Colin Blaze keeps being sent fortune cookies with odd prophecies inside. The prophecies are highly vague and seem to all come from one Festus Briland.

What really bothered Blaze was how the man managed to get anything delivered at all.

The prophacies themselves were kind of spooky too:

She will knock six times

Monday’s prophecy

The inside of the inside holds a secret

Tuesday’s prophecy

When the Scottish forest marches, run

Wednesday’s first prophecy

The last griffin needs you

Wednesday’s second prophecy

Chose the leftmost apple

Thusday’s prophacy

Attend the three kings when the wind is unfavourable

Friday’s prophacy

The Prophet Festus Briland has never been wrong. He spends his retirement years in a small town where people just call him Bill. He chose the town because nothing cataclysmic or frightening had ever happened there. Festus Briland takes appointments for lunch where he will give a forecast to the person paying for said lunch. Up until last year, every forecast was mundane and relatively pleasant. Then Eve Fortuna moved to town.

Colin Blaze is a (possibly private) detective cursed by a witch to have only cases that no right-thinking person would ever believe were real. The witch hoped that Blaze would be discredited and forced to quit. Instead, Blaze is the champion of the bizarre and marginalised oddities of London.

Colin Blaze has a small office and reception area immediately below his flat on the corner of Boyle Street and Savile Row in London. Due to the curse, the large majority of everyday folk cannot see his door at all. This makes getting mail a bit of a problem but it also means that his landlord frequently forgets to bill him.