While Diego was getting himself reacquainted with Charlie more or less, (Rank) (Name) found themself in New Haven. They carried the precious gems Lady Highmore had given the resistance as funds, and a cloak to change into once they lost the tail from the Justice Corps. The cloak itself was hidden in their long coat, and was revealed when it was reversed and the hood pulled out of the hidden lining.

"Justice, my ass." (Name) thought as they walked. "Lawson's policies have brought bedlam to Concordia!" Lawson's term as Mayor didn't bring justice; if anything, crime was growing in Concordia, a fact that was repressed by the New Truth, Lawson's mouthpiece of a newspaper unless the crime was connected to some form of sedition or acting against the Mayor. But anyone with eyes could see that the louts of the city were having a grand old time with the rulings. People who committed crimes and those connected to those people were discriminated against, if they weren't arrested and abused by the Justice Corps. People who felt they were served an injustice took matters into their own hands, inspired by Lawson's speeches of justice. Robberies, assaults, murders the Flying Squad weren't investigating, rape…they were all increasing at an alarming rate, and (Rank) (Name) had the bleakest feeling that things in Concordia were going to get worse before they got better. (Name) recalled the letter Diego left in his office, after they realized the key he slipped them was to the new lock he installed.

"If you are reading this, then Lawson has found a way to be rid of me, one way or another." the letter said. "We both know he is a madman, (Name), so I am leaving you some funds. There is no doubt you can find them, I've hidden them all over my office, which you've probably learned by now has a new lock. Please give my apologies to Chief Wright. There are other things, things you can sell—in New Haven is a pawnshop owned by a fence I used in my old life. He gives good prices, and is very discreet. When you go to him, tell him Mister Wolf sent you and that the funds you seek from him are to bring down Prince Charming."

"'Prince Charming'…a nickname Lawson's had since his days as a prosecutor." (Name) mused. "He hates that nickname. Goddamnit, Diego…if you could see what's happening in the city…" If Diego could see what was happening, he would react, especially to the rapes. Diego was an incorrigible rakehell at times, but he was a gentleman to his core. To him, an assault on a lady was unforgivable, and a lady was a lady no matter her situation. That there was no sign of him being spotted interfering with a rape had (Name) hope Diego had left the city, which was what they told Justice Corps officials upon being questioned. On the other hand, Diego tended to be subtle when he retaliated, to the point that no one would know of such a retaliation, and nothing like what has been happening in Concordia. How many of those who "sought justice", in truth took revenge, hurt others who had nothing to do with their perceived injustice? How many innocents were caught in the crossfire as citizens attacked one another?

"Can I help you?" a voice asked. (Name) looked around to find themself in the shop they were recommended. The proprietor was an old man who stood behind the counter.

"I believe you can." (Name) said as they pulled out the gemstones. "How much are these worth?"

"My, my…" The shopkeeper took the gems and examined them under a loupe. "These are some fine specimens. I can give you…fifty shillings for the lot."

"Fifty shillings?!" The shopkeeper laughed at (Name)'s face.

"Had your blood goin' there, didn't I dearie? Nah, that price may be good if these were glass or paste, but I know my gems. I can give you fifty shillings per gem."

"Fifty per gem?" (Name) asked. "That's still outrageous! These have to be worth at least five hundred each!"

"Not quite, especially in these dark times. People have been floodin' the market with their jewels, lookin' to get out of Concordia, and I can't say I blame them. But I'll give you a break…these are loose gems, so they're a trite more valuable than if they were set in a piece of jewelry. Eighty shillings per gem."

"Mister Wolf told me you give good prices, especially if the funds are used to bring down Prince Charming. I am going to skin his hide if I—"

"I think I have what you're lookin' for in the back." The shopkeeper interrupted. He looked around, then led (Name) to the back of the shop, where there was a door. "Step into my parlor, dearie, and we'll talk business." (Name) went through the door where there was a parlor like one saw in a house of humble means. The shopkeeper shut the door and locked it tight; the number of locks told (Name) this person took his security seriously.

"So, Mister Wolf sent you, did he?" The shopkeeper asked. "Haven't heard from him in a long time. When Prince Charming ascended to the throne as the tyrant king, I admit I feared the worst."

"He's good at surviving. He gave me your name, praised your discretion and the value you place on whatever he brought to fence."

