The rain in Washington D.C. doesn't wash anything away; it just turns the marble gray and the secrets into mud.

"Is the resolution high enough for you, Detective?" a voice rasped from the dark.

In a city of monuments, Detective Elias Thorne was a gargoyle. He spent his nights in a cramped office overlooking a neon-lit alley in Adams Morgan, watching the digital ghosts of the city flicker across his screen. The file he was hunting was labeled simply: .