Watters tapped his shoulder, where the revolver hung reassuringly heavy in its holster. After his last encounter with the denizens of Atlantic Street, he was taking no chances. 'You know the area better than I do, Silver, what would you do?'
'I'd bring in the Brigade of Guards and two regiments of Highlanders if they were not already busy outside Sevastopol.'
Watters smiled. 'You don't like Atlantic Street, do you?'
'Larkin's called up every available man, doubled the area of beats in quiet locations to garner more and asked for reinforcements from the county police,' Silver murmured. 'Murder, attempted murder, and an attack on a detective in one street within three days is a bit much, even for our man Larkin.'
With yellow light from the gas streetlamps reflecting from their bodies, th
