Avery Russell stepped into the chaos of the White House, his eyes taking in the Bow Street Runners and the local magistrate, a man named John Dearborn, as they took statements from several brothel patrons. Three men were restrained by iron shackles and seated at a card table in the main gaming room.
“Russell.” One of the Runners, a man called Sam Cady, nodded and spoke to Avery as he came over. “We’ve put a stop to the auction. Unfortunately, the madam threw her account books into the fire, destroying the names of the men who paid to attend. All of the ladies have been placed in an adjoining room, but…”
“But what?”
Cady shrugged his large shoulders and nodded toward the restrained group of men. “One of the gentlemen here swears another man bought a slave, the first one to be sold. He an
