‘Who killed her?’
‘I don’t know. If I did, I’d tell you.’ She stared at him. ‘There’s too much death around.’
‘I know,’ Nottingham agreed. ‘I know.’
Nottingham could feel the prickle at the back of his neck. Someone was following him. He could feel it. But every time he turned there was nothing. His hand rested on the hilt of the cutlass.
All he could hear were his own footsteps echoing off the buildings as he walked down Briggate, but he was certain. Just before the bridge he ducked into the passageway where Jane had died, pressing himself against the wall and drawing his sword.
Hidden in the darkness, he held his breath.
There, at the edge of his sight, a flash of white.
Nottingham brought the blade down. He felt it graze flesh. And then a woman’s scream.
SIXTEEN
She had a hand clamped over the arm, but the blood ran through her fingers. The screaming had stopped as soon as she saw light glinting off the cutlass. Now she was shaking and shivering as if she was about to faint.
Kate. She looked small and frail, bruises blooming on her face.
‘Where is he?’
‘You’ve got to help me. He tried to kill me.’ She raised her head so he could see the marks on her neck. Blood still dripped down her arm.
‘Empty your pocket.’ He kept the tip of the sword close to her neck. Maybe she was telling the truth; he wasn’t about to trust her.
Her hand moved slowly. A knife clattered to the ground, a couple of coins.
‘Is that all?’
‘Yes.’
‘Walk ahead of me. And don’t try to run.’
‘I’m still bleeding,’ she told him.
‘Then you’ll bleed until we get to the jail.’
He glanced around, stooped, and collected the penknife. No sign of Nick. He wasn’t about to believe a word she said until he had her safe in a cell.
The constable locked the manacles around her tiny wrists and ankles, the iron so heavy it weighed her down. He found a strip of linen and bound her arm.
‘Where’s Nick?’
‘Can I have something to drink?’
In the lantern light he could see her properly. Her fair hair was dirty and matted. She’d taken a battering, one eye already swelling and turning black, fingermarks bright red on her throat.
‘Once you tell me where he is.’
A scheming look came into her eyes. ‘If I tell you, will you let me go?’
‘If you don’t tell me, you’ll hang.’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘We were up on that big hill above the river, off to the east.’ Cavalier Hill. ‘He’ll have gone by now.’
He probably had, but he’d send the men up there at first light. The constable gave her a mug of ale. With the weight of the chains she could barely raise it to her mouth.
‘Tell me about Nick.’
It came slowly, little fragments of memory that she stitched together. She’d met him a few months before in Doncaster. Her parents were dead, the pair of them lost in a fire. She found a group of children. Nick had been with them, there but always apart. He taught her to pick pockets while he cut purses. Soon the night watch was looking for them and it was safer to take to the roads. They went to Barnsley, to Sheffield, then drifted north.
‘Leeds is rich,’ she said. ‘Nick said we’d do well here.’
‘When did he start wanting to hurt people?’
‘He’s always been like that.’ She stared down into the mug, swirling the liquid gently. ‘It was the other children at first. He’d hit them and torture them until they screamed. He hit me too, if I made him angry.’ She lifted her head, ‘But he always said sorry to me after. I used to be able to calm him down.’
‘Not now?’
‘No.’ She spoke the word sadly. ‘It would always pass.’ Kate looked at him. ‘Like a storm. Blow itself out. Now it’s there all the time. When he started beating me tonight I didn’t think he was going to stop until he killed me. That’s why I ran.’
He could hear her sorrow. No, more than that, he thought: loss. She’d relied on him. Loved him, if she even knew what love was.
‘What are you going to do?’ Kate asked.
‘I’m going to find him and arrest him for murder.’
‘You’ll have to kill him.’ She sounded empty, hollow.
‘If I have to, I will.’
‘What about me?’
She’d put the boy before herself, he noticed.
‘You’ll go to the Assizes.’
‘Will they hang me?’
‘You didn’t kill anyone. Probably seven years’ transportation.’
The girl didn’t say anything, just finished her ale and held out the mug. As Nottingham closed the cell door she asked, ‘What if I help you catch him?’
‘It might make a difference.’
He waited for more but she stayed silent.
‘But you got her, boss,’ Rob said.
The constable stared into the fire. He was weary, ready for his bed and wishing he could sleep for a year.
‘I didn’t do anything. She gave herself up. She’s terrified of Nick.’
‘It sounds as if she cares about him, too, doesn’t it, Papa?’ Emily said sadly.
‘More than she realizes.’ He didn’t want to talk about the girl any longer. Even if she hadn’t killed anyone she was still a part of it all, the robberies, the woundings, the killing, as guilty as Nick. And they were both alive. It was Tom Williamson who was going to be buried for doing his civic duty. He needed something brighter to finish the day.
‘Have you seen the baby again?’
‘I went this afternoon,’ Emily told him. ‘You need to see her, Papa. She’s beautiful. And Annie came to school for the first time this morning.’
Nottingham glanced towards the kitchen. The door was closed.
‘How did she do?’
