Derek Adams is a Glasgow PI with plenty of time on his hands.
Until the Bogart Case walks in.
A priceless family heirloom has been stolen and everyone in town is looking for it. The stars are right once more, and an ancient evil has been awakened from its dreaming sleep.
It was supposed to be an easy case, fast money. But pretty soon Derek is up to his armpits in bodies, femme fatales and tentacles.
The city’s dark side has him.
And it doesn’t want to let the Midnight Eye go!
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The tentacled head kept coming, It pushed the final piece of its bulk through, pulling the torso and legs through behind it, and lay on the altar, head pulsing in time with the chanting.
The hole in space stayed open above it, a black chasm through which a chill wind whistled, bringing a thin coating of frost to the altar. The flute was still there, closer now, and a deep, bass drumming had joined it, a primitive throbbing that jerked my nerves and made me want to throw off my clothes and dance.
On the altar two of the tentacles swayed above the bulbous head, then brought themselves down onto the amulet. As they touched it there was a burst of green light, and as they lifted it up towards the black hole in reality the chanting changed, becoming louder and more guttural.
The black hole began to grow, ripping its way open in the air with a tearing scream, and the green light oozed through to the other side, traveling against the flow of the wind. The reedy piping got louder, until I felt that my eardrums were going to burst, and that was when Dunlop made his move.
He moved past me like a bat out of hell, screaming at the top of his lungs, blue lancing flame shooting from the piece of wood in his hand. He was aiming straight for the thing on the altar, and it didn’t look like anything would stop him.
Then all hell broke loose…