"Mister Wolf is too kind. Sadly, I have to be careful—Justice Corps bastards have been sniffin' around, and like I said, lots of folks have been sellin' their baubles to get out of the city when Lawson decided to arrest people left and right for no good reason. That brings the value down."

"I know times are rough," (Name) said. "But I still say they're worth five hundred shillings a gem."

"Ah, dearie, you're going to get the dogs sniffin' on me if I pay too much, and put me in hock." The shopkeeper said. "I'll give you a hundred shillings per gem."

"Three hundred shillings."

"One hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred shillings per gem, and that's my final offer."

"Deal." They shook on it and the shopkeeper reached into a lockbox and counted out the shillings. A bell suddenly rang in the room; the shopkeeper looked up and (Name) saw a bell over the doorway. He put a finger to his mouth to signal silence as he slid open a small panel (Name) didn't notice on the way in; this panel served as a peephole looking into the shop.

"It's the Corps!" The shopkeeper cried, keeping his voice low. "They're tearin' up the shop!" (Name) had already changed into the cloak and pulled the hood up.

"Damn! Is there another way out of this room?" (Name) asked. The shopkeeper nodded and moved a rug aside before pulling the bookcase it was in front of out. (Name) could see the scratches the rug hid as the bookcase revealed a hidden passage.

"This'll take you straight to the sewers," The shopkeeper said. "You're on your own from here, dearie. I highly recommend you emerge in another district, to keep the dogs off."

"Thank you. What you've done is a great help."

"Don't thank me, dearie, I'm just tryin' to make a living. Lawson always says "long live Concordia", but since he became Mayor, he's brought nothin' but death to it. There's a panel on your right side that you need to pull shut, it'll protect us both."

"Of course." (Name) saw the panel pocketed into the wall, pulled it shut as the bookcase was moved in place. Then they rushed down the passage until they reached the sewers. (Rank) (Name) walked on, finding their way through the street signs posted in the tunnels. They walked until they reached an exit in the sewers (Name) recognized as leading towards the Crimson River. They crept out of the exit, the river rushing in front of them and in the back of them was a church yard.

"Crimson River Parish Church." (Name) said, recognizing where they were. "I can stay there to catch my breath." They made their way to the church yard, entered the church and sat in the pews. As they removed the cloak and turned it back into a long coat, (Name) saw something out of the corner of their eye, movement towards the altar.

"Katherine?" (Name) asked. The figure jumped, and (Name) saw that it was Katherine Woolf. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be laying low?"

"I'm…" Katherine started, then sighed. "I'm leaving a message."

"To another resistance member."

"To a source. This source is in Lawson's regime, and gives me good information which I then pass on to the resistance."

"So the resistance has a spy in Lawson's ranks."

"Not high-up, but my source is able to get what is needed and is trustworthy. Why are you here, (Name)?"

"I managed to sell the gems Lady Highmore gave the resistance." (Name) said as they handed the shillings to Katherine. "It's not the best price, but apparently we're not the only ones selling things like gems and jewelry."

"Thank you. This will help us very much." Katherine said. "Listen, is it just me or have the churches been empty lately? Not of parishioners, but less priests have been around."

"Now that you mention it, I don't see Father Saccarelli here. He's the priest in charge of this church. But he could be at the orphanage he runs, Saint Gerolamo Emiliani's Children's Home."

"I don't think it's other projects that have the priests out of the church."

"After Father Donovan, I'm inclined to agree." (Name) crossed themself remembering the Irish priest who was murdered trying to help Irish immigrants settle in Concordia. The only balm to that was that Father Donovan's killer met a grim fate a week after his arrest—apparently the Irish and Italian gangs were Catholic enough to not tolerate the murder of a priest, especially when the body was desecrated to hide the crime.

"Katherine, your source…" (Name) began, but Katherine shook her head.

"I can't reveal my source, (Name)." Katherine said. "Not even to you. It would endanger all of us."

"But if something were to happen to you, and a message needed to get to this source—"

"You saw where I hid the messages. If something happens, just leave one under the altar cloth. My source will find it."

"How will this source know it's safe?" Katherine walked up to them.

"Luke 23:39." Katherine whispered in their ear, then left. Luke 23:39…that would be the Gospel of Luke, verse 23, line 39…(Name) shook their head and headed for the orphanage. That should jog their memory, and if the walk didn't help, Father Saccarelli could remind them.


