wood break bone and the loud, agonized cry that followed. Sedgwick was already attacking the other man, then Lister started, flailing at the skull of the first. Nottingham moved aside to give them room.
It had only been the work of seconds, barely a skirmish, but he still found himself panting hard from it, energy and excitement jangling through his body. Sedgwick’s man was laid out on the dirty floorboards, while the other held his arm carefully, blood flowing freely from the wounds on his head.
‘Wake that one up,’ the Constable ordered, ‘and take them to the jail. See what you can get out of them.’
The deputy used his boot to rouse the unconscious man. He stirred slowly, moving gradually to his knees then vomiting loudly.
‘Get him out of here before he does that again,’ the Constable ordered. ‘The smell here’s bad enough as it is.’
There was no resistance in them. As hard men they had nothing to offer beyond their size. They were brutal enough against someone weak, but crumpled if anyone showed them some fight.
Once they’d gone and silence had returned to the stairwell, he knocked on the door. Two of the panels had been smashed, but the lock had held. Another good push or two and it would have given, though.
‘I’m the Constable of Leeds,’ he said, loud enough for whoever was inside to hear. ‘You’re safe now.’
There was no response. He tried the handle but it wouldn’t give.
‘Can you let me in? There’s no one here to hurt you.’
Again there was nothing and he waited. He needed to know who was beyond that door.
‘Please, let me in.’
When no one answered he knew he had no choice. Standing back he raised a leg and brought the sole of his boot down hard just below the lock. The door shuddered but held until he did it again and finally everything gave.
Gently, holding the cudgel loosely, he pushed the door open and walked in. A girl was crouched in the far corner, shivering uncontrollably and trying to make herself small, tears coursing down her face, small fingers attempting to hold the torn bodice of her dress together.
‘Don’t worry,’ he told her softly, ‘I won’t hurt you. Those men have gone.’
She looked up at him. He squatted, looking into her eyes and giving an encouraging smile.
‘You’re Nan, aren’t you?’ he said.
Eighteen
‘A lot of people have been looking for you, love.’
He reached out to take her hand and she pulled fearfully away. Instead of grabbing her, he left his hand there, as he might with a beaten dog, patiently waiting for her to decide.
‘You’ve been hiding a few days, haven’t you?’
She nodded, eyes wide, as if she didn’t trust herself to open her mouth and speak. He had a chance to look at her properly, and saw dark unkempt hair hanging in loose rat tails, grimy skin, fingernails bitten all the way down.
‘Don’t worry,’ he told her kindly, ‘Amos Worthy can’t get you now. You didn’t know about him when you took the job in his house, did you?’
‘No.’ Her voice was a bare croak, quavering even over one word.
Nottingham took off his coat and passed it to her. ‘Button that up and you’ll be decent. There are some clothes at the jail you can wear.’
She placed her small fingers in his and he pulled her upright. The skin on her palm was callused, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. He helped her up and she put on the coat, far too large on her tiny body; she looked like an absurd doll. The Constable smiled at her.
‘That’s better,’ he said encouragingly. He kept one hand lightly on the small of her back as they left the house. It helped steady her, although the shaking was growing less, but also ready to hold her in case she tried to run. After the darkness inside the daylight seemed unnaturally bright as they emerged back on to Lands Lane.
‘Tom was your brother?’
‘Yes.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘How did you know that?’
‘It’s my job,’ he told her.
‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’ she asked flatly, already knowing the answer.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘I’m sorry. But you would have been, too, if we hadn’t come. You’ll be safe at the jail.’
She looked at him and shook her head, her eyes warier now. ‘Until they hang me, you mean?’
‘That depends on the judge.’
On Briggate he stayed close to her, ready for her to try to vanish into the throng of people in the street. But she stayed placid, letting herself be guided, glancing round fearfully, her arm linked through his as they walked. Yes, he thought, she’d be convicted by a jury and they’d hang her up on the Moor for her thefts. She knew that as well as he did, but it wouldn’t happen for a while yet. He could give her a little more life.
At the jail he put her in a cell, and brought her a mildewed dress from the chest of old clothes they kept, along with a mug of ale. When he returned, she’d changed her clothes and sat on the pallet, drinking.
‘Are they here, too?’
‘Don’t worry, you’re safe. They can’t get you. Were they the ones who killed your brother?’
‘No.’
‘But you were there when it happened, weren’t you?’
She closed her eyes for a few moments, squeezing them tight to try and keep out the memories and gave a short nod.
‘They found us. We’d been in an inn to have something to eat and they grabbed us when we left. Four of them.’
‘Where did they take you?’
‘I don’t know — a cellar.’
‘Was Worthy there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who else was with him?’
‘The men who’d found us.’
She turned pale and put her head forward. He waited silently for her to continue.
‘They made me sit on a chair in the corner. Tied my hands behind me. Then they started to hit Tom. Over and over.’
The tears began to roll down her cheeks. Nottingham wasn’t even sure she was aware of them as she relived what had happened.
‘What about Worthy? Did he hit him?’
‘He used a stick, not his fists. Kicked him, too.’
‘How did you get away?’
She snorted. ‘The one who tied me couldn’t make a knot to save his life. As soon as they were busy, I ran as fast as I could. I knew I couldn’t do anything to save Tom, he was. .’ Her voice trailed away. Nottingham let quiet fill the room.
‘And you’ve been running since,’ he said eventually. She nodded slightly. ‘You could admit to theft, you know. It might save you from the hangman.’
‘Aye, and it might not.’
‘If you don’t it’ll be the noose for sure,’ he told her. ‘Think on that.’
He closed the cell door behind her. The men were being held separately; they both stared at him defiantly through the barred doors.
‘Did they say anything?’ he asked in the office where Sedgwick and Lister were sitting.
‘Not a word, boss,’ the deputy replied with a deep, frustrated sigh. ‘Mention Amos Worthy and they ask who