‘A bit lost,’ she answered with a smile. ‘But she’s already made one friend there. That’s a start. She needs to learn to be a girl again. She’s forgotten.’
Nick had gone. Lister stood at the top of Cavalier Hill, staring down at the valley. He’d brought all the day men and spread them out as they climbed the slope carrying broad branches and sweeping through the bushes.
He’d found the remains of the camp, the ashes of the fire cold. Nick probably left as soon as he realized that this time the girl wouldn’t return. And on his own, the boy was going to be even more unpredictable and dangerous.
He kicked a stone and watched it roll downhill, gathering speed until it caught in a thick tuft of grass. It felt like the story of his life.
‘Kate’s offered to help us catch him,’ the constable said when Lister returned.
‘Do you believe her?’
Nottingham rubbed his chin. He’d taken off the bandage; the cut on his palm was healing.
‘I think I do,’ he replied after a moment. ‘She’s too scared of him now.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And we don’t have anything to lose, do we?’
Rob had glanced through the door of the cell at the start of the morning. The girl was asleep, her legs pulled up. She looked so young, so innocent, it was hard to imagine she’d done so much. But she’d pay for it.
‘How? We’ll need to lure him out. And we have to make sure she doesn’t run.’
‘I haven’t decided yet.’ He let out a long breath. ‘Oh, I forgot. I was talking to one of the whores last night. The girl we fished out of the river was called Grace.’
Lister grunted. What did a name matter? She was dead and buried. Knowing her name wasn’t going to bring her back.
‘She was from Ossett.’ Nottingham tapped a piece of paper on his desk. ‘I’ve written to the people there. They’ll probably know her family.’
‘You know that won’t help us catch her killer.’
‘No,’ the constable agreed quietly. ‘But what if fourteen or fifteen years from now, that little girl you and E
mily are taking in decides to run off? Do you think you’d ever have a peaceful night until you knew what happened to her? Even if it’s bad news?’
Rob could feel the shame creeping up his face. He turned away, staring out of the window.
‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to thinking like a father. And believe me, daughters are the hardest of all.’
‘Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Taking her in.’
‘That’s for the two of you to decide,’ Nottingham answered slowly.
Tom Williamson’s funeral would take place the next day, as soon as the cloth market was over. A few more days and merchants would probably start making their offers for his business. Generous ones, he hoped; the firm was doing well.
And Tom would have his place in the graveyard, along with so many others who’d been friends, who’d been loved. Nottingham had been too busy to visit since he started back in the job; it was always dark on his way to and from work.
He owed his family some time.
One by one, he cleared the fallen leaves from Mary and Rose’s graves. The grass was thick, the earth dark and heavy under his feet. It was odd, the sense of peace that he felt standing with them. For a moment or two all the cares could slip away. He could imagine them as they’d once been.
In his mind he could hear Mary’s voice, her sadness at Williamson’s murder, the joy of knowing they’d have a granddaughter. Five, ten minutes, that was all he needed to be able to leave with a sense of contentment.
But he still didn’t know how they’d trap Nick. The men were out looking, but it was too easy for one boy to hide in a town of seven thousand people. Like trying to find a twig in a forest.
Nottingham stopped for a moment at the lych gate then headed away from Leeds, over Timble Bridge and up Marsh Lane. The day was quiet here, the town and all its noise behind him. As he opened the door of the house he heard the clang of a metal pot in the kitchen.
‘Where’s Annie?’ he called out.
‘Still at Miss Emily’s school,’ Lucy told him as she bustled through. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? It’s the middle of the day.’ She folded her arms and stared at him. ‘They haven’t got rid of you, have they?’
‘You should be so lucky. I just wanted to ask her a question.’
‘She’ll probably be here soon. I can find you—’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll go and look for her.’
The girl was dawdling. He spotted her on the Calls, moving from one shop window to the next and staring at everything for sale.
‘You won’t be home until evening at this rate,’ he said and she turned, mouth wide in surprise.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Annie said. ‘They just …’
‘I know,’ he agreed with a smile.
‘It won’t happen again.’ Her face was bright red.
‘A few minutes here or there don’t matter. But there’s something I need to ask you. Did Nick have a particular place he liked to go? A camp?’
He’d asked Kate the same thing that morning, but she only shook her head. At the time he believed her. Now he wondered if she was trying to protect the boy, to keep him free. He’d seen it often enough before, the way beaten wives would justify what their husbands had done.
‘I don’t think so,’ Annie said after a little while. ‘We kept as far away from them as we could in case he got in a temper.’ She looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’
He’d never held out much hope. But apart from Kate, she was the only one who might know.
‘It’s fine,’ he told her.
‘There was one thing I remember,’ she began as he started to turn away.
‘What’s that?’
‘He talked about the den once and she started giggling. It was late and they thought we were all asleep. I might not have heard it right.’ She blushed again.
‘That’s good. Take your time going home. I’m sure Lucy won’t mind.’
‘The den,’ he said. Kate stirred and look up at him. She’d been lying on the bench, eyes open and staring at nothing.
‘What?’
‘Where is it?’
‘I’ve never heard of it.’
‘Don’t lie to me.’
‘Who told you about it?’
