“Password?” the man grunted in a thick Scottish brogue.

“The Fall of Bellerophon,” Colt answered.

The large man stepped to the side, and we were granted entrance. Colt pushed the door open, and we entered the Cerberus Club.

It really was like walking into Lucifer’s kingdom. Immediately I wanted to shed my fur coat as the heat of bodies pressing against the dark cement walls of the speakeasy threatened to strangle me. We stood on a balcony looking out over a dance floor littered with oliver twi...