He beamed. “Yeah, and Matt and Lorna are both out with their carriages now. We’re all going to head in together once they’re back. Monty said he might take Sarah and your rig out later. He’s cool with us coming in once it starts getting late.”

“Monty is the best,” Katie said. “Okay, thank you, thank you. We have an appointment. We’ll see you later.”

He nodded. “Back to it!” he said, and crawling up on his little stand again, he posed as Satchmo, the great Louis Armstrong.

Neither Lorna’s nor Matt’s carriages were resting at the curb; both were out with tourists, Dan reckoned.

He looked over the area. It wasn’t as busy as it might have been.

But it was still filled with humanity.

“On to Magazine. I’ll call Axel, and he’ll have someone meet us there to take the card back to the offices so forensics can get on it.”

She nodded, watching people on the street.

“What are you thinking?”

She let out a sigh. “I think we all have a tendency to think bad things happen to other people. We never think it will happen to us. I’m sure that made most Londoners feel safe back in the Jack the Ripper days. They weren’t prostitutes in the Whitechapel area, so they were going to be okay. They’ll stay out by day and run back to their hotels when they start to get nervous. I imagine some of the small bed-and-breakfast places might be losing clientele.”

“A lot of people use travel sites where people just own a place and rent it out, too,” Dan said. “Houses, rooms. Well, I guess they’re paid in advance.”

“People who feel they aren’t vulnerable will stay,” Katie said.

“And we do have our own residents, all of whom are nervous right now, I imagine.”

“He’s attacking the whole city, attacking the economy. Can you have an agenda against a city?”

“Why not?” Dan asked quietly. “Except—”

“Except you think it has to do with my father.”

“Not because he did anything wrong, Katie. But because he was a good man.”

“I know,” she said softly.

They left the Quarter and headed down Magazine Street. Like the French Quarter, it offered shops, clubs and plenty of great restaurants mixed in with office space.

They found parking and Carly Britton’s office. She was on the third floor of a building Dan thought must have been built in the late 1920s or perhaps the 1930s. It had nice deco touches in the arches and paint and was kept in good repair.

When they tapped at the door, they were bidden to enter. There was a reception area with about twenty chairs. The woman was a casting director, so she would have a receptionist out here and perhaps interview people in an inner office. A door to the right of the desk suggested as much.