Saint Gerolamo Emiliani's Children's Home was located at a large manor house in the better part of Crimson Banks. According to Father Saccarelli, a member of the congregation left most of his estate to the church, so when the wealthy man died of illness the church decided to convert the house here into an orphanage. Actually, the orphanage had been Father Saccarelli's idea, and he took children in from everywhere—the streets, brothels, prisons…the last two had (Name) crossing themself in prayer, because they knew how vulnerable children born in prison or to prostitutes—or ended up in a brothel another way they didn't want to think about—were in these dark times.

"Please, God, help me protect the innocent." (Name) muttered as they approached the front door. "Even Your Son implored us to defend the fatherless." They knocked on the door. It was answered by the matron, who let them in. (Name) had volunteered at the orphanage from time to time, especially after the gang war when they provided a place for the street children as the hospital became overwhelmed and had to turn out those not injured.

"(Name)? Is that you?" a voice asked. (Name) stepped into the parlor and saw Father Saccarelli, surrounded by some of his charges, reading from the bible.

"Hello, Father." (Name) said. "I know it's been a long time."

"It is good to see you, my child." Father Saccarelli replied. "These days must be keeping you busy."

"They are, in more ways than one. Father, can we talk in private?"

"Of course. Bambini, wash up for supper."

"Yes, Father." The children said, going upstairs. Father Saccarelli gestured to (Name) to sit.

"Father, it is only recently that I have noticed the churches are bereft of their priests." (Name) said. "What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"No, my child. Everything is not all right." Father Saccarelli said, frowning. "La città è impazzita."

"Father, I learned a lot of things in Sunday school, but Italian isn't one of them."

"The city has gone mad, I said. Mayor Lawson, he was a good man, but he is proving himself to be a terrible Mayor."

"Careful, Father. Even the walls have ears and I don't want to see you arrested for 'sedition'."

"(Name), if you were going to arrest me for stating my opinion, you would have done so. As to what has been happening, we have been decreasing our services due to the 'emergency situation'. Our churches are open for contemplation and prayer, but are otherwise closed."

"Closed? So you're not conducting mass anymore?"

"We are no longer taking confessions, (Name). It was a difficult decision for us to make, but we do not have a choice."

"You once told me there was no such thing as 'no choice', only an unwillingness to live with the alternatives. Whatever drove you and the other priests to not take confessions anymore, it has to be bad."

"We are not taking confessions because we are required to report them to the Justice Corps."

"WHAT?!" (Name) was aghast. Priests were being ordered…to report the confessions they heard to the Justice Corps?

"That was my response as well. Mayor Lawson, he demands we inform his brutes about what we hear, to ferret out crimes being hidden."

"He's gone too far…" (Name) said. "First he ignores state law, which had abolished the death penalty which makes his death sentence on that stupid twit invalid, now he's not only ignoring the separation of church and state, but demanding you violate the seal of the confessional?"

"We tried to resist, to ignore the order, but he has his minions in the confessionals." Father Saccarelli said. "Those who attempt to intervene are arrested; we have managed to warn our congregations of the danger, so no one confesses anymore. I do not know if they're still there, waiting like hounds on the hunt."

"My God…would they be able to see what goes on in the church?"

"They might, it would depend on how the church in question was structured. If anyone looking to stop Mayor Lawson is using the church for their activities, they would have to be very careful."

"The confessionals would be in an isolated part of the church, so anyone in the priest's side wouldn't have a good look at, say, the main altar."

"Not without exposing themselves, no. I know Crimson River Parish has its confessional isolated, to keep such things private. I can not say for certain about other churches in the city."

"All right. Father, before I go, could you remind me what Luke 23:39 was?" (Name) asked.

"Luke 23:39? That was when Jesus was crucified." Father Saccarelli answered. "Two thieves were crucified along with him; one mocked Jesus for not saving Himself, and the other rebuked him, saying that while they deserved their fate, Jesus did not and had asked that Jesus remember him, and Jesus replied…"

"'Amen, I say to you, for you will be with me in Paradise.' The Penitent Thief, Saint Dismas."

"Yes."

"Thank you, Father. I'll come see you soon."

"Go with God, (Rank) (Name). He will see us through this nightmare." (Name) only nodded and left the orphanage. So Katherine was using the story of Saint Dismas to alert her source. But why that particular saint?

"Could it be?" (Name) asked themself as they walked back to the airship. Could Diego be Katherine's source? It was something to consider, and (Name) prayed that things didn't get worse for Concordia during Lawson's reign.