The Halloran rooming house is still smoking when Investigator Edda Voss arrives at dawn. Eight survivors sit on the curb under scratchy blankets, faces black with soot. The landlord's ledger lists nine tenants, nine rent stubs, nine keys collected every New Year. Edda counts the survivors twice. Eight. So where is the ninth tenant, and which clue does she chase first?

Edda walks the line of survivors instead. Eight blankets, eight pairs of red eyes. She asks each one the same simple question: who lived in room 9? Every single person goes quiet. One woman starts to cry. A man stares at his shoes. Nobody answers.

A thin young man on the end stands up. 'They won't tell you,' he says, 'but I will. I only moved in last month.' He glances at the others, who glare at him. 'Room 9 was empty when I came. But the rent kept getting paid.'

Edda follows the tip and checks the bank. Room 9's rent came from one standing payment, set up eleven years ago by the eight tenants together, split eight ways. She gathers them on the curb. 'You've paid for an empty room for eleven years. Tell me who's really in it.' One by one, they start to talk.