Who wanted James dead?
Plenty of people.
Though he couldn't be certain about anyone else, Maltz knew he wanted James dead.
His partner wanted James dead too.
The old chief pulled the napkin from his collar and looked toward his partner. Arthur was already wiping the grease and sauce from his hands.
The two exchanged a smile, their eyes conveying the same message-
Since he'd chosen to disappear, he might as well disappear for good!
About three minutes later, the Shire District Police Department's carriage left the little square and headed straight for Moon Street.
Though James was the chief of Dort District, Moon Street was in Shire District.
If something happened on Moon Street, the Shire District Police Department naturally had jurisdiction.
Unlike other middle-class neighborhoods, Moon Street ranked low among the properties favored by Shire District's middle class. In fact, it was close to the bottom.
It wasn't that Moon Street was a bad place.
Quite the opposite: the surroundings were lovely, crime was low, and the houses were large enough to offer exceptionally spacious living.
But it was precisely their size that put so many middle-class buyers off.
The price per unit of floor space was the same, but the extra space meant an unbearable burden for the middle class, who were already treading on thin ice.
As for the wealthy?
Though the homes on Moon Street were almost as large as the villas in the Whitebird District, the truly wealthy still chose the Whitebird District.
Even claims that this had originally been the real Whitebird Street, renamed Moon Street for some unknown reason, made no difference.
Moon Street would always be Moon Street.
An unbridgeable gulf separated it from Whitebird Street.
The moment Arthur and Maltz stepped down from the carriage, four of James's men, gagged