Fair and Tender Ladies (24 page)

It was the same across the river, down along the dusty streets. Someone had possibly known her but she couldn't be sure. It wasn't enough. By dusk his throat was raw from talking and he slipped into an alehouse. Just one drink before going home.

He sat in the corner and listened to all the chatter around him. Names and faces he didn't know. John would have recognized some of them, started a conversation and learned something. He couldn't. He didn't have the gift for it and he probably never would. The boss might have named him deputy but a title didn't make the man.

As he was leaving, a man at one of the tables grabbed his arm.

‘You the Constable's man?'

‘I am.'

‘That lad of yours who got himself killed. I knew him when he were small.' He was older, with a red, hearty face and eyes that seemed to smile. ‘Allus in trouble, he were. Little things, like. Heard he'd got himself a woman and bairns.'

‘Two of them. One's just a baby.'

The man shook his head. ‘That's bad. He looked after folk, did Mr Sedgwick. Find a boy doing summat he shouldn't, give them a quick clout and that were it. Someone hitting his wife, a word and a threat and it'd be reet as rain.' He took a sip from the mug. ‘You could do worse than be like him.'

‘I know,' Rob said. ‘Believe me, I know.'

The long shadows were forming as the Constable walked up Lands Lane. The day had been too long, too hot for early summer, but still not enough hours in the day and too little achieved.

He knocked lightly on the wood, looking down at James as he opened the door, his small face grave.

‘Hello, sir,' he said.

‘Hello, James. Is your mam here?'

‘Come in, Mr Nottingham,' Lizzie called from inside. ‘Don't be keeping him on the step, James.'

The shutters were closed to help cool the house, leaving the kitchen dim. Sorrow filled every corner of the room, so strong he believed he could wrap his fingers around it. Lizzie sat on the bench, a plate in front of her, the food untouched. Isabell was asleep in her arms.

‘Don't you still have some sums to do, James?' she asked.

‘Yes, ma.'

‘You go upstairs and finish them while I talk to Mr Nottingham.' She waited as the boy slowly climbed the stairs then looked at him. ‘I don't know if he really understands John won't ever be back.'

‘How are you managing?'

She shrugged, a small gesture that said everything. ‘I cry a lot. How did you feel after Mary died?'

‘Lost,' he answered after a while. ‘Hopeless. I still do.'

‘I want him back,' she said and he didn't know how to reply. ‘Do you even know why it happened?'

‘No.'

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and tried to smile. ‘Look at me, I'm crying again. He was the first decent man I'd known. The first who didn't …' The words trailed away and she shook her head. ‘The only one I ever loved.'

‘He loved you, too,' the Constable told her.

‘Aye, I know that.' She fixed her gaze on him. ‘You arranged all that, didn't you? The subscription, and the city paying the rent.' Nottingham said nothing. ‘I know you did. None of them would have cared otherwise. I'm grateful, really I am. We all are.'

‘It's the very least they could do.'

‘I'll bet they didn't think of it themselves, though. He loved that job, you know. He was so proud to be your deputy.'

Nottingham reached across the table and put his hand over hers. ‘I couldn't have asked for anyone better. And he was a friend. A loyal one.'

‘Make a friend of John and he'd never let you down.' The tears began again. ‘I miss him. Every time I breathe. Every time I hear something and turn around and it's not him.'

‘I know,' he said softly.

‘Does it get better?'

Better? He wondered at the word. ‘You learn to live with it. To get by.'

‘Is that how you feel?'

‘Yes.' There was so much more, but she didn't need to hear his troubles; she had enough of her own. ‘If there's anything I can do to help you, just tell me.'

‘You can't bring him back, can you?'

‘I wish I could.'

She glanced down at Isabell. ‘James will remember him. This one won't ever know what he was like. That's all I want, Mr Nottingham. For him to walk through that door with his grin and his appetite and for everything to be the way it was.' She stared at him. ‘Honestly, you've done enough as it is. I've got to learn to do it by myself.'

