***From the personal journal of Daedalus, Nosferatu Primogen of San Fransisco***

A mystery is never a straight path. The clue are there, hidden between paths of deception and misdirection, but even when found, they never line up to form the answer. They must be pieced together like a jigsaw puzzle with a picture that you don't know in advance, one with no corners or edges you can use to guide yourself.

Take three seperate events that occured in San Fransisco on the same night. On the surface, little would seem to link them.

***

In a newspaper office, Caitlin Byrne was working the late shift. For the last few days, she'd been concerned about her sort-of lover, and not- coincidentally her boss, one Julian Luna. Also the Cainite Prince of the city's Vampire population, but Miss Byrne wouldn't know about that, any more than she would know about the Nosferatu I've placed in her office, partly at Julian's request to guard Caitlin, but just as much to ensure that she doesn't do anything to break the Masquerade.

Being the career-minded woman that she is, Caitlin took her mind off her personal troubles via her work. And on this night, a report came across her desk concerning an event that had occured a night or so before at the Haven. A ram-raid followed by gunfire, fighting, and...what? Eyewitnesses report some very strange goings on. A huge bestial figure that appeared from nowhere, and disappeared just as quickly. A mutilated corpse leaping about the place with a glowing sword of some kind. And killings made, not by bullets, but by inhuman claws.

And what did Caitlin do? You'd be forgiven for imagining her rushing to the nearest phone, desperately trying to find out if her Julian had been hurt. Or maybe her professional curiosity got the better of her, and she'd start making her way to the Haven to investigate herself?

But instead, she swept the report into the bin below her desk and picked up a report on traffic congestion.

Strange behaviour, isn't it?

***

At the same time, about half a mile away, a young Brujah named Sasha, who also happens to be Prince Luna's great-great granddaughter as mortals would reckon, was walking through an alley towards where she'd parked her bike. Sasha happens to be in the running for the recently-vacated position of Brujah Primogen, a most suprising candidate. Unlikely too - she may be family of Julian Luna, but she wasn't even a year undead, and a lot of Brujah resented her audacity. Like the group that approached her tonight.

"Well, well." one sneered. "If it isn't the little bitch-princess."

Sasha sighed impatiently. "Let me guess. You're here to 'persuade' me to drop out of the running."

"You could put it like that. I'd prefer to think of it as kicking the crap out of you and watching you go crying back to big bad Uncle Luna."

Sasha laughed. "Nice imagery. Walk away now, and I won't bother chasing you."

The Brujah made some choice comments which I won't repeat here, and swooped on the neonate. It took Sasha all of thirty seconds to disembowel the other Brujah in an obscene display of sheer strength, after which she got on her motorcycle and calmly rode away, leaving the Nosferatu agent who was spying on the scene to clear up what would otherwise have been a Masquerade breach.

Think about it for a moment. A fledgling of mere months easily butcher a group of older Vampires, some of whom were centuries her superior.

Even stranger, yes?

***

And then, the Tremere. No eyewitnesses reported this one. An associate of mine who went by the name of Augustus was the one to find the Tremere's hideaway, though he was careless enough to let the Tremere present, one Terrance Avid, discover his presence. Mr Avid was rather careless himself, though, in not turning off the tape recorder Augustus had hidden on his person. I used to joke about Augustus' odd habit, but it did allow me to listen to the rather odd occurence of Mr Avid's demise. The transcript of this event is noted here. For the reader's information, the name Tenor refers to Avid's associate and junior, Miss Alisha Tenor.

+++Transcript begins+++

Avid: Filthy Sewer Rat. I hate them. Why must they always poke those hideous noses into my business. And where the hell's Tenor? How long can it take to pick up a meal?

++Impatient footsteps for roughly 45 seconds. A door, probably in another room, slams open hard.++

Avid: Huh? Tenor, is that you?

++Footsteps, followed by a crashing sound.++

Avid: What the...? What...?

Voice: Not my style.

Avid: What do you gurgling sound

Voice: The place needs some decoration. You will do.

++High-pitched screams, followed by crashes and ripping sounds. The screams fade into whimpers, then die out. There are some more crashes and some scraping sounds, then a tearing and odd rubbing sound. Then there is a short rapping sound, like a knock on a door or wall.++

Voice: Enjoy the scene, Kain. Your part in this play is almost done.

++Heavy footsteps, then silence++

+++Transcript ends+++

When the missing Augustus was tracked, I went with Cash to investigate. The scene was one of utter carnage and destruction, wreckage and gore. Augustus' body had been ignored, but Avid's was completely torn apart, only his head recognisable. Written on the wall in blood was the following message:

THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL WHO HAD A LITTLE CURL RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF HER FOREHEAD AND WHEN SHE WAS GOOD SHE WAS VERY VERY GOOD BUT WHEN SHE WAS BAD SHE WAS DEATH

***

Three seperate events. One odd, one impossible, and one just plain macabre. And what is the link, you ask? I'll give you a clue. It starts with an H.