‘One of them tried to leave.’
‘Is that the one your brother buried?’
‘Yes.’ She whispered the word. Now he knew who’d been responsible for that death.
‘What about the other one?’
‘He put her in the river so it would look like she’d drowned.’
Jenny Carter. It hadn’t been suicide after all. He closed his eyes for a moment then said, ‘Who has your brother murdered? Peach well enough and it could save your neck.’ He poured her a cup of ale. She held it awkwardly, hands shaking.
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘Are you certain, Miss Wade?’
‘I’m sorry.’ He’d seen the fear in her eyes and the way her hands began to shake when he’d mentioned Mark Wade. She was terrified of him.
‘Where would your mother and Sarah go?’ He kept his voice gentle, trying to calm her. ‘They’re leaving you to hang. That’s not showing you love, is it?’
She shook her head. He was willing to believe that she truly didn’t know.
Rob hurriedly searched the brothel, taking the money from the strongbox and a ledger from the desk; that way no one else could steal them. Then he unlocked the four whores from their rooms, each of them frightened and bewildered. He sat them in the parlour and waited until their eager voices dropped to silence.
He doubted that any of them were older than Emily. It didn’t take long to hear their stories, each one much the same. In return for Mrs Wade providing board, lodging and good new clothes worth five pounds – a handsome sum – they’d agreed to work for her until their debt was paid. They’d all made their marks on a contract. But as soon as they wondered what they owed, asked for an accounting and talked of leaving, the woman had threatened them with the law and debtor’s prison. They hadn’t been allowed out of the house, not even into the yard. Slaves, he thought, that’s all they were.
Jenny Carter had been there, the girls told him, but only for a few days. Just after the place opened she’d disappeared. Mrs Wade claimed she’d been allowed to leave because she didn’t like the life. It let them hope that she might let them go, too. Then Violet, another girl, had vanished. She’d been unhappy and had talked of escaping. One morning they’d awoken to find she’d gone, and no one was willing to answer their questions.
Every one of them had lived in fear of Mark Wade. He used them when and how he wanted, never caring if he hurt or bruised, taking pleasure in their fear.
One girl rolled up the sleeve of her shift to show the bruises. She was the youngest of them all, her arms and legs like sticks and her face like a child’s, but eyes far older than her years.
‘He did that, mister. Enjoyed it, too.’
‘He’s in jail now. He can’t hurt you again.’
‘What’s going to happen to us?’ Frances, the one who seemed to look after the others, asked.
‘You’re free to go,’ Rob told her.
‘Go where?’ she asked, her eyes hard and opaque. ‘You think we’d be here if we had somewhere else?’
He took out the money he’d hidden in his coat and divided it between them. God knew they’d earned it.
‘That’ll give you a start.’
‘What about the clothes?’ Frances wondered suspiciously.
‘Take them. Take whatever you want.’
He left them to start their new lives. The folk round here would soon strip the place of whatever the girls didn’t carry off. For now he needed to find Mrs Wade and Sarah.
‘No one’s seen them on any of the roads leaving town,’ Nottingham said. Rob had told him what he’d learned. There’d been nothing in the papers or ledger to show any new destination.
‘They’re still in Leeds, then. They’ll probably try to leave once it’s dark.’ Rob glanced out of the window. From the brightness it was still only midday. ‘I put a man on each of the roads. When it’s dark, though, there are so many ways they could escape.’
‘We’d better find them before evening, then.’ Nottingham said, pacing around the room. ‘Rouse the night men. I want everyone out. Put them in twos and give each pair an area to search.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Once you’ve done that, you and I can take the stretch along the river.’
The Constable stood in front of Mark Wade’s cell, watching him through the bars. The man knew he was there, but paid no attention, sitting quietly with a smirk on his face.
‘I’m going to hang you for murder,’ Nottingham announced. Very slowly, the man turned his head.
‘Are you now?’ Wade asked calmly.
‘And for helping in another.’
