“Who’s this then?” a voice said behind her.

She spun in her seat to see Tommy glaring at her. She stood quickly, nearly knocking the wobbly table over in the process. “He’s another reporter. He can help find your sister.”

Powolski reached out his hand. “Adrien Powolski.”

Hesitantly, Tommy shook it. He pulled up another chair and perched on the edge of it. “I didn’t say to bring anybody.”

Powolski jerked a thumb in Cassie’s direction. “Does this look like a broad who knows where to find the Dark Horse Pub, let alone go in it?”

Tommy grinned, displaying snaggled, browned teeth. “That’s the fun of it, idn’t?”

Great, just what she needed: two men in league against her. “Can we focus on why we’re here, please?”

“Not yet.” Powolski stood and reached out his hand. “Got a quarter?”

“What? Why?”

“This is your party. You’re paying.”

Grumbling, Cassie opened her wallet and placed the requested sum in her companion’s hand.

A moment later, he returned with three pints. He took a long draught of his before he motioned to Cassie. “Now you may speak.”

Cassie rolled her eyes, hoping neither of them could see it in the dark room. “Does anyone in your family know where your sister is?”

“In my family, no. You need to be looking at her husband.”

Powolski cut in. “You’re telling me one of the biggest crime families in the city had nothing to do with this?”

Tommy kept his gaze steady on Powolski longer than was comfortable. Then he shifted away and took his time lighting a cigarette. “What you need to understand is that the police always operate a few years behind. Sometimes reporters are ahead of ‘em, but not if they’re using the coppers as their source.” He held his cigarette up between two fingers and pointed at Cassie. “I saw who you were talking to. And the police have this all wrong.”

“You’re saying somebody else has moved in to take over the territory,” Powolski said.

“Give the man a prize.”

“And this other group has Mrs. Walker,” Cassie hazarded.

“Not a group. It’s Walker himself, I’m telling you. He’s been working his way up the ladder, and now he wants to take over. He’s using his own wife as leverage.”

“But why go to the police?” Cassie asked.

“Because the police are stupid, that’s why.” Tommy stood and leaned over her. “They’re playing right into his hands. And, so far, so are you.” With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“You going to drink that?” Powolski asked, indicating Cassie’s untouched pint.

Cassie motioned that he could have it. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Who knows. I’ve got a few contacts I can reach out to, see what they’ve heard about the Tiatellis lately.” He downed the rest of the beer. “Shall we?” He stood and offered Cassie his hand.

“Why, Mr. Powolski, I’d almost say you were a gentleman.”

He grinned and led her out of the pub.

***

The next afternoon, Mr. O’Neill was waiting for Cassie when she walked out of the newspaper building. She stopped short. “Are you surveilling me now, Mr. O’Neill?”

“Why are you meeting with Tommy Tiatelli?”

“How do you know that?” Cassie immediately cursed herself for inadvertently admitting he was right. If she wanted to continue in this work, she needed to improve her ability to lie on the spot.

“My man who was tailing Tommy last night said there was a very high-class woman in the Dark Horse Pub. He mentioned it because it was odd. And what high-class woman would be going into that place at that time of night, I wondered. And the only answer I could come up with is you.”

“All right, you figured it out. You win. But, tell me, what do you know about Mr. Walker?”

“Mr. Walker? What about him?”

“Has he been involved in his in-laws’ business dealings at all? You said the whole family was a nuisance. Do you include Walker in that?”

“This feels suspiciously like interfering in my investigation.”

“I have the right to ask questions. It’s my job.”

“Well, the next time I catch you asking questions, I’m going to speak to your Mr. Ellerbee, and what will he say? Will he back you up on this story?”

Time to put her lying skills to the test. “Yes, in fact. He’s assigned a second reporter to help with the story.”

“He put a man on it, you mean.”

“If that is all, Mr. O’Neill, I bid you good day.” She swept around Mr. O’Neill, and he didn’t follow. She darted around the first corner she came to and leaned against the wall to compose herself.

She was in the middle of something big, that was clear. She only prayed she was up to the challenge.

***

That evening at home in the parlor, Cassie couldn’t focus on the book in her hand. She puzzled instead over the case, trying to determine which of the key players she could trust.

Her father looked up from his newspaper. “Something on your mind?”

Cassie forced a smile. “Just work. Actually, I’m going to go up, if you don’t mind.” She gave her father a peck on the cheek before heading upstairs to her room where she would be free to ruminate. She stashed her novel in the nightstand and perched on the edge of the bed, starting to remove the pins from her hair as she thought.

The main question was what Walker’s role was in all this. Was he a husband missing his wife, or was he pulling all the strings? She needed to see what Walker was up to—preferably without him knowing. O’Neill hadn’t mentioned he had any of his men tailing Walker, so hopefully she was safe to follow him discreetly. She would stay away from Tommy Tiatelli for now to avoid O’Neill getting further involved.

Four

The next morning, Cassie dressed in a simple dark gray dress that she hoped would help her blend into the crowd. She sent a quick note to the office informing Ellerbee she was ill and wouldn’t be in that day. She doubted he would care. He had really only hired her because her father had asked him to, and Ellerbee thought it would give him an inside lead on political stories.

She headed to the Walkers’ apartment building and hovered across the street, pretending variously to be waiting for someone, to be browsing the flower stall across the street, and to be lost. She was enacting the latter scene when a familiar face stepped into her path.