In an isolated corner of a cobblestone street, where only a few lamps cast a dim light over the pavement, August stood facing a man whose features were concealed beneath a wide-brimmed hat.
"The information has been confirmed, sir," the man reported in a low voice. "Davis Mancini is going to meet someone at the horse stable in an hour."
August listened without interrupting. Once the man had finished speaking, he glanced at Samir and gave a slight nod.
Understanding the signal, Samir took out a pouch filled with coins and tossed it toward the informant. The man caught it with both hands and weighed it briefly before bowing his head.
"Thank you, sir."
August's gaze remained fixed on him.
"If this information turns out to be false, I'll hunt you down myself," he warned coldly.
The man stiffened beneath his hat.
"I swear on my life, sir. The information is true. I wouldn't dare deceive you."
August studied him for another moment before Samir intervened.
