‘That was grand,’ he said finally, reaching out and taking her hand. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me; that butcher of yours did you proud. It’s better than we could afford. Plenty of meat and it wasn’t even spoiled. There’ll be enough for tomorrow, too. What did you do for him, anyway?’
‘Just showed him how his apprentice was stealing from him. Nothing much.’
Lizzie glanced over at the sleeping baby. ‘We could have an early night ourselves,’ she said coyly, her fingers twining in his.
‘We could,’ he agreed.
‘Then you’d better get up those stairs sharpish, John Sedgwick, and make sure you’re quiet so the little one doesn’t wake.’
Twelve
There was no more than a band of pale light on the horizon when the Constable walked up Kirkgate but already the day felt oppressive. The thick clouds in the sky seemed weighted and full, the air heavy. He could feel sweat in his armpits, and his hair was damp when he ran his hand through it.
Lister had the window open wide, but there was no breeze to flow and cool the place. Rob’s jacket hung on a nail, his long waistcoat unbuttoned and the sleeves of his shirt pushed up.
‘Morning, boss,’ he said. ‘It’s close out already.’
‘If it keeps up like this, tempers are going to flare sooner rather than later. People don’t take the heat well here.’ Nottingham poured himself a mug of small ale and drank it down quickly. ‘Anything worth knowing about? Did putting the man on the yard of the Talbot help?’
Lister sat back and laughed.
‘As soon as it was dark Walton climbed down the kitchen roof and was off down the back way. Johnson was on him. He said the only time he’s seen anyone move faster was when a husband’s come back without warning.’
Nottingham grinned with satisfaction. ‘Where did he go?’
‘A place off Currie Entry. There’s a small court there.’
‘I know it. About as wide as your arm to get in, then just a few houses back there. Was Johnson able to see which one he went into?’
Rob nodded. ‘He did a good job. Walton stayed there almost half an hour by the church clock, he said, then went back and climbed up to his room. Johnson found me and showed me where Walton had gone.’
‘Good. I think we’d better take a look at this place. Somehow I doubt our thief taker was just visiting an accommodating widow.’
The Constable carefully avoided the other subject that hung between them. He’d talked to Mary the night before, waiting until Emily had gone to her room to work after arriving home in a flustered, sour mood. They’d discussed it in low voices, Mary’s anger at Rob’s father brittle and bitter, his own sadder, tempered by experience. But finally he’d convinced her that there was nothing they could do. Everything depended on the decisions Rob made. He’d put no pressure on the lad. He wouldn’t even hold it against him if he caved in to his father. The lad needed time to make up his mind fairly.
By the time Sedgwick arrived, yawning and stretching so his fingertips almost touched the ceiling of the room, Nottingham knew what he wanted to do about Walton.
‘The three of us are going in together,’ he told them. ‘If we do it soon they’ll still be asleep. Look for anything of worth. Those houses are poor, so it’ll stand out. John, you watch whoever’s in there while Rob and I search.’ He opened the cupboard and took out three swords. ‘Let’s hope we don’t need them.’
Full light had arrived as they left the jail, the clouds low in pale shades of grey. They entered the court one at a time, the Constable in the lead, alert for any noise, treading carefully on the packed down dirt.
The house was old, the wood of the frame rotting and sagging so the windows couldn’t close. It only took a single kick to push the door back, and they walked in, weapons drawn.
The couple was asleep. They sat up as Nottingham entered the room, the man with one foot already on the floor, the woman pulling the sheet up to cover herself.
‘Stay there,’ he ordered. ‘What’s your name?’
The man stayed silent. He was older, the hair on his head thin and a dirty, greasy grey, with more sprouting heavily from his nostrils and ears. The bed was straw resting on planking, roughly covered with a sheet.
‘I’m the Constable. What’s your name?’ he repeated.
‘Matthew.’ The man’s voice had the rough edge of someone who drank too much, too often. He coughed and spat into a bowl on the floor.
‘John,’ Nottingham called, ‘come and watch these two while I look around.’
‘No need, boss. They have everything out. You’d think they were running a shop here.’
The Constable waved his sword. ‘Up, the pair of you, and get dressed. You’re either thieves or fences, and either one will get you both hanged.’ Neither of them moved. ‘Come on.’
Slowly they stood. The woman was of an age with the man; she turned her back to hide her thick body under her shift. He waited until they were clothed then looked through into the other room.
Sedgwick had piled items on the table, good plate, jewellery, some lace and coins.
‘They’ve been busy, boss. The hangman will love them.’
The Constable could see the fear in their eyes, the dread of death coming so soon.
‘What’s your surname, Matthew?’
‘Trill.’ The man coughed again, took a dirty kerchief from the pocket of his coat and spat.
‘And how did all this end up here? Don’t give me any stories, either,’ he warned.
The man glanced at his wife and took her hand in a small gesture of comfort. Tears were tumbling down her cheeks and she pawed at them.
‘Well?’ Nottingham asked, his patience running thin.
‘We keep them here for someone,’ Trill said, his voice flat.
‘Who?’
‘He says his name’s Walton. He pays us.’
‘How did you meet him?’ the Constable asked.
‘I was in the Talbot and we started talking. He asked if I wanted to make some money.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘A few days,’ Trill replied morosely.
‘And what did he want you to do?’
‘Just hold all that for him,’ the man said. ‘He told me it was all above board.’
‘And you didn’t ask any questions?’
The man shrugged and coughed again. ‘It was money.’
‘It’s not any more,’ the Constable told him. ‘Was he here last night?’
‘Yes.’
‘And when will he be back again?’
The couple looked at each other.
‘Tonight,’ the man said finally. ‘He’ll be coming to collect some things to take back to their owner.’
‘What time?’
‘Once it’s dark,’ the woman answered sadly. ‘I told you,’ she said to the man, and he simply shook his head, looking straight ahead.
Nottingham was silent, leaving them to think, letting their imaginations feel the rope tightening around their necks.
‘I’m going to make you an offer, Mr Trill,’ he said finally. ‘You can have your lives if you help us get Walton.’
He saw the woman’s hand clutch tightly at the man’s fingers.
‘How?’ Trill asked, hope in his voice.
‘All you have to do is be here when he comes. I’ll have someone hidden in your other room, and men outside.’
‘What else?’
‘Just do what you would. Then we’ll take him.’
Trill nodded his agreement wearily.
‘Do that and you’ll escape the noose,’ the Constable told him. ‘Don’t try and send word to warn him.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ the man answered, his voice low and hoarse. ‘Let the bugger come. As long as you save us.’
‘I will,’ Nottingham promised. ‘If you do what you’re told.’
‘Aye,’ Trill said with a sigh.