‘You’d better have your evidence, then.’
‘Don’t you worry about that.’ He smiled.
Anne came out meekly. As they passed the other cell her brother called out, ‘You’d better not tell him anything. You know what’ll happen if you do.’ She tried to stop but the Constable urged her on. ‘You know what I can do,’ Wade shouted.
She was shivering as she sat in the chair.
‘He can’t hurt you,’ Nottingham assured her. ‘I’ll move you to the prison under the Moot Hall until I can send you to Whitby. You’ll be safe there.’ He took the document he’d prepared. ‘Can you read and write?’ She nodded. ‘This is what you told me earlier. If it’s all correct, sign it for me.’
‘Will it save me?’ she asked softly.
‘I can’t promise that,’ he said honestly. ‘But there’s a better chance with it. I’ll send a letter saying you’ve helped. It’ll be up to the magistrate; it could make a difference.’
She looked at the page, dipped the quill in the inkwell and signed. Anne Briggs, he noticed, not Wade.
THIRTY-THREE
Rob heard the Parish Church bell ring eight. They’d been covering the ground since noon and now evening was creeping around, the shadows lengthening, the fierceness gone from the sun as it started to slip away. Emily would have waited a while for him at the school then made her way home. She’d understand; she’d grown up with all this.
There’d been no sign of Mrs Wade or Sarah. He’d gone to the camp and talked to Bessie, and to folk in the warehouses along the Aire. Nothing. But there were so many places to keep out of sight. During the night they could slip away unnoticed through the fields, never to be seen again in Leeds. He’d done all he could: put men on the roads, told everyone he could to watch for the women.
The Constable had said little over the last few hours, locked away in his thoughts. He’d issued a few orders, vanished at times to check on the others only to reappear frowning more than before.
Finally, once it was too dark to see more than a few yards, Nottingham said, ‘That’s enough out here. We’ll go and try around the yards.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Find yourself some food and something to drink first. Come to the jail when you’re done.’
Nottingham sat at his desk, the mug of ale in front of him. He was hungry but he couldn’t eat. John had given him a gift from the grave and he’d been too stupid to use it properly. He simply hadn’t believed the women would run. He’d imagined Mrs Wade would give herself up to justice once he had her daughter. Now he had to make it right.
He heard Mark Wade stirring and walked through to the cell.
‘Can I have some ale and something to eat?’ the man asked. He looked calmer, all the fire gone from his voice.
‘I’ll have the inn next door bring something over for you.’
Wade held up his wrists. ‘And untie me, perhaps?’
‘No,’ the Constable answered bluntly. ‘Not yet.’
By the time Rob returned he was ready to lead the way through the yards and courts that squatted behind the houses of Briggate and the Calls. Some were respectable, homes to artisans, clean and well-kept, while others stood dirty and dank, the air heavy with the stink of decay. He tried doors, shining a lantern inside whenever he found one open, went into corners the sun might not have reached in years, and worke
d his way through to cramped spaces half-remembered from his youth.
Leeds went to sleep around them. They questioned the whores on Briggate whose work filled the dark hours, the girls Rob knew from covering the nights, but none of them had seen a pair of women together.
He sent Rob off to check on the others as he continued to search. The only consolation was that Mrs Wade didn’t know Leeds well; she’d be hard pressed to find her way out without daylight. If God was giving him luck for once, she was still here.
The first fine, pale strands of light appeared on the horizon. He was weary, but not ready to give up yet. He’d push on until he found them, and he’d make sure the men saw him; he couldn’t ask them to do anything he wouldn’t undertake himself.
At the jail he peered in on Mark Wade. The man was asleep, those large hands cradled under his head like a child. Enjoy it, he thought, soon enough you’ll have the rope around your neck.
Rob had settled back in the chair, eyes closed, resting while he could. The Constable sat and pictured Leeds in his head, every street, each nook and cranny, trying to picture the Wades in one of them, hiding. They had no money, they wouldn’t have eaten or drunk anything more than they could scavenge. They wouldn’t have dared sleep for fear of being discovered. This morning, this morning he’d have them.
