It was dimly lit in the aged pub, only three customers and the landlord were there, none of them acknowledging the presences of any of the others, as they quietly sipped their drinks. Heaving a great sigh one of the men got to his feet, picked up a brandy glass and knocked back the amber liquid.

"Night Bert." He muttered, swiftly turning from the bar and stalking out of the pub and into the cool spring air, it was cold enough to make the hairs on the back of his unprotected neck stand up, so he yanked the collar of his coat up, protecting himself from the gentle breeze, and set off down the road, shoulders hunched.

It was quiet as he walked down the streets, the only light came from the sickening orange glow of street lamps or the dim white light from behind closed curtains, the silence was broken by only the sound of his footsteps as hey crunched against the dirty pavement. He sighed once again, it was too late to expect a cab that did not smell of vomit, and he buses were not doing their rounds at this time. He stopped at a pair of large iron gates, the Park, he grumbled as he walked through the gates, and down the pavement, it was dark, very dark, the looming trees allowing no light at all to penetrate through to the pavement, but his eyes adjusted quickly.

The three saved in a slight breeze, and he turned his eyes towards the thick darkness that danced between the trees, and looked away, then with a slight snapping noise he turned back towards the darkness, he could hear twigs snapping, and a rustling.

And there she appeared, like an angel.

"Help?" She asked, her voice so soft it was surprising, and yet there was a desperate tone to it, He stepped towards her, just in time to see her eyes close and she fell to the floor.

He shoved his way through the undergrowth, until he reached her, he was sure her hair was fanned out, but the colour did not stand out against the dark ground, she was wearing a sturdy pair of jeans and a top that was ripped and torn in a number of places, even looking burnt in others, and he could feel a slight dampness as he lifted her into his arms, he did not know if it was blood...


"Morning, I am Dr. Gibsen, I have been assigned to the chase of our Jane Doe, and I've just had her test results back, it appears she isn't suffering from any illness' or injuries," Dr Gibsen explained to him. "As I am aware you found her in the park in the early hours of the morning, Mr...?"

"Matthew Dyers, and yes, I was on my way home and I saw her, she said help and then passed out," Matthew replied, the Doctor looked happy enough with this explanation.

"Good job really, a pretty young woman like her..." The Doctor said grimly, and Matthew nodded in understanding.

"Do you know how old she is yet? Or managed to contact any of her family members?" Matthew asked.

"Right now we are estimating she is around eighteen, but as for her family, no such luck as of yet, we've made a call to Missing Peoples, but they say that so far no one fitting her description has been reported missing," Dr Gibsen explained. "This means that we'll just have to wait until she wakes up and tells us more."

Matthew nodded; he knew these things could be difficult from experience.

He'd gone home for lunch when he received a phone call.

"Mr Dyer, it's Scared Heart Hospital, Dr Gibsen told me that you may want to come to the hospital," The woman on the other side of the line said quickly.

Matthew didn't hesitate, but made his way straight to the hospital.

"Mr Dyer, our Jane Doe is for now going to remain so, you see the girl has no memory of herself. She's forgotten who she is."


Matthew walked into the hospital room and looked at the woman sitting up on the bed, she was indeed beautiful in a sort of traditional way, obvious but understated.

"Hello." She said warmly, a smile on her face that made him think she remembered him. "Thank you for coming, it's nice to see a familiar face."

"We only met last night," Matthew reminded her gruffly - this unknown girl reminded him of someone, someone he'd rather forget.

"Yes, but yours is the only face I can actually remember for myself," The girl replied. "I go by Jane these days, it's a bit plain, but a name none the less."

"I'm Matthew, Matthew Dyer," Matthew said, holding his hand out to her, she took it with a bright smile.

"Nice to meet you Matthew," Jane replied cheerfully.

"Yeah you too Jane."


"Please?" Jane asked in almost a whiney voice. "I hate hospitals, and social services don't know what to do with me, please, just till I get settled enough to live on my own?"

"You can't live with me Jane; I might be a mass murderer for all you know," Matthew argued, not sure how this young woman had gotten it into her head that going back with him was even an option.

Jane sighed, as she ran a hand through her mass of brown curls.

"Fine." She said reluctantly, looking like a sad puppy.

Matthew grumbled.

"Fine, I've got a spare room above the office."

"Thanks Matt," Jane said thankfully, now that she had finished attempting to win him over, she was back to her normal self. Calm and collected.


"So Private Eye Dyer, this is your work place?" Jane asked looking around, it looked like the place had been ransacked, it was covered in papers and - well, everything.

"Yeah." Matthew sighed. "Through the door to your left is the stairs, leads to the flat, it's easy enough to find the bedroom. I'll be in my office, so you're safe here."

"I know," Jane replied smiling. She walked up the stairs and disappeared from sight, as Matthew flopped down onto the sofa, reaching for a bottle of whiskey, and pouring a large amount into a glass, when Jane reappeared.

"Matt... I don't have any clothes."