Rain pounded the streets like machine gun fire; thunder rippling off the skyscrapers like a pinball between the posts. How fitting that the weather in this 'burg couldn't even shape up for my last day on Mobius.

Because that's what it was. We'd drawn straws, and with my luck, I came up short.

So here I was, on the corner of Death Avenue and Pain Street, waiting until midnight. Shadow had always been a night owl, too, so we'd assumed he wouldn't be there. Not that it would matter in the end.

But while I was waiting, there wasn't a whole lot of point in not enjoying my life before it was forcibly taken out of commission.

So, with the thought that Amy would be paying, I found myself in one of the more upscale bars in town, the sort where the pool tables aren't ripped, so you can lose your money to a con in style.

But in any case, the bar didn't have any of the usual tough guys, just your weasely smartasses. Which was fine. Fists work wonders on sniveling cretins.

I paid for my usual double scotch, and even treated myself to a steak, as well.

While I was knocking back my sample of the poison that kills slowly, I noticed the rather attractive fox checking me out. She didn't look dirty or nothing, just a very nice-looking broad, you know. And while Tails would be all over her by now, I was somewhat more reserved just to wink at her.

Which was, of course, when I noticed the rabbit behind me.

The guy was the type that has never lost a fight mainly because he'd never picked a real one. As it was, he was content to pretend like he was really something. He had an impeccably crafted hairdo, plus one of the more flattering suits that say, "I'm a real man, and you're not".

"I don't like you looking at my girl," said Big Chief Wannabe.

I flipped open my Zippo, lighting yet another tap end. "That's a pity, 'cause I am," I said, laconically breathing a lungful of smoke into the guy's face.

The guy's smile gave off the aura that this weekend tough guy honestly thought he was winning the stare down. "Yeah, that's right, loser, you just back off, just don't even look back, man –"

That was, of course, before I lifted him up by his lapels with one hand while drinking my shot with the other.

As testified by the darkening stain on the guy's pants, I did indeed have the upper hand.

"Tell you what, pal. I'll look as long as I want, and you go wash the piss out of your Armani slacks. Capeesh?"

As I dropped him, the guy scrambled off to the restroom.

I finished my drink and my steak and paid. The funny thing for me was that the fight had been started over a girl who hadn't particularly interested me. Whatever, I had more important things to think about. Like funeral arrangements.

------------------

Shadow's block is a makeup of ritzy apartments where all the residents have their dirty laundry deep down, like a tower to the heavens that was made of nothing but slime. Here lived those who had gotten ahead by putting others behind – often way behind. Could have sworn I saw Cream up in one of the nicer suites (She had, after all, hired me to bump off her old lady, a tale for another day). Of course, it was here that Shadow, one of the higher-paid enforcers of the mob, abided.

One dizzying climb and one window with the catch broken later, I was in. I had successfully gained entrance to my own personal Waterloo.

Shadow's mahogany desk stood in the corner of the ornate room, bearing, simply enough, a computer and a file cabinet.

I took a peek in the filing cabinet, rifling anything about anything I could find.

When I saw it. Cinos Deal. If that wasn't a brazen invitation, I don't know what was.

I pocketed the entire file. For security, I also took all the floppy disks from the computer area. That out of the way, I decided I might take a look around. Perhaps there was a set of silver-and-pearl cufflinks or some designer sunglasses with my name on it. Hey, a guy's gotta make a living, and theft is not below Knuckles, P.I. Pays the bills, you might say. Like Bill, my parole officer.

When I walked past the bedroom to notice one of the more unnerving experiences of my career.

The lights weren't on, but the light from the many scented crimson candles compensated enough. The white silk sheets of the bed were littered with rose petals. Some schmaltzy, lovey-dovey song was playing in the background.

And there, on the bed, were Shadow and my current employer, cute pink quills and all.

An old joke goes, "Question: How do hedgehogs mate? Answer: Very carefully." Laughter machine into overdrive. If "carefully" referred to casually, inactively, or unimpassioned, then one could assume that Amy Rose and the Ultimate Life-Form were in fact performing "dangerously".

Verrrrrry "dangerously".

And interesting though it was to watch the two go at it, it did raise the issue of why my employer in this case was sleeping with the guy determined to stop me solving the aforementioned case.

Oh, yeah, and the fact that the dude I was trying to avoid was indeed home.

So it looked like I would be the only guy in this apartment proceeding "very carefully".

As quietly as a mouse, I brought my .44 out of my coat and silently walked past the room back into Shadow's office. I wanted to get as much as I could before I amscrayed.

There were, of course, noticeable amounts of mail and other trash on his desk. I realized I would have to move quickly when I noticed the safe.

It was a regular, six-combination lock, black and silver. No trouble to crack.

I reached into my pocket to get out the gloves I had brought. I felt a soft jingle against my fingers. I had brought the key I had found in the envelope by mistake.

A little while later, the safe lay open in front of me. I found myself looking at rows of stuff, namely some fancy jewelry, a couple Rolexes, and some ominous white powder (Shadow wasn't dumb enough to use it, but who wouldn't say no to the money that pushing it would bring).

When, once again, I felt the cold circle of metal in the back of my neck as the barrel of Shadow's gun was leveled at me.

"Knucklehead. I had a feeling you weren't a shut case just yet. You know, you're the kind of guy who makes the job –"

I would have liked to chat. Really, I would have. Once you get to know me, I'm pretty sentimental. But, I was short on time, so I simply pistol-whipped Shadow without even looking.

After the Ultimate Whatever was out, I helped myself to the Rolexes and left the way I came.

--------------

As I walked the desolate streets of the city, the rain still pattering against the sidewalk, I recapped my situation. Within four days of being on the case, I'd developed a business partner, been held up in an alley, received a package containing a note, a code card and a key, been beaten within an inch of my life, and now looted the home of the most dangerous man in town.

The case to end all cases, indeed.