Bow, the East End, London
“So why’s it called Bow?” Gallowglass said as she squirmed back in her seat and cocked her legs up on the dashboard of the Crossley 20/25. The car was the same make and model used by the Flying Squad of the London Metropolitan Police, and it had carried them from one end of Britain to the other. It was a durable, dependable little auto. St. Cyprian looked at her as he guided the black auto around a lumbering double-decker bus with a double advertisement for a London...