‘I mean it. If there's anything you need, if you want Lucy to help for a few days …'

‘No.' She shook her head. ‘It's very kind, but we'll … get by.'

The Constable stood. ‘I do want to help.'

‘I know,' Lizzie said. ‘Thank you.'

By the time he reached home it was close to full darkness. Lucy brought him the plate she'd kept warm, sitting across from him at the table.

‘You'd best be careful, that's hot,' she warned. He ate a mouthful and smiled.

‘It's good.'

‘Did you go and see her?'

‘I did,' he answered, noticing the relief on the girl's face that he'd kept his promise.

‘How is she?'

Nottingham chewed slowly, framing his answer. ‘Like I was after Mary died.'

‘I could visit her again,' Lucy offered.

‘Leave her be for now.'

‘Is that what she wants?'

‘I think it's what she needs,' he answered eventually. ‘All we do is remind her.'

She nodded, her mouth tight, waiting to take his dishes back to the kitchen.

‘You helped,' he assured her. ‘She needed someone to look after the children.'

‘I'd have stayed if she'd let me.' Lucy glanced around the room, at Emily, her head over a book and Rob dozing in a chair. ‘Look at you, you're fine here, all of you. Anyone could take care of this house.'

‘No. You're family here,' the Constable told her simply.

‘Am I?'

‘You know you are.'

Finally she gave a quick nod and disappeared into the other room.

N
ottingham woke early, and left the house well before the first band of daylight to walk into town. The night man had left a few scrawled lines: no problems at the school. He wrote up the daily report, hearing Leeds come to life through the open window, the clop of hooves and drag of wheels on the roads, the shouts and laughter of the people.

As the clock struck seven he went over to the Moot Hall. Outside in the Shambles the butchers were hacking at carcasses, blood running in the gutters, dogs barking and howling for meat. Inside everything seemed hushed, as if he'd stepped into another world, separate, richer.

He expected to find Cobb the clerk outside the mayor's office, but it was another man who was working there and greeted him with a sober nod.

‘Good morning, Mr Nottingham.'

‘Good morning.' He put the paper on the desk. He'd seen the man before, he was sure of that, but where? He was older, grey peppered throughout his hair, his face long and deeply serious. The clothes had seen better days but they were clean and presentable; he was washed and freshly shaved. ‘Where's Mr Cobb?'

‘I believe Mayor Fenton decided he'd prefer a different clerk, sir.'

So Cobb had paid the price for passing on the mayor's secrets to the Constable. For a moment he felt guilty. But only for a moment. Without the information he'd never have secured a pension or rent payment for Lizzie.

‘I'm sure he's found a good one. What's your name?

‘Roundell Jenkins, sir.' His face stayed impassive as he answered.

It wasn't familiar. Sooner or later, though, he'd place the man.

Back at the jail he'd scarcely seated himself when a boy ran in, a letter clutched tight in his hand, eyes wide in awe of seeing such a place.

‘What is it, lad?'

‘For the Constable, sir. Came in on the mail a few minutes back.'

He passed the lad a farthing and tore open the seal. It had taken less time than he'd expected; maybe everything moved faster down in London.

Sir,

I trust this finds you in good health. Your request was passed to me but I had no knowledge of Tom Finer, so I needed to ask others who might be familiar with him. He is, as you already suspected, a well-known figure to some in the law, although he has never been convicted of anything.

I endeavoured to make my inquiries on your behalf as extensive as possible, and I have learned that Mr Finer was active both here in the City and in Westminster. He was, I am reliably told, suspected of involvement in at least ten murders over the years, although there was never enough proof to bring him to court. The members of the watch in both areas are certain he sold stolen goods, but again, this was impossible to prove.

In the last several years Mr Finer is known to have invested in property in Covent Garden. There was speculation that he forced his way into some of the deals, and when the buildings were later sold that he amassed a goodly sum of money. According to my information he made many contacts, both in business and government. Some found him to be charming and good company but others have claimed they were afraid of him.

