He wasn’t hard to find. A crowd had already gathered at the pub, and Mick was holding court in the middle of it. He was a gangly man with a swath of long, yellowy-white hair. He held a crowd spellbound, gesturing with his hands as he gazed into space, his Irish brogue thick as he spun his tales.

“Ireland is home of the proud, but it doesn’t have the freedom that I’ve found in America,” he said. “The Irishmen of the Five Points are grumbling, growling, strong, and loyal. We’ve grabbed our plot of this godforsaken city and made it our own. We may be poor, but we are free men!” he roared. “The days of crawling on our bellies are over. We bow to no one. We fear no one.”

Some good-natured foot stomping and growls of approval rose from the crowd, but a voice from the back challenged him. “Not even the Blackstones?”

“Especially not the Blackstones,” Mick said, warming to the topic. “Oh, they had me once,” he conceded. “They locked me in a dungeon and tried to send me to the gallows, but they couldn’t break me. No, sir! And my loyal Ruby visited me every day in that dank cell. She was a font of female compassion, a balm for any man’s abused soul.”

A few catcalls rang out, but Mick caught Patrick’s gaze through the smoky interior.

“Well then, not-quite-Father Patrick,” Mick called out. “What brings you into this den of iniquity?”

“We’ve got business to discuss.”

Mick straightened a little. “You hear that, lads? I’ve got important business with the neighborhood’s best lawyer. Let me have a beer first.”

Patrick shook his head. “Sorry, Mick. I promised my mother I’d bring home dinner, and she’s waiting. Let’s go outside now.”

Mick didn’t look happy about it, but he followed Patrick out the pub’s back door. Talking about Mrs. Kellerman’s surprising offer on a public street wasn’t ideal. There were people in this neighborhood who’d kill for a thousand dollars, but Ruby had made it plain Patrick wasn’t welcome at their place.

“Well?” Mick asked as they shuffled into the grubby alley behind the pub. “How many copies of my book are they going to print? And when can I get paid for them?” His hand trembled as he lit a cigarette.

Mick would get fifteen percent of the book’s profit, and Patrick would get two percent if he won the lawsuits the Blackstones were sure to launch. The money would be welcome, but the bigger prize would be publicity for Patrick’s legal services. Winning a case against the Blackstones’ intimidating phalanx of lawyers would catapult him to fame in the city, but first he was legally obligated to pass along Mrs. Kellerman’s offer.