The ApprenticeI stared at him, then past him to the front porch, which was full of police and Tony’s men, all talking with each other.
Monte stumbled outside without a jacket or hat, blood on his shirt and hands, his face a mask of grief. Two policemen guided him.
I opened the door; Honor hurried to lower the steps and help me from the carriage.
By this time, Monte had gone down the front steps, the police beside him, and I ran to them. “What’s happened? Where are they taking you?”
Monte stared at me, mouth open, tears in his reddened eyes. A smear of darkening blood lay upon his cheek. “He’s been stabbed, right in his rooms. I found him —” With that, he began to sob. “How could this happen?”
“Come now, sir,” an older Constable said. “Let’s go on.”
I said, “This man is now the Spadro
