New York, 1922<br/>April 15<br/>11:00 a.m.<br/><br/>Harvey thought he probably looked like some kind of pervert hiding behind some bushes at a child's playground, but it was a risk that he'd taken time and again. He had been watching the teenage daughter of renowned restaurateur Antonio Carboni babysit her two younger siblings for the past hour, and so far he had observed that she was a terrible babysitter. Her eyes had not left her book the entire time, sitting on a bench and chewing on her thumb and completely ignoring her two wards as they ran wild on the playground. Eventually, a black automobile appeared and parked near the sitting girl, and he shrank farther into the bushes. Mr. and Mrs. Carboni emerged from the vehicle and started walking towards their daughter, Harvey catching a snippet of their conversation.<br/><br/>"...brutally murdered. In his own home."<br/><br/>"I hope it was an isolated incident. We only live a block away. We could be next."<br/><br/>"Shush. Don't scare Marie."<br/><br/>They collected their children and took and drove away, leaving Harvey cursing the fact that he had yet to purchase an automobile. He usually had a cab driver that he kept on retainer, but he had been out of town for the past couple of days, and he wasn't about allow any stranger driver to be privy to his not-strictly-legal activities, so hailing a cab to follow them would not be possible. Besides, he knew where they lived and could follow up later.<br/><br/>He walked a little ways until he ended up on a busy street filled with automobiles. He hailed a cab and lit a cigarette as he climbed in the back. He gave his office address to the cabbie and pulled out the rolled up morning newspaper that he'd been keeping in his coat. Aside from his somewhat desperate-sounding advertisement for his detective services, there was nothing of interest, meaning whatever murder Carboni was talking about hadn't made its way into the media yet. A fact he was sure would soon be remedied.<br/><br/>Going to the office didn't fill him with the excitement it used to. He'd gotten the reputation of being picky, and a little rude, with his clients, and now few even bothered to show up anymore. As the cab pulled up to the front of the commercial apartment, Harvey wondered if he'd even be able to pay the phone bill to<span style="font-style: italic">get</span>new clients.