The sharpshooter had run up an astonishing amount of debt at nearly every gambling den on East Stave. His loose talk had put Rollins wise to the knowledge that Brekker was sending a team to Fjerda. A little digging and a lot of bribes had yielded the where and when of their departure—intelligence that had proved faulty. Brekker had been one step ahead of him and the Dime Lions. The little canal rat had managed to make it to the Ice Court after all.
