The TormentI 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
