilt in her voice like she's speaking in cursive, due to her accent. Something like a snake would do if they could talk.

"Now if I had said that, you would have said I was judging her a little harshly!"

"...and you would have been - now will you let me get into this?"

"I need Sam Stone. Are you he?" (with major emphasis on the word "he" )

"No ma'am but she'll be right with you."

Sam was on the phone with a customer that wasn't too pleased with our work. Mainly because his worst fears had been realized and his wife has been playing "footsie" with his business partner.

"I only report the truth and you have pictures of what went down. There's nothing more than I can do. (pause) I'm sure but if that isn't your wife then that's one ugly man in a dress...(pause) same to you!" (slams phone down with great satisfaction)

"Temper, temper..."

"Yeah yeah...what do we have here?" Sam stands back and looks the woman over while walking a circle around her. Marveling at how overdressed she was for the summer heat.

"Surely this clerk cannot be the infamous Sam Stone - if you won't take my case just say so Mr. Stone, but I can make it worth your while..." Countess moves to put the back of her hand out to be kissed and Sam slaps it down.

"None of that...I don't kiss hands or ass. Is shake hands and kick ass - got me?"

"Excuse us Miss...Countess...I need to speak with my partner." Sam is lead away by Tony to a corner of the room where they discuss her manners and rage. After several hand gestures, sighs of frustration and an attempt to walk away from him - she situates herself accordingly to tend to the woman's needs.

"How can we help you...Miss?

"Countess. It is what I am and what I answer to!"

Sam shoots Tony a look and then returns her gaze back to the Countess.

"Countess, would you like a seat?"

"Only, if I can speak with Mr. Stone."

"There is no mister ma'am. Just me. I am Sam Stone."

"Oh....do you have credentials?"

"Why yes I do and here they are." (Sam removes her gun and uses it to point to the license that has been placed in a frame on the wall, then holsters her weapon.)

"I am not amused Ms. Stone."

"Sam."

"Ms. Stone, I assure you that I..."

"Sam. You want to be called Countess and I want to be called Sam."

"Ms. Stone! I am here on a matter of the utmost importance, the world is at stake!"

The world is always at stake...someone does something to somebody else and it the end of the world, you know?

"No I don't know - I only know my purpose for coming here, please we haven't any time to lose."

Alright, lay it on me, sister.

"Be honest, did you believe any of that stuff when she told us about it?"

"The only thing I believed is that we would be on a wild goose chase."

"So then...why did you agree to take the case?"

"To get the hell outta Chicago!"

Exasperated,Countess sits with her legs crossed at the center of the room just off from the one of two desks that fill the room. She removes a cigarette from her purse, lights it, takes in a deep dragthen exhales and begins to spin her tale...