Nottingham ignored her question. ‘Where is it?’
She shook her head. ‘You’ll never find it on your own. It’s off that road that goes north.’
‘Then you’ll come with us. In chains.’
‘I can’t walk in them,’ Kate said. ‘Please.’
She’d learned to lie, but not quite well enough yet.
‘You’ll manage.’
SEVENTEEN
Kate made a good show of struggling, taking her time over each pace, head bowed, body looking like it was weighed down. People stopped to stare as they passed, the girl in front with the constable, Lister and three of the men behind her.
Let her make a meal of it, Nottingham thought. As long as he found Nick, he didn’t care. The cutlass slapped lightly against his leg.
Kate led the way past Town End, beyond a few straggling cottages, then stopped.
‘Along there.’ She tried to raise a hand to show the track.
‘You lead,’ the constable told her. ‘And no shouting to warn him.’ He nodded at the men; they drew their weapons.
It was a good half mile, from one path to another and a third, until they were deep in the woods.
‘There’s a clearing a little way on. That’s what we called the den. We’d go there sometimes.’
It was definitely out of the way, Nottingham thought. No one would be likely to find it.
‘Stay with her,’ he said to Dyer. ‘Make sure she doesn’t shout.’
‘What if she tries, boss?’
He stared at the girl. ‘Then stop her.’
The constable walked ahead of the men. The grey day was dying, the air damp against his face. He listened for any sound, but all he could hear were soft footsteps behind him.
It was exactly as she said. He made out the small open space ahead and a shelter of branches. Safe enough, all the way out here. He gestured for the men to spread out. If Nick was here, he wasn’t going to give the boy a chance to escape.
He stepped into the open. A twig snapped under his boot, the sound loud and sharp. Another step, then a third. Still no movement in the shelter. The sword felt heavy in his hand; he gripped it tighter. Nottingham waited, ready. He began to count, one, two, going all the way to twenty before he kicked at the branches.
They fell apart, toppling one on the other. No one inside.
He picked the pieces away. In the back corner the found a small pile of empty purses, strings dangling and a reticule. Nothing to indicate when Nick had been here last. No traces of a recent fire.
‘No luck,’ he told the men. ‘I want all of you searching round here for him.’
‘What about the girl?’ Rob asked.
‘Put her back in the cells.’
They marched away, muttering and grumbling as they moved. The constable stayed, standing and listening. The boy could be close and he’d never know. Finally he followed the thin track back towards the Newcastle road. He’d gambled; this time he’d lost. But it wasn’t over yet.
‘What do we do now, boss?’ Rob asked. He’d waited at the end of the track, leaving Dyer to return Kate to the jail.
‘I’m open to suggestions,’ Nottingham said. He slid the cutlass back into its scabbard. ‘We’re chasing him.’
‘What else is there?’
‘That’s the problem. He has the upper hand. But I don’t know a way around that yet.’
Leeds was filled with people. As he approached the market cross he could hear the lowing and screams from down in the Shambles, cattle brought for the slaughter, the squeal of a pig as its throat was cut. Blood would be flowing down Briggate and the packs of dogs would be gathering.
Old Jem sat by the cross, resting on his p
ack. He looked up and grinned.
‘That’s why I moved up here. Can’t hear yourself think down by there. Too noisy to draw a crowd.’ He gave a small, soft laugh. ‘Not that I’m having better luck up here.’
‘One of those days. For both of us.’ He explained, Jem nodding as he listened.
‘I saw them taking that lass back in chains. I’ve seen the pair of them a few times. That boy, he has the look of the devil about him. His eyes are empty.’
‘He killed Alderman Williamson. If you spot him again, I need to know.’
‘Aye, I’ll do that, right enough. He needs putting down, that one. Some people are just born bad to the soul, Mr Nottingham.’
‘Thankfully only a few.’ He clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder and walked away. He smiled as Jem raised his voice and began a tale in his usual way:
‘It weren’t in my time, or your time, or the time of anyone alive today or yesterday …’
Rob was waiting on the Calls as Emily locked the door of the school and slipped the key into the pocket of her dress.
‘Ready?’ she asked and he nodded.
The baby was squalling and fractious, hitting out at him with tiny limbs as he tried to pick her up. How could anything so small be so loud, he wondered.
‘She’s not hungry,’ Mrs Webb told him. ‘She’s not long off the teat, and I winded her. Does she need changing?’
He looked helplessly at Emily, who took the girl and checked her clout.
‘Yes.’
She was clumsy at first, but surer than he’d ever be, he was certain of that, and soon the girl was happy again. Mary; he had to start thinking of her as Mary. He stared at the baby, the round, pudgy face and curious eyes, and tried to imagine how she’d look as she grew.
Rob stayed for a few minutes, holding the girl again and feeling her warmth as he cradled her. She fell asleep and he passed her to Emily, then left. There was too much work to take more than a few minutes away.
Kate was in her cell, sitting with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up.
‘You must know where he is.’
‘I don’t,’ she replied. Her voice was as dull and empty as her face.
‘Help us and it’ll go better for you,’ Rob told her.
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