The DistressBlitz drew his revolver and moved past the body, searching the street on both sides. “Hey there! You!”
A police constable younger than I was came over, shock crossing his face as he saw the body. “How’d that get there?”
“I heard a noise at the door not two minutes ago,” I said.
By this time several police constables had hurried up. Blitz and I retreated into the house to let them do their work.
A few minutes later there came a knock; Blitz opened the door.
One of the constables stood there. “Sorry to bother you.”
I came up beside Blitz. “How’d he die?”
Men were loading a body wrapped in a sheet into a wagon.
“Shot, less than an hour ago.” The constable handed over a business card. “You know anything about this?”
A white card, blank on one side, the stamp of a red dog o
