Tyballis made no attempt to escape, but she quickly loosened the leather strings at her belt. She had brought a full florin to market in addition to the several pennies’ change from her previous purchases, and this hoard was still untouched. Should it be found on her, how she came into such wealth would arouse serious suspicion. Its ties surreptitiously released, the heavy purse fell to the cobbles. Someone else might profit at least, which certainly was preferable to adding accusations of theft to her supposed list of crimes.
But she was too late. The money jangled as it hit the street. ‘What’s that?’ yelled a stall keeper. ‘The wench has throwed something.’
Amid a scrabble of other fingers, Robert Webb bent and retrieved it. ‘A fine full purse this is, mistress, for the likes of you.’
Tyballis sighed. ‘It’s not mine. It was given to me. I was – shopping for someone else.’
‘And who’d that be, then, since you don’t know nobody?’ demanded Margery Blessop, pushing forwards. ‘Lest it’s whoring has brought in a sight more than you’re worth. It’s more likely stolen.’
‘Tell us who give it to you, my girl,’ nodded Webb. ‘Don’t be frightened, now.’
Tyballis shook her head. She hesitated, remembering the small cavalcade of mounted men, their sumptuous clothes and their golden collars. Then she said, ‘No one. I can’t and won’t give his name. Accuse me of stealing, if you like. Since it seems I’ve been accused of murder, a little larceny is hardly going to make much difference.’
Chapter Sixteen
She sat very straight, feet together, hands clasped in her lap, and stared meekly down at her toes. Assistant Constable Webb stood solid behind her, and facing her across the table was Sheriff Wharton. The sheriff said, ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, girl. There’s no rhyme nor reason in denying it anymore. I’ve my dinner waiting and getting cold, with my wife expecting me an hour back. Own up to it and let’s be done.’
‘I’m hungry, too,’ muttered Tyballis.
Assistant Constable Webb cleared his throat and looked with caution at his superior. ‘I could go get us all a bite to eat from the Ordinary, if you’d allow it, Mister Sheriff.’
‘Certainly not,’ sniffed the sheriff. ‘This is no charity hospice. The girl must confess, it’s as simple as that. Then we can all get back to our own homes.’
‘Except me, of course,’ said Tyballis, looking up. ‘Where are you planning on throwing me? Newgate?’
Robert Webb leaned over her shoulder and spoke with some sympathy. ‘It’s his lordship himself has laid charges, mistress. There’s no way it can be ignored, you know. But maybe, if you’d admit to some part at least, with mitigating circumstances perhaps, then maybe we could keep you here for a while rather than Newgate and the shackles. At least until the trial.’
‘Mister Webb,’ the sheriff interrupted with severity, ‘has been pleading your case with me all morning, ungrateful girl. I’ve agreed, if you’re cooperative, to keep you out of Newgate for the time being.’
‘We all knows what goes on in Newgate,’ mumbled the assistant constable. ‘’Specially to young women. It’s a lot easier here in Bread Street, and I could keep an eye out for you whenever I can. You know what it’s like since you’ve visited your wretched husband here often enough in the past.’
‘I would appreciate it.’ Her back ached and she could no longer sit straight. ‘But how can I confess to something I didn’t do? It would mean – I think it would mean – hanging within the fortnight. Do you expect me to sign my own death warrant?’
The sheriff frowned. ‘With the Constable of the Ward absent, you have the advantage of the assistant constable’s existing acquaintance. But don’t force my patience, foolish girl. I have other business to attend to today, so tell us the truth, and be done with it.’
‘I have already, sir.’ Tyballis shook her head. ‘I’ve admitted I was out very late that night. I ran away, you see – from my husband. He was beating me. But I never saw his lordship, neither alive nor dead. I was acquainted with the baron, of course, since my husband worked for him. But that night I saw nobody. I got home very late and I slept downstairs by the hearth. Then Constable Webb came for Borin in the morning.’
‘So, why implicate your poor husband, then?’ demanded Sheriff Wharton. ‘Since you knew quite well he was innocent? It’s a small wonder the poor man beats you. A vindictive trollop it seems you are, my girl.’
The shaking of her head became a little wild. ‘I didn’t implicate him. I only said I couldn’t swear to where he was all night, which was true because I never went to his bed. But I thought he was innocent, too. Borin never liked blood. He used to faint away at the sight of it, both his own and other people’s, too.’
The sheriff leaned across the battered table. ‘But there’s more to this business than you’re letting on, isn’t there? It’s your own mother-in-law has given information as to your usual habits, and nasty sordid habits they are too, mistress. And what about this cloak you came home with, then? His lordship’s own velvet cloak, identified by the new baron himself. How did you get that, then? Are you trying to say it was pure coincidence you being out the same night his lordship was murdered almost on your doorstep? And you wearing his bloodstained cloak about your miserable shoulders!’
Tyballis stared at him. ‘I don’t understand. There isn’t a coincidence because one thing has nothing to do with the other. And I’ve never seen his lordship’s bloodstained cloak. I wasn’t wearing any such thing.’
‘More lies,’ sighed the sheriff. ‘Seems there’s no point talking to this trollop, Webb. It’s simply a waste of time and my dinner’s ruined already. Throw the wench into Newgate.’
‘By your leave, sir,’ said the assistant constable, one hand heavy on her shoulder, ‘you let me keep her here and I’ll watch her close and get the answers we need over time. Begging your pardon, sir, but I’ve knowed her a long time and she’s a good girl. We both knows what’ll happen if we chucks her in Newgate’s Limboes. Savage buggers they are in there, and they’ll have her soon as the key turns.’
The sheriff rubbed his nose. ‘Maybe. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, Webb, you must convince the girl to confess.’
‘And,’ the assistant constable saw his advantage, ‘she has the coin on her and can easy pay for the Female Ward upstairs. We could make a right good profit.’
But the sheriff was also conscious of his superiors, and the officious nobleman who had demanded the arrest. ‘Can’t do that, Webb,’ he said regretfully. ‘That money’s surely stolen, and already claimed as rights by his lordship the new baron as says it’s his, and Margery Blessop in the husband’s name both. I might allow the wench to stay here in the Bread Street Gaol, but it’ll be the communal Tuppenny downstairs, and no special privileges.’
Feet moved for her, a shuffle of bodies and space made. Someone was moaning faintly, someone else crying. She was led slowly from the steps into the small squash and the rank stench of sweat. ‘Sit here,’ Assistant Constable Webb said in her ear, then turned to the space through which she had stumbled. ‘You’ll leave her alone, all you buggers, d’you hear?’
An incoherent mumbling answered, but someone said, ‘It’s a pretty lass. Is that our supper you’ve brung us then, constable?’
‘You touch her, and I’ll have your hide for my new hat,’ barked Robert Webb. ‘She’ll not be here long, and when I comes to get her, I wants to see her look the same as she does now, and no worse. She tells me anyone of you bastards has had his grubby hands up her skirts, there’ll be beatings all round, mark my words.’ Robert Webb patted her shoulder and left.