“They should be ready by four o’clock.”
Alfred turned to go and stopped at the doorway, turning back toward Buttons, who was rolling the map gingerly.
“You didn’t ask Dr. Cline these questions when he brought me in last week.”
“I knew what he wanted.”
Alfred took a step back into the shop with a small laugh.
“You do realize, of course, that these maps are being printed on his behalf.”
The clerk nodded as he shuffled back to his table. He removed his glasses, lifted his magnifying glass back to his eye socket, and returned to his task without another word.
The tailor shop was in the center of the most expensive street in Galveston. Formally known as Avenue B, the Strand found its identity in elaborate facades of red brick and washed stone while exaggerated windows exuded the colors a