‘Come on, lad,’ he said finally. ‘You try out along the Calls and the warehouses again. I’ll stay and hear the reports from the men.’
Rob started out on Call Brows. From there he could look down to the water and see if anyone was trying to keep out of sight. He followed the road all the way past the bend in the river, seeing nothing unusual; the only women were the ones who made their living washing clothes in the Aire.
He turned back to make his way along the Calls, ducking briefly back into each of the yards as he passed. They could be anywhere. He had a nagging feeling in his belly that they’d already fled Leeds and all this searching would be fruitless.
He moved along the street, methodical and cautious, then glanced up, worried to see a group of women standing outside Emily’s school with their young daughters, all talking among themselves.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked.
‘It’s still all locked up,’ one of the women told him. ‘That’s not like Miss Emily.’
The shutters were tight, the door closed.
‘She’s probably just late,’ he said with a smile. ‘You know what she’s like.’
The woman kept her hand on the shoulder of a girl and looked at him steadily. ‘No, love, she went in five minute back. I saw her from me window.’
Rob’s stomach lurched.
‘Have you seen two women around here this morning?’ he asked urgently. ‘One of them older and big, the other younger?’ He raised his voice so they’d all take notice. Some just shook their heads, then one, a mousy, timid woman at the back of the group with her hand protectively on her daughter’s head, answered, ‘Aye.’
‘Where were they?’
‘Just up there.’ She pointed at a passage a little further up the street. ‘I went down to t’ pump and saw them.’
‘How long ago was that?’
She shrugged. ‘Quarter of an hour, mebbe.’
‘I saw them go in the school,’ the first woman told him. ‘Right after Miss Emily. I were just coming out over there. Then I heard someone lock the door. That’s why I was wondering.’
Jesus. They had Emily.
He took a deep breath, ready to send someone for the Constable, then his head turned quickly as he heard someone running. He saw Lucy dashing up the street, skirts flying around her ankles.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
She held up a book. ‘Miss Emily left this. She was late, all at sixes and sevens with you not there.’ She looked around at the women. ‘What’s wrong. Where is she?’
‘Go to the jail,’ he told her. ‘Bring Mr Nottingham.’ There was a thud inside the building, something knocked over, a desk or a table. ‘Now!’
The men had returned in dribs and drabs. He’d no doubt that some had stopped on the way to slake their thirst. He’d despatched a few to keep an eye on the roads and sent the others to search in different parts of the city. The last four were with him, Holden and Todd among them, and he was giving them their orders when Lucy pushed the door wide and ran in, her eyes wilder than he’d ever seen them.
‘What is it?’ he asked urgently.
Her words came out in a jumble. ‘She was late to school. Mr Rob is there. There’s noise inside and it’s all locked up.’
Oh Christ, he thought. The Wades had his daughter.
THIRTY-FOUR
The Wades have her. The Wades have her. His footsteps kept the rhythm as he strode along Briggate. Lucy hurried to keep in step beside him, Holden and three more of the men close behind. At the jail he’d taken two swords, then loaded and primed a pair of pistols.
‘What are you going to do?’ Lucy asked.
Without hesitation he replied, ‘I’m going to keep her alive.’
She was all he had left. Mary was dead, Rose was dead. He couldn’t lose Emily. Not now, with marriage and motherhood ahead of her. He picked up his pace. At the corner of the Calls he paused a moment, directing two of the men out along Call Brows to the back of the building. ‘I want you in the yard in case they try to get out that way,’ he said.
At the school he looked at the door and the closed shutters before drawing Rob aside. ‘What do you know?’ he asked.
‘Emily was late. Some of the women saw her arrive. It looks as if Mrs Wade and her daughter were waiting in the entrance to one of the courts. They went in right after her and locked the door. I heard something crash down right before I sent Lucy for you.’
‘Any voices?’
