After leaving the Gray Woman, I return to Empire Investments. I soon cross the threshold to my outer reception chamber. Prudence steps out from behind her desk. In some ways, she looks as she always does, from her neatly-styled red hair to her tailored tweed suit. In other ways, there’s no missing the new aura of worry that surrounds her.
“We haven’t had a chance to talk,” says Prudence. “Not since…”
“I spoke to your brother in an alley?”
“Yes, that. I don’t want you to think he’s a criminal.”
“I’m not the law. What happens with your family is always your own business.”
“Oh. So, nothing else bothers you?”
I know what she’s referring to here. The fact that Vice brought up Fyodor the Rus. And in truth, that irks me quite a lot. But it’s not in my best interest to share that concern unt