According to those who know, he left London with neither warning nor word to anyone. He simply dismissed the servants who worked for him, had his belongings packed and left, not even saying where he was going. One thing I can tell you is that there was no special investigation under way into him and no one wishes to recall him to the capital for any reason. Without your letter we would have been unaware of his whereabouts.

I wish you well of the man, sir, and hope that this is of assistance to you.

Your Servant,

Joseph Franklin

Assistant Clerk, Central Criminal Court

He read it again, paying as much attention to what was unstated as to the words on the page. Finer had left London with his fortune in his pockets. Just as it had been in Leeds, the authorities knew what he'd done but they'd never managed to catch him for it. Witnesses would have suddenly vanished, payments would have been made and he would never have seen the inside of a jail.

So what had made him leave London so suddenly? There was no mention of someone after him, and Nottingham knew it wasn't simply a rush of desire to spend his declining years quietly in Leeds; the man had already shown his colours in his dealings at the workhouse.

He'd hoped for more, for some reason to send Finer back to London in chains. That wasn't going to happen; as the clerk had gratefully pointed out, the Constable would have to look to the man himself. And there was little in the note that Finer hadn't said himself, either in fact or hints. Suddenly a connection fell into his mind, and he realized he'd seen Roundell Jenkins, the mayor's new clerk, drinking with Finer in the Talbot. So the man has his source in high places now. He'd need to be very careful about what he put in his daily report in future. He glanced at the letter a final time and tossed it aside on the pile before walking out. There was work to be done.

Rob had waited, ready to leave, impatient for Emily to dash down the stairs. As it was, the women were already waiting outside the school when they arrived, and he stood aside for them all to enter once the door was unlocked. Another night without damage.

He began to stroll up Briggate, then broke into a run as he heard the shouts of an argument, a man and a woman at the entrance to one of the courts. By the time he arrived, the man had his fist raised, ready to hit her a second time, his face flushed and twisted with anger. Lister pinned him against the wall, the cudgel ready in his hand.

‘She told me it were free,' the man protested.

He knew the girl. Kate. She'd been a servant once, then let go when she couldn't hide the bulge of a baby any longer. Since then she'd been a whore, scraping by, never giving any trouble. She had a hand to her cheek, trying to cover the red mark where she'd been struck, tears in her eyes.

‘He's a lying bastard, Mr Lister.' She spat at the man's feet. ‘I told him a penny ha'penny and he said yes.'

Rob turned to the man, tightening his hold on the collar. ‘Well?'

The man glared, then finally nodded, deflating, the fury still in his eyes.

‘Then you can give her tuppence.'

‘But—'

‘The extra's for hitting her,' Rob said, raising the cudgel so the man could see it. ‘Turn out your pockets.'

He waited as the man obeyed, spilling coins on the ground.

‘Take your money,' Lister told the girl, and she scrambled around, picking up two coins then vanishing. ‘And you, you'd better cause no more trouble.'

‘For not paying a slut?' the man asked incredulously.

Rob pushed his face close enough to smell the fear on the man's breath.

‘You'd better be glad you didn't end up in the jail.' He let go and watched the man slump.

Rob had barely gone ten yards along Briggate before Kate was at his side.

‘Thank you, Mr Lister,' she said. ‘I thought he were going to hurt me.'

He caught sight of her face; the mark was spreading. ‘It looks as if he already did.'

She shrugged. ‘I've had worse. There's some right buggers out there. At least he didn't break anything.'

‘You need to watch yourself.'

‘I will,' she promised. He expected her to leave. Instead she stood there, looking at him. ‘It's terrible what happened to Mr Sedgwick.'

‘Yes,' he agreed grimly.

‘I feel sorry for his Lizzie with those bairns. He were allus good to us out here, allus fair.'

‘I'll try to be the same.'

‘Nay, I'm not saying you wouldn't.' She smiled and touched his arm lightly. ‘That body you found. The one buried past Upper Tenters.'