Lister shook his head.
Nottingham needed to think clearly. He handed Rob a sword and one of the pistols. ‘Use it,’ he ordered.
The Constable’s mind was a tangle. ‘Why?’ he wondered. ‘What do they want in there?’
‘Revenge?’ Rob asked.
He didn’t know, but it made as much sense as anything. He’d taken two of her children so she’d take his. He’d left Mrs Wade with nothing, no home, no money, so she was going to take the only thing he valued. Then he understood, as clearly as if someone had whispered it in his ear. The Wades had done the damage to the school. They’d pushed his attention to something he wanted to protect, and away from them. The woman had played him like a fiddler with an old, favourite tune.
‘That crash I heard was just behind the door, boss. They might have set up a barricade.’
‘We need to be in there.’
He had to see that Emily was still alive, to make sure nothing happened to her.
Lister shook his head. ‘We’d have to force our way in. They’d have all the time they needed.’
Nottingham tried to push the freezing fear out of his mind. The woman would want him in there; he was certain of that. She’d want him to see what she had planned. And Mrs Wade was no fool; she’d know there was no escape for her now. She had nothing to lose. He took a deep breath.
‘This is the Constable,’ he shouted, his voice rising easily above the noise on the street as the women talked among themselves. ‘Let me in.’
He exchanged looks with the Rob. Moments passed slowly. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were white, fingernails digging deep into his palms. He hardly dared to breathe. Finally he heard the rasp of something being dragged across the floor. It stopped then began again, a slow, desperate sound.
‘I’m going in with you, boss.’
He hesitated, then nodded. Emily was going to be Rob’s wife, the mother of his child.
‘So am I.’ Lucy had appeared at his side, the small knife in her hand.
‘No,’ he told her.
‘I’m not scared of them.’
‘I know you’re not,’ he said quietly. ‘But Rob and I are going in alone.’ Defiance blazed in her eyes, and
he thought quickly. ‘I need you out here, to organize the women to stop them if they try to come out.’ He turned to the men. ‘You know what to do. Keep everyone back. If you hear anything strange, anything at all, come in.’
They heard the key turn in the lock. He moved forward, pushed down on the handle and slowly opened the door.
The room was dim, a maze of hot shadows. He stood in the doorway, letting his gaze adjust to the gloom until he could make out Emily sitting behind her desk. Her eyes were open, pleading at him, her hands gathered in her lap, fingers clasped tight together. Mrs Wade stood behind her, a knife to the girl’s throat. He picked out Sarah in the corner, her face hidden in the shadow.
‘Just you,’ the woman said. ‘Not him.’
‘He’s courting my daughter,’ the Constable answered, and waited until she gave a brief nod. ‘What do you want?’ he asked. His mouth was dry. He looked at Mrs Wade, seeing the hatred on her face.
‘You know well enough,’ she answered, pulling hard on Emily’s hair. He drew in his breath and clenched his fist as the girl cried out, her head yanked harshly back.
‘Let her go.’ It was part order, part pleading.
‘What are you going to say next?’ The words were a taunt. ‘She’s done nothing?’
‘She hasn’t.’ He could hear the desperation in his voice. ‘You know that. You’re the ones who killed people.’ He glanced across at Sarah, still unmoving in the corner. ‘All of you.’ The Constable paused. ‘Why?’
‘To survive,’ Mrs Wade replied simply. ‘That young man, he came when we opened, and saw his sister. Mark took care of him before he could start a fuss.’
‘The girls? Why did they have to die?’
‘I needed to be rid of Jenny before you began asking too many questions. And the other one tried to leave. I couldn’t allow that.’ She shook her head, no more emotion in her description than a shopkeeper describing damaged stock. ‘I underestimated you, Constable. I thought you’d be as stupid as all the others I’ve seen. You’re persistent.’
‘You like to use poison, don’t you?’
‘So much less violent, and so pleasurable after they realize what they’ve drunk.’ She smiled.
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