Alice snorted. ‘Family honour? He was born before I married his father.’
‘You’ll have to ask him yourself. That’s what I want to do.’
She considered what he’d said for a long moment.
‘I’ll believe you,’ she said finally. ‘If I’m going to tell you the truth I’d not put it past him to do it if he was drunk and angry enough.’
‘Thank you.’
Nineteen
The Constable walked along the riverbank, watching the water for a few minutes, hearing the cries of workers loading cloth on to barges from the warehouses and the creak of carts as they squeezed past each other on the road, carters cursing, horses moving slowly.
He made his way back up Briggate, smiling when he saw the face he’d been seeking at the entrance to a yard.
‘Hello, Jane.’
‘It can’t be good news if you’re looking for me again, Mr Nottingham,’ she said, but there was a small smile on her face. She was wearing gloves to hide her missing finger.
‘I’m looking for someone.’
‘But not me?’ she pouted mischievously.
‘Do you remember I asked you for the name of a pimp?’
‘Aye, Davis or something, wasn’t it?’
‘Davidson,’ he corrected her. ‘He was running the girls, said they were his sisters. One of them was called Fanny. They worked down by the bridge.’
‘Down by the Bridge? New, was she?’
‘Fairly new.’
‘They come and go so fast,’ she shrugged.
‘This one’s stopped, but I know she’s still around. Can you find out if anyone’s seen her and knows where she’s staying? I need to know.’
‘Lovestruck, are you?’ Jane grinned.
‘There’s money in it for you. Good money.’
‘Must be serious.’
‘It is. And I need answers soon. She wears a blue dress and she has dark hair.’
Jane nodded. ‘I’ll ask around, Mr Nottingham.’
‘Bring word to the jail when you find out anything,’ he told her. ‘It’s important.’
Down by the Bridge Con was playing his fiddle. A few stopped to listen for a moment, fewer still put a coin in the hat on the ground, too busy with their own business to pay the music much attention.
‘Constable,’ Con said as he heard Nottingham’s footsteps, turning his sightless eyes to the sound.
‘Morning, Con.’
‘Have you found Mr Sedgwick’s lad yet?’
‘No.’
‘He was by here, you know.’
‘Who?’ The Constable was suddenly alert, feeling the blood pumping. ‘James?’
‘Aye, yesterday, about the middle of the morning.’
‘Was he by himself?’
‘He was, and he had me play a jig for him the way he always does. He dances a bit and it brings in a few coins. We both like it.’ The man smiled.
‘Where did he go after that?’
Con inclined his head. ‘Down the steps to the river there. He was angry when he arrived, but he was feeling better when he left me, Mr Nottingham.’
‘Thank you, Con.’ He drew out three coins from the pocket of his breeches and tossed them into the old hat, smiling broadly. ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard today.’
The fiddler raised his bow and began to play, a quick reel that sounded out across the water. The Constable walked back to the jail with a sense of relief. If James had been seen down by the river it looked as if the child snatcher hadn’t taken him. They still needed to find him alive, but it removed the threat they’d all been dreading. He walked over to the house on Lands Lane and knocked quietly. Within a moment Lizzie was there, her hair unkempt, Isabell on her shoulder crying softly.
‘Have you found him?’ she asked urgently, the panic bright in her eyes.
‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Is John awake?’
‘He’s sleeping a little. What is it?’
‘I’ve some good news. Con the fiddler saw James. They talked and your boy went to play by the river. So it seems as if he’s just taken himself off. We’ll find him.’
Lizzie closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
‘I’ll thank God for that, Mr Nottingham. I’ll wake John and tell him.’
The Constable made his way back to the jail and sent one of the men to find the others and keep them searching along the riverbank. Further this time, though, beyond Dyers’ Garth, out into the countryside beyond Leeds. If James wanted to hide, there were plenty of places out there.
He poured a mug of ale and drank it slowly. Now he knew that the boy hadn’t been taken he felt calmer. They’d find him soon, he felt sure; a little lad might spend one night out in the open, but hunger and the cold would start to weigh upon him soon enough.
Nottingham removed his stock and opened the collar of his shirt. The surge of energy he’d felt when talking to Con was fading and the exhaustion was gradually creeping through his body.
There’d be time for sleep tonight, when he could crawl gratefully into his own bed, close his eyes and rest. With every year that passed he felt the long hours of the job more and more. He’d long since left his youth behind, and these days his body ached when he rose and his hair was almost as much grey as fair.
He could plot the time, count out all the weeks on his fingers, that had brought him here. None of it grew any easier with age, he knew that much. The city had changed around him, growing, booming, the wealth of the merchants becoming greater, their mansion houses like castles built on commerce, while the poor had no choice but to take what they could find.
He must have dozed; the sound of the door creaking open started him and he blinked his eyes.
‘You were sleeping,’ Jane said with a smile.
‘Too many long days and nights,’ he explained, stretching in his chair. ‘Do you have anything for me?’
She frowned. ‘That lass you’re after, she’s still in Leeds, right enough. Some of the girls have seen her and talked to her.’
‘Whereabouts?’
She shook her head. ‘T’other side of the river, that’s all anyone seems to know.’
‘What about her sister and the pimp?’ Nottingham asked.
‘No one said anything about them.’
He took out money, not even looking at its value, and put it on the desk. As ever, her hand moved quickly, hiding the missing finger, as she slipped it away.
‘Thank you,’ he told her. ‘And if you find out anything more. .’
‘This is about the boys, isn’t it?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why would you think that?’
Jane chuckled. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. You’re looking for this Fanny and you want her now. The only reason I can see for that is the deputy’s lad.’ The Constable smiled but said nothing.
‘I’ll keep my ears open,’ she promised. ‘And I’ll say nowt about this.’
‘It’s for the best.’
‘You ought to go home and rest,’ she advised as she stood in the doorway. ‘You look like death, Mr Nottingham.’
Rob was the first to come back, just four hours after he’d left. He’d washed and brushed the worst of the dirt off his coat and breeches to smarten himself up, but his drawn face and the dark patches under his eyes told the truth.
‘Can’t sleep?’ the Constable asked.
‘I’ve just been turning over and over.’ He drank deep from a mug of ale. ‘Any news?’
‘Con the fiddler saw James yesterday morning on the bridge. Said he went down by the river.’
‘So he wasn’t taken?’ Rob brightened.
‘It looks that way,’ Nottingham said with a smile. ‘But we still have to find him.’ He paused and cocked his head. ‘That’s not what’s been keeping you awake, is it?’
‘My father’s still talking about arranging a marriage for me.’
‘You told him no again?’ the Constable asked.
‘More than once,’ Rob said glumly, ‘and he’s not happy with me.’
‘And what about Emily?’
‘She says she doesn’t want to marry anyone,’ he replied.
Nottingham shook his head. ‘That sounds like her, right enough. She has her own ideas about things, does that girl. I can’t understand half of them.’ He gazed at the lad. ‘So what are you going to do?’