Rollick could hardly see his client’s face through the smoke. The smoke that covered the city like a permanent miasma.
“I need you to find someone for me.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know who they are.” “What I can tell you is that they left a parsnip cut like a rose by the body of the ambassador.”
“The White Rose.”
“Exactly. No one has been able to find him, or even know who he is, but we think he has just tipped his hand by starting to play politics.”
“So, what *do* you have for me to go on?”