Chapter 25
Arthur stood in the dark, a damp-ended cigar resting between his thumb and forefinger. The fire had long gone out though he hadn't called to have it re-lit. His eyes sagged with weariness though he would not retire to bed for more hours yet. Sleep was something that eluded him more than most things in this world.
From his vantage point at the window, he couldn't see the dark alleys stretching through the East End, nor the river writhing through the centre of London — but he knew they were there, carrying the ever moving pieces of his empire. This was usually the part he loved. The planning and the poetry of strategy, though his sight across the Irish Sea was more obscured than ever. Was he losing his grip? Had he lost his hold over the city? Kyran was certainly holding out, an
