‘You don’t make demands of the law,’ Nottingham told him and opened the door.
There were two more of Worthy’s men in the kitchen, lounging against the far wall, but he didn’t dismiss them. Instead they stood by the back door, hands resting idly on the hilts of their daggers, eyes fixed on their employer. He was sitting at the table, a mug of ale by his hand.
‘What’s wrong, Amos? Looks like something’s got you scared.’
The procurer tilted his head and calmly pursed his lips. ‘Just looking after things, Constable. A little protection never goes amiss.’
Nottingham raised his eyebrows.
‘So what brings you here?’ Worthy asked. ‘Checking on my well-being?’
‘The girl who robbed you killed herself at the Moot Hall last night.’
The pimp shrugged.‘Saves the cost of a trial and a hanging, anyway. You should be pleased, laddie.’
‘The night jailer’s disappeared, too. Left in the middle of his shift. Gone from his room, too.’
‘Nowt so queer as folk. You ought to know that by now.’
‘You must have paid him plenty.’
‘Nothing to do with me.’ He grinned. ‘Nice idea, though.’
‘I don’t believe that.’ Nottingham’s voice turned hard and the two men by the door stood straighter.
Worthy waved the suggestion away. ‘Believe what you like, Constable. There’s nothing you can prove, is there?’
‘You know the answer to that.’
The pimp pushed his face forward, his features set like flint. ‘Aye, laddie, I do. If you knew it was me, you’d be hauling me off to your jail now.’
‘Oh, I know well enough,’ Nottingham told him. ‘I just can’t prove it, that’s all.’
‘Then don’t come bothering me with it until you can.’ He turned back to the ale. ‘You’ve said your piece and salved your conscience. Now you can bugger off.’
He returned to the jail deep in thought. Sedgwick was there, ready to leave, his face showing how much he was dreading the ride.
‘You’re safe from horseback today,’ the Constable told him. ‘There’s something going on and I want you to get to the bottom of it.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Worthy’s keeping his men close and he’s hired a new one. You remember that lad who used to haul carcasses around for one of the butchers at the Shambles?’
‘The one who looks like a walking mountain? Aye, I remember him. He could stop a cart.’
‘Well, he’s working for Worthy now. It looks to me like Amos is worried. I want to know what’s going on so we can stop it.’
‘You think it’s Hughes?’
‘Very likely.’
Sedgwick picked at a fingernail. ‘We could just let them kill each other and get rid of them all.’
‘I doubt the mayor would like that too much,’ he answered with a dark smile. ‘He wants us to try and keep the bodies off the streets, remember? You know who to talk to. Find out what’s happening.’
‘What did he say about Nan?’
The Constable screwed his face up in disgust. ‘What do you think? He doesn’t know a thing about it, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m going to see Godlove. Get on it, John. Take Rob with you, he can see what makes the city tick. It’ll open his eyes a bit.’
The deputy was relieved that he didn’t have to ride. He always felt awkward and fearful on horseback, scared that he might fall off at any minute. He was much more comfortable on his own two feet, surrounded by the familiarity of Leeds, the faces, the streets that had been his life.
He found Lister at the bottom of Briggate, watching as the weavers took down the trestles and packed up. Some were already hauling the cloth they’d sold over to the warehouses.
‘No problems?’ he asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘There never are, really,’ Sedgwick told him. ‘They’re an orderly lot. They’re just cut-throats on prices, most like. Come on, we’ve work to do.’
He led the younger man over Leeds Bridge and into the streets south of the river. They had a different flavour, a little more spacious, closer to the country, the smell sweeter. The deputy ignored the wealth of Meadow Lane and moved instead into the hovels huddled tight against each other along Hunslet Lane and Bowman Lane.
The house he wanted was cleaner than its neighbours, windows shining, soot proudly scrubbed off the brickwork so it glistened as if it was new. The deputy knocked on the door.
‘We’re going to be talking to Joe Buck. He’s one of the biggest crooks you’ll ever meet,’ he explained. ‘And one of the richest. He looks mild enough, but don’t let that fox you. Let me do the talking.’
‘He’s got money?’ Lister asked.
‘Plenty of it.’
‘So why does he live in this place?’
‘Some people don’t need to flaunt it. He’s a man of surprises, is our Joe. You’ll see.’
The servant who opened the door was as tall as the deputy and more muscular, in a shirt so white it seemed to glow in the sunlight, tailored black breeches and a waistcoat the same shade of bright blue as the sky. A pale powdered periwig sat on top of a head as dark as Middleton coal.
‘Master in?’ Sedgwick asked casually, as if this was a conversation the two men had experienced often in the past.
‘In’t back,’ the servant answered, the accent local but underlaid by something else that gave the words a rich musicality. ‘Tha knows where.’
Sedgwick winked at Rob and they made their way down the small passage that opened into a well-decorated parlour, light beaming through the windows, the furniture all in good taste and polished to a sheen, a thick Turkey carpet covering gleaming floorboards.
The man rose as they entered. The deputy had never seen him when he wasn’t immaculately dressed, even for just resting at home. Today the suit was deep, sober blue, the stock and shirt white, and waistcoat a vivid shock of contrasting colours that somehow managed to suit him. In his early forties, he’d not yet run to fat, and lines barely aged his face.
‘Mr Sedgwick,’ the man said, extending his hand in greeting. The deputy didn’t take it, but glanced admiringly round the room.
‘The thieving business must still be good, Joe.’
He enjoyed watching the man wince, but the reply was calm and even.
‘Business keeps going. Gentlemen, sit down.’ He waved them to a pair of chairs by his own, gathered around an empty hearth.
‘You must be Mr Lister,’ he said, glancing at Rob and idly letting him know how well informed he was. ‘I’ve met your father a few times. He’s done well since he took over the Mercury.’
‘Run into Amos Worthy lately?’ the deputy cut in.
‘As little as possible,’ Buck answered with a small, pained smile.
‘Not planning on trying to take over his interests?’
The man looked as if he’d been insulted. ‘Mr Sedgwick, he deals in girls, you know that.’
‘And other things. Besides, people expand their empires.’
‘Not into those areas.’ Buck shook his head in distaste. ‘Mind you, there’s been some bad blood between him and someone else from what I’m told.’
‘Edward Hughes,’ Sedgwick said and Joe nodded. ‘We’ve already come across him. Have you heard of anything big building between them in the last day or so?’
‘No,’ he said, then spread his hands. ‘But I stay out of that.’ He paused. ‘You should have a word with Bessie Hardcastle. She always knows what’s going on.’
