Slowly, reluctantly, the man complied.
‘Put them on,’ the Constable instructed Rob.
Metal clicked on metal, locking in place; Wendell’s thick arms didn’t sag under the heavy weight.
‘Stand up slowly.’
He rose from the bed, the men standing back slightly, three blades facing him.
‘Walk to the door. And don’t try to run, I have more men outside.’
‘I won’t,’ Wendell said, his voice husky. He glanced over at his mother. ‘You told them, didn’t you?’
She held her head high.
‘Aye, I did.’
‘Fucking old bitch.’ He spat at her. She let it run down her cheek. The Constable kicked him behind the knee, making the man sprawl on the ground.
‘Get up,’ Nottingham told him. ‘Out. Now.’
He let the others leave and turned to the woman. She was keeping her face hard, looking at nothing and breathing slowly.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
She shook her head, keeping back the tears he knew were there. ‘When you find out why, come and tell me.’
‘I will,’ he promised.
The Constable had put away his sword but kept the cudgel in his hand, the loop of leather around his wrist. He looked at Sedgwick, walking alongside Wendell, watching the prisoner intently, and knew the memory of the thief taker was uppermost in his mind.
At the jail they added ankle fetters, attaching them with a chain to a heavy staple driven into the flagstone of the cell. Nottingham locked the door, knowing the man was staring at him, but didn’t give him a glance. There’d be ample time to talk very soon.
‘Good work,’ he told the others. ‘Rob, you’ve put in plenty of hours, go home and sleep. John, I want you to take most of the men and look for this Fanny across the river.’
‘Yes, boss.’
The Constable smiled and rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ve a good feeling about today, I think we’ll find her.’
‘What about Wendell?’ Lister asked.
‘As soon as he’s used to his new home I’m going to discover why he killed his sister.’
Rob unlocked the door of the house on Lower Briggate and entered. He could see his father at work, setting type slowly into blocks on the table, preparing the new edition of the Mercury. The man looked up briefly and beckoned with an ink-stained finger.
‘Who was that you took to the jail?’ he asked.
‘Someone we’ve been looking for,’ Rob answered. He knew not to pass on information.
‘You were all armed.’
‘Always better to be safe.’
Lister dug into one of the boxes in front of him, pulling out a piece of type and examining it before adding it to the article then wiping his hand on his dirty apron.
‘I hope you’ve thought more about what I said?’ he asked
‘Marrying, you mean?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean, and you know it.’ He stopped and removed his spectacles. ‘Well, have you?’
‘I gave you my answer the last time,’ Rob told him bluntly.
‘I’m offering you the chance to reconsider.’ There was iron in his voice, his eyes flat and his mouth expressionless. ‘You’re my son; when you’re under my roof I expect you to obey my wishes.’
Bubbles of anger rose through Rob’s exhaustion. ‘And if I won’t?’
Lister regarded his son for a moment, then said, ‘Maybe your precious Constable can find you a bed in his house, because I won’t have you in mine.’ He put his glasses back on and returned to his work. ‘I warn you, though, if you choose to leave you’ll come to regret it.’
‘And if I stay I might regret it even more.’
Rob turned away to the stairs.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To collect my things and find a room. There are plenty available.’
‘Not on what the city pays you. And you’ll get nothing from me.’
‘I don’t need much. . Father.’ He spat the word out viciously. ‘You’ve apparently made your decision, now it’s my turn to make mine.’
Twenty-One
The Constable brought two mugs of ale into the cell and offered one to Wendell.
‘I daresay you’ll be thirsty.’
The man watched him cautiously from under his brows then reached for the cup and drank greedily. Nottingham leaned against the wall.
‘I know you killed her,’ he said.
‘You do, do you?’ Something that was almost a smile flickered across Wendell’s lips. ‘And how do you know that?’
‘Why else would you have run when we came to ask you about her?’
The man shrugged. ‘Happen I just don’t get along with the law,’ he answered.
‘I’m sure you don’t. But in this case I don’t believe you.’
‘You can believe what you like. You’ve been telling everyone what you think I did.’
‘I know you did it, Peter. I’m just wondering why.’ The Constable took a sip of his ale. ‘That’s what I can’t see. Why would anyone kill his sister?’
‘You keep saying that. But there’s nowt to prove it.’
‘You might be surprised.’
Wendell’s eyes shone and his mouth twitched slyly. ‘Mebbe I would. And mebbe I never killed our Lucy at all.’
‘Oh, you did,’ Nottingham told him with certainty, watching the man’s face closely. ‘You did. What was it, you saw she was having a child?’
‘Why would I give a bugger if she was going to have a babby?’
‘You tell me.’
‘I was the one who looked after her. I was the one who loved her. Don’t believe what that old cow tells you, she couldn’t wait to have Lucy out the house.’ Wendell had found his voice now and the Constable wanted to keep him talking.
‘She wasn’t a bright lass, I heard.’
Wendell shrugged again. ‘She’d do owt for anyone, would Lucy. People didn’t want to know her because of her lip, but she were a lovely girl.’
‘She was scared of seeing you. That’s why she didn’t come to you or to her mother when she was dismissed.’
‘Me? Why’d she be scared of me?’ There was an edge of fury in his tone. ‘I told you, I looked after her.’
But Nottingham understood now, it had all come clear.
‘You looked after her very well, didn’t you, Peter?’
‘I made sure nowt bad happened to her.’
‘And you loved her like more than a sister.’ Wendell leapt upright, lunging forward as far as he could. The Constable didn’t move. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘You fucking bastard.’
‘That was why you killed her. The baby was yours, wasn’t it? And you thought that if she burned in that fire, no one would ever know.’ He could see Wendell’s face growing redder, his fists clenching and knew he was right. ‘You killed her, then you ripped the child out of her and you tried to burn them both.’
The man held up his wrists. ‘Take these off me and I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.’
‘What was it?’ Nottingham continued, pushing and probing. ‘Did you think she’d tell someone who the father was? Had you threatened her, is that why she tried to hide from you?’
The veins stood out on Wendell’s neck, the thick, heavy muscles of his arms straining.
‘She trusted you to look after her and that’s what you did. When you saw what had happened you threatened her and then you killed her.’
‘I loved her!’ Wendell shouted.
‘You loved her so you killed her. Is that the same love you show that girl of yours when you take your fists to her?’ Nottingham kept his voice contained and even. ‘Did she know about you and Lucy?’ The man was silent, breathing heavily, pulling on his chains. ‘No, I’m sure she didn’t, the same way your mother didn’t.’
He waited, letting the silence grow in the room until it became oppressive. He had time. He took another small sip of the ale, seeing the hatred and guilt on Wendell’s face.
‘She came to me,’ the man said finally.
‘Lucy?’
He nodded.