When I got home, Tony met me at the door, face pale. I glanced at Pearson, who seemed unperturbed. Tony took my hand. "Come with me." He drew me out of sight by the stair. Then he turned to me, voice shaking. "Did he hurt you?"

"Tony, I was at the Spadros Women's Club, taking tea with your mother."

The color returned to his face. "I got word that my father was also there. My father went into the Women's Club itself!" Tony sounded scandalized, and ashamed of his father's behavior.

So Tony had his spies as well. "I invited your mother to tea. The rest was ... most unexpected. But all's well. I'm unharmed, although somewhat wiser."

Tony pulled me to his chest in a tight hug. "Thank the Dealer." He kissed the top of my head. "My father delights in finding ways to hurt me."

I hugged Tony back, moved by his misfortune of having Roy for a father. My father Peedro Sluff might be foul and lewd, greedy and slothful, but he had never intentionally hurt me.

And suddenly, I had a new name for the list of people who had motive to hurt me: Roy Spadros. While I always thought he reveled in causing me harm, the idea that he would deliberately harm me in order to hurt Tony was new.

Tony let go of me and took my hand. "I have news." We went into his study, where Sawbuck already sat. Tony sat at his desk, opening a ledger stuffed with notes. I sat next to Sawbuck, wondering what this was all about.

"Your suspicion that these scoundrels are using our own money against us was correct," Tony said. He picked up a list. "They've bought — black cloth — damn them! The cloth I wanted for the casino!" A spasm of annoyance crossed his face. "Stamp ink, red. Well, that's no surprise, they are making those cards, after all. Ammonium nitrate — diatomaceous earth — paraffin — clock parts?" Tony shook his head. "I can't make sense of it."

I said, "May I use your library to investigate these items? Perhaps I might find a common thread."

Sawbuck nodded. "That's a good idea."

"Yes, it is," Tony said. "But you never had to ask — you're welcome to go there anytime you wish."

I chided myself for not asking earlier. Tony had a great many books which might be helpful to me. "When the accountant tells us more ...?"

"I'll pass it along to you at once," Tony said. Then he paused for several seconds. "Why the cloth? I planned it for the draperies —" He returned to musing, hand to his chin.

After a minute of this, Sawbuck stirred. "Do you have any orders, sir?"

Tony shook his head, waving Sawbuck away. "No, not yet. Once we deduce what they're up to, I'll know what to do."

"Yes, sir." Sawbuck left, closing the door behind him.

"Tony?"

He closed the ledger and placed it on the desk, leaning his elbows atop it. "Yes, my love?"

"How many of your men were once your father's?"

Tony didn't react. "All but Ten. He dislikes my father and refuses to work for him." He gave a slight smile. "One reason I trust him." He paused. "So you've perceived our predicament."

He sounded impressed, but it didn't take too fine a logic to reason out that one.

"But Ten's goal is to find loyal men." The thought didn't seem to bring Tony any happiness. "I can't do anything overt to my father — at least, not in front of the men — nor can he do anything overt to us. A stalemate, but better than the alternative." He paused, a pensive look on his face. "My life seems filled with such tactics these days." He yawned, rubbing his face with his hands.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Tony, I know something's wrong ..."

He sounded weary. "Jacqui —"

"I ask you, you deny it. I ask Gardena, she says ask you. Ever since she was here, you don't sleep, you're barely eating ... I care about you. I'm worried for your welfare. You let me help you in other matters; I want to understand why I can't help with this."

Tony put his face in his hands for a long moment. "Jacqui —" He raised his head. "Please stop. These questions aren't helping."

"But —"

"Leave Gardena alone. She's — she's in tremendous danger." He hesitated. "In the most danger of anyone involved. I — I can't — I wish I knew how to tell you without making things worse. The best way to help is to trust me."

I nodded, not at all understanding. Could it have to do with her grandfather's death? Why would something that happened six years ago put her in such terrible danger now? "Then I'll remain silent. But you must promise to eat and sleep. I don't want you to fall ill."

