I sat on the sofa in my study, examining the card in my hand. Was this a coincidence? Or were these false Red Dogs claiming responsibility for this outrage?

Tony soon followed. “You’re not going to believe this.” He sat in an armchair across from me, elbows on his knees, head down. “The turnip truck spilled directly beyond a street under construction. Several men moved the warning signs a few hours ago, filled the hole with sand, and spread cloth painted like cobblestones. In the twilight, the driver never saw the danger.”

I handed him the Red Dog card. “It was a trap.”

Tony peered at the card, then nodded.

I shook my head. “Someone knew when we left Hart quadrant and our route.”

“How can you be sure?”

“This took planning.”

I gasped, recalling Mrs. Bryce’s sale.

“What is it?”

Where to begin? “Master Rainbow claimed a black-haired woman named Birdie, who he met when he thought Frank Pagliacci was with the District Attorney’s office —”

“Wait,” Tony said. “Master Rainbow knew Frank Pagliacci?”

Oh, dear. “Master Hogan didn’t tell you?”

Tony frowned. “No, he didn’t.” He shook his head. “Never mind that. What about this woman?”

I bit my lip. I made Sawbuck promise not to tell, and then I did it myself. This wasn’t going to end well.

I took a deep breath and let it out. “He later saw Birdie at the scene of a murder. I believe the person murdered had knowledge of the explosion, and this woman may have tried to silence her. I think Birdie and Frank Pagliacci, or perhaps another of his crew, set the bomb which destroyed Master Rainbow’s yacht.”

Tony peered at me, a slight frown on his face. “So they were trying to kill those who might identify them.”

“Yes. I think your father’s after them, which may be why.”

If Jack Diamond had set alibis in advance as I suspected, he was more cunning than I thought. Not only did this protect him from Roy, but from Frank as well.

Tony grinned. “Good for him.” But then he paused. “So what does this have to do with my driver?”

“We’d best call Master Hogan in.”

Tony left to find Sawbuck. Amelia entered with my mail — which I had her put on my desk — and tea. “Master Hogan and my husband will be joining us; please bring tea for them as well.”

“It’s almost time to dress for dinner.”

“We’ll take dinner in here.”

“Yes, mum.”

I had well and truly erred. Once Tony realized Sawbuck hid something of this magnitude he would question what else he’d hidden. Sawbuck hid our adventures the night Marja died from Tony because I asked him to, and would be furious.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Tony and Sawbuck stalked in. “I must apologize.”

That stopped them in their tracks.

“I asked Master Hogan to withhold certain events, and he did so out of love for you. No other reason.”

Tony turned away, still angry.

Sawbuck blushed.

I stared at him, so astonished that it took a moment to regain my composure. Sawbuck loved Tony, but not as a father or older brother, as I'd thought, nor even as a cousin. “Master Hogan —”

Sawbuck knew that I knew. “Please, call me Ten. If you will.”

I felt humbled, melancholy. “I’m truly sorry. For everything.”

Tony, still looking away, nodded. He hadn’t noticed a thing.

I took a deep breath. “I suppose I'd best begin at the beginning.”

The one thing I couldn’t do was to reveal Rachel Diamond’s intervention to help Ma. Tony’s mother Molly had been crystal clear on that account. If anyone knew Ma was alive, it would put her — and possibly Mrs. Diamond — in mortal danger. So I told them the Kerr’s housekeeper Marja raised me, Joe, Josie, and my kitchen maids Ottilie, Poignee, and Treysa, who Tony had killed.

Tony turned pensive at that.

Then I described Marja’s letter, which warned a mutual friend was to be murdered. I left home the night Tony worked late at the casino to meet with Marja, only to find her mortally shot.

“Good gods,” Tony said. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

I shrugged, but his words were such an echo of Joe’s that it touched me. “Master ... Ten found her. The police came, so we ran. But then Master Rainbow told us a woman with light skin and jet black hair — who called herself Birdie — just shot at him.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “She shot at him, too?”

Too? Could a woman have murdered Marja? But why? I nodded, saying to Sawbuck, “But what driver had we that night?”

Sawbuck paled. “The same.”

“This evening was no accident, Tony. Our driver saw something that night he shouldn’t have, and now he’s dead.”

If I hadn’t gone out that night, perhaps neither of them would have died. My gaze fell to the blood-stained card on the table. How long would any of us survive? “You wanted to know where I went before you found me at Madame’s wearing her mourning garb? I visited David Bryce, the boy who was kidnapped.”

“Is he well?” Tony said.

I shook my head. “But his mother made a large sale of gray cloth earlier this month to a young woman with black hair. The woman said it was for art.”

Tony and Sawbuck exchanged glances.

“Art,” Tony said bitterly. He pointed at the card. “Perhaps it’s best she not know she met with one of her child’s kidnappers.”

I shuddered, glancing towards the letters on my desk. “When I spoke with your father at the Women’s Club —”

Sawbuck snorted in disdain, Tony flinched, and I let out a sigh. “Yes, I know. But I did learn something.”

Tony leaned forward.

“Your father mentioned how he learned of your injury —”

“Oh?” Tony said. “I always wondered.”

“An anonymous letter from a young black-haired woman —”

“Ah,” Sawbuck said. “Birdie.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Then I turned to Tony. “Your father agrees to let us examine the letter ... if we go to him for it.”

Sawbuck began to laugh. “This is rich! The man won’t even help his own son without extracting some petty torment.”

Tony shook his head. “Are you surprised? If this is all, let’s participate in his petty torment and be done with it.”

I wasn’t looking forward to this.

“Oh,” Tony said, “I almost forgot. Pearson!”

Pearson opened the door and stuck his head in. “Yes, sir?”

“The package.”

“Yes, sir.” Pearson brought in a medium-sized box wrapped in white paper, handing it to Tony.

Tony offered it to me. “Happy anniversary.”

Sawbuck rose, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll leave you, then.”

“Sure, Ten,” Tony said, his eyes never leaving mine, “thanks for your help.” Once Sawbuck left, Tony said, “Go on, open it.”

Under the paper lay a stationery box: paper, pens, a small bottle of ink, sealing-wax, even matches. “This is perfect!” Now I could send paper, pen, and ink to Joe so he could write me.

“Amelia told me you enjoyed writing whilst in your rooms.”

I felt touched at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.” I put the box on the table and went to him.

He rose, taking my hands in his. “I’m sorry today went so poorly.” He cupped my face in his hands, rested his forehead on mine. “My only desire is for you to be the happiest woman alive. Whatever you wish for is yours.”

I closed my eyes. But what if what I wish for is to be free?