‘Only the dead vanish. And this bastard’s not going to die on us yet. Not until we have him.’ Nottingham’s eyes were as hard as the weather outside. ‘Get the night men looking everywhere.’
The deputy glanced at him quizzically. The Constable leaned forward, rubbing his fingers across his mouth.
‘The fact is that he’s almost certainly killed Rushworth by now. That means he has to get rid of the body.’
The others nodded.
‘His best chance to do that without being seen is at night.’
‘He did it in the day last time, boss.’
‘And we weren’t looking for him then. Have the men check everyone where one man is propping up another or seems dead drunk.’
‘Some nights, that could be half the population of Leeds.’
Nottingham waved away the objection.
‘Let them earn their money for once. It’s as good a chance to find him as we’ve got.’
If he isn’t too clever for them, he thought. So far Wyatt had shown more tricks than a conjuror.
‘Get them on it, John.’
‘Yes, boss.’
Outside, Sedgwick quickly dragged Josh into the White Swan and found a bench in the corner, away from the fire and the loud voices of people railing at winter’s return. He held his hand up for ale, and once the pot boy had served them, he began to talk quickly in a low voice.
‘So what are we going to do about the boss?’
‘What can we do?’ the boy asked.
‘We’re not going to leave him to go up against Wyatt himself, that’s for certain.’
‘But he told us not to follow him.’
The deputy took a drink and shook his head. ‘There’s a time to ignore orders,’ he said firmly. ‘You’re the one to do it. I’m too tall, he’d spot me in a second. You’re the one no one sees, he said so himself.’
Josh nodded slowly. He couldn’t deny it. It was a skill that had kept him alive for years before he’d become a Constable’s man. He’d grown in the last months, but he was still small, able to slide in and out of places, to avoid the eye. And he desperately wanted the boss alive.
‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘Your job now is to follow the boss and make sure he never knows you’re there. I’m ordering you, I’ll take responsibility.’
‘What do I do if I see Wyatt?’ Josh asked. He knew his limits. He’d never best a grown man in a fight.
‘If anyone looks threatening, you yell and kill them. Simple as that.’ He said the words flatly and with finality. He raised his eyebrows. ‘Understand?’
Josh nodded.
‘Right. Finish your ale and get to it.’
Nottingham was deep in his sleep when the noise woke him, loud and persistent. Slowly he groped his way to wakefulness and realized someone was knocking on the door. He pushed the fringe off his face, picked up the cudgel he kept at the bedside and walked quietly downstairs. In a swift single movement he opened the door, ready to strike. The bitter air was a shock against his flesh, pushing him immediately, fully awake.
Josh was there, his hair wild from running, his breath clouding as he panted. The Constable could see his footprints in the snow that now lay on the road.
‘What is it?’
‘There’s been a riot,’ the boy gasped. ‘The apprentices. Mr Sedgwick said you’d better come.’
Nottingham nodded, trying not to shiver in the cold. ‘Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
‘He told me to wait for you.’
The Constable dragged on his clothes, feeling every year of his age.
‘What is it?’ Mary asked, sounding sleep-dazed, her mouth hidden by the blanket, the words curious more than concerned.
‘Just the apprentices.’ It was the only explanation needed. From time to time they’d go out drinking, against the terms of their contracts, and it would bubble over into fighting and destruction. They’d arrest a few of them, break a few heads, and that would be the end of it for a while. It was the way it had always been, further back than anyone remembered.
Josh was standing outside the door, trying to burrow himself into his greatcoat, his hands ploughed into his pockets. The Constable knew why Sedgwick had ordered him to stay. Security. Just in case Wyatt was lying in wait, the wolf hiding in the places where there was no light.
‘Is it bad?’ Nottingham asked as they started to walk.
‘No worse than usual, Mr Sedgwick says.’
‘That’s a small comfort, I suppose.’
He strode out hard, feeling his eyes beginning to tear from the cold. The snow had ended, but there was about two inches of it atop mud that had frozen hard into awkward waves and gullies. The clouds remained, low and thick, a feather bolster over the city, leaving the night moonless.
‘Boss?’ Josh asked in a tentative voice as they crossed the bridge.
‘What is it?’
‘How old were you when you became a father?’
What a strange question, he thought, and had to ransack his memory for the age.
‘Twenty-one. Why? Is that girl of yours in the family way?’
The silence gave him his answer. Jesus, he thought, they begin so young. Or maybe they simply didn’t know any better.
‘She says she is. But she doesn’t look big.’
Despite himself, Nottingham grinned. ‘You give her time. If she’s carrying, she’ll grow. How long have you known her?’ he asked, trying to sound as if the question had no weight.
‘A long time. She was one of those I looked after back when. .’ Josh’s words trailed away. ‘You know.’
Back when you were a cutpurse, the Constable thought. She’d probably be dead now if you hadn’t taken responsibility for her.
‘Do you love her?’
The boy took his time about answering. ‘I don’t know,’ he decided. ‘What is love, anyway?’
‘Now that’s a question men have been asking for centuries.’ They were heading up Kirkgate, past the Parish Church and close to the jail. ‘We’ll talk more about this later. Meanwhile we have work to do.’
A pair of candles lit the office and the fire roared in the grate, as welcoming as a kiss. Noise came from the cells, the overloud voices of young men filled with anger and drink. Sedgwick was leaning against the desk, blood clotted around a gash on his forehead, a heavy cudgel sticking out of his pocket.
‘They got you?’ Nottingham asked.
‘One did, but he’s hurting a lot worse now.’
‘Is everything all under control?’
‘Pretty much, boss. We’ve got the worst of them here, the men are returning some to their masters. A few ran off.’
‘How many were there?’ Nottingham wearily took off his coat and sat at the desk. There would be all the documents to fill out, some prisoners to commit to the Petty Sessions, a few to release with no more than hard threats, all of them requiring words written on paper.
‘About forty, near as I could tell. They’d been at the Talbot.’
Nottingham rolled his eyes. More bad things happened there than at any tavern in Leeds. ‘Did they do much damage?’
Sedgwick shrugged.
‘We’ve had worse. Some windows broken on Briggate. They started a few scraps but nothing major until they ran into us.’
Nottingham nodded. His men knew how to deal with the apprentices when they turned rowdy.
‘What time is it?’