He smiled at that. "I'll try."

Tony sat silently for a long time. Then he said, "I'll be gone tomorrow until late."

"More work at the casino?"

He nodded, looking at his desk. "You may be asleep before I get home." He took my hands. "I love you, Jacqui. I'll do whatever it takes to make you safe and happy."

I couldn't make the connection between working late at the casino and my safety. Or happiness. What did he mean?

I spent the rest of the day reading in Tony's library. I wasn't good at reading, having come to it late in life, but I did enjoy it.

I took the list of items from Tony's investigation and ran down it.

Black cloth ... that could be used for any number of things.

Red stamp ink seemed obvious. I imagined that when the accountant finished he would find large purchases of business cards as well.

I found ammonium nitrate in a book of Tony's called "Chemical Compounds." Most of the chapter contained material I didn't understand. But one section interested me:

Uses: primarily used as a fertilizer, although it can be explosive if handled incorrectly. Must be sealed well or will absorb water and coalesce into a solid mass.

There were more:

Diatomaceous earth: fossilized remains of the diatom, a hard-shelled algae. Used as a filtration aid, a mechanical insecticide, an abrasive in metal polishes, an absorbent, a stabilizing component of dynamite, and a thermal insulator.

Paraffin: a type of wax used to make candles. Also used as a sealant.

I rubbed my forehead. Fertilizer, insecticide, candles? Did these false Red Dogs mean to run a farm? No, that couldn't be it. What was this about dynamite?

I searched the book but could find nothing on the subject. I knew dynamite was used to destroy the bridges during the Alcatraz Coup. Did they want to destroy more of them?

I put the book away and searched Tony's library for any book which might shed light on how one made dynamite. The closest I found were the volumes, The History of Bridges, which spoke of the Coup. But they were silent on how the substance was made.

I set the book on my chair and went outside. The gardeners were busy planting for the spring, and I went to one of them. "Excuse me."

The man was perhaps sixty, with part of a folded newspaper stuck in his back pocket. "Yes, mum, how may I help you?"

"Ammonium nitrate. How is it used?"

"Ah, mum, we don't use anything like that here. The big farms in Clubb quadrant use that stuff. Don't need it in a small garden like this."

Our gardens were ten times the size of Ma's back home. "Why not? Is it dangerous?"

He shrugged. "Anything's dangerous if you don't know how to use it. But like I said, don't need it. Spadros soil is good enough without it."

"Thank you." I turned aside, then said, "if you were wanting to blow something up, would you use that?"

"Mum?"

"Ammonium nitrate."

He paused. "Well, you could, but why would you go to the trouble? You could buy explosives for a lot less bother." He took the paper from his back pocket and unfolded it. "Look there."

He pointed to an ad:

Extra Dynamite

Strong enough for mining

Safer than nitroglycerin

Contains 65% ammonium nitrate

Interesting. If the Spadros Family began buying up dynamite, someone would surely notice. But this? A sly move indeed. "Do you know how this is made?"

"No, mum, but my father used to work in the mines. He turned his cards in last year and we still got all his stuff. I'll see if he had anything about it."

"Thank you so much. This would be most helpful."

"My pleasure, mum."

I went to Tony. "I think they're making explosives."

His eyes widened. "To destroy what?"

"I have no idea."

***

Unable to move, I watched, horrified, as a dark-skinned man in white walked through the factory towards me. He looked straight at me —

I woke with a start. Tony slept peacefully.

Something wasn't right.

I was so afraid that day at the factory, I might have believed anyone approaching in white to be Jack, but now ....

The man in white I saw seemed heavier, shorter. Was someone impersonating Jack Diamond there at the factory?

Why would someone do that?

Why would Jack allow someone to do that?

Ah, I thought. To provide an alibi.

My heart sank. A stalemate, indeed.

Jack must have told his workers to say this imposter was him.

Another way to discredit me. If I brought charges, yet Jack could prove beyond doubt that he was somewhere else at the time, I would never be given another chance to speak against him. He would get away with everything he had done.