The SolutionTony’s carriage pulled in front of my apartments, and the footman came around. He was a slender man close to thirty with pale skin, a sprinkling of freckles, and light brown hair, dressed in black and silver Spadros Family livery. He looked familiar.
He opened the door, then stood aside, one hand out to help me down the steps.
I stepped out to the sidewalk. “You’re one of the Pearsons.”
He snapped to attention. “Alan Pearson, mum, at your service.”
I thought he’d become Tony’s night footman. Perhaps the arrangement didn’t work as well as he’d hoped. “A pleasure.” He didn’t reply, so I went up the steps.
He moved past me, knocking on the door, then stood aside, at attention once more.
Blitz opened the door, and he did not look happy. “Mrs. Spadros.” As I passed, he said to
