John Taylor is the name. I work the Nightside. Only in that dark heart of London where it's always three A.M. where human and inhuman can feed their darkest desires do I feel at home. Probably because I was born there.<br><br><br> <br>What I do is find things—people objects—and in this case the truth about the origins of the Nightside.<br><br><br> <br>That's what Lady Luck has hired me to investigate. But the more I dig the more I discover not about the Nightside but about the great question in my life: exactly who—and what—was my long-vanished mother.<br><br><br> <br>Paying jobs are one thing. Personal quests are another. And I've been warned that uncovering the facts about dear old mum could be a very bad thing not just for the Nightside but for all of existence.<br><br><br> <br>Still I can't stop . . . I'm John Taylor. Finding things is who I am. It's what I do. Whatever the consequences . . .