‘Don’t tempt fate.’
Worthy stared hard at the Constable. ‘Nowt like that,’ he said firmly. ‘Look at me. Go on, take a long look.’
Nottingham did as he was bid, fixing the picture in his mind.
‘Now, tell me what you see.’
‘Someone who’s starting to show his years.’
The pimp chuckled softly. ‘At least your mam brought you up to be polite. But save it for the Corporation. You don’t beat around the bush with me.’ He waited. ‘Well? What do you see?’
‘You look old, Amos,’ Nottingham told him.
‘I’m dying, laddie.’ It was a simple statement and the Constable didn’t know how to respond. He watched the other man’s eyes and saw it was the truth; the time for dissembling and deception had passed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said finally, and meant it.
‘Don’t be. You’re not immortal yourself. It catches us all in the end.’ His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he was talking about someone else. ‘It’s cancer, that’s what they say. Been growing inside me for a while now, and there’s bugger all anyone can do about it.’
‘Who knows?’
‘Just the doctor in York who told me. And you.’ He raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to tell anyone in Leeds, did you?’
‘You’ve told me.’
Worthy shrugged. ‘That’s different. I know you, you’ll keep it to yourself. You won’t even tell that tall drink of water who works for you.’ He grinned, and for a passing moment the ghost of a younger man sparked in his face. ‘And telling you keeps you off my back.’
‘You think I won’t arrest you?’ Nottingham asked.
‘I know you won’t, laddie. What’s the worst you can charge me with? Fighting in the street?’ He turned his head and spat on the floor. ‘Not worth your time, not for the ten minutes I’d be there.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ the Constable conceded.
‘If you really believed you could have had me for something, you’d have had me in a cell. We both know it.’
‘I would,’ Nottingham agreed. ‘Did the doctor say how long you’d live?’
‘Why, want to be rid of me? Aye, I suppose you do, really.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, laddie, I’ll go when I go.’ He lifted an arm to show a wrist, the skin loose on the bone. ‘Probably not long, by the look of it.’
‘Do you have much pain?’
‘Sometimes,’ he admitted. ‘That doctor sold me summat, but I can’t be doing with it, all it does is make me fall asleep. That’s just what I want, isn’t it, to sleep my way into death.’
‘So what do you do?’
‘Bear it, of course,’ he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘What else are you going to do? A few drinks help. So does a girl here and there, or breaking a few heads.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, my problems will be over soon enough. Yours are going to start after I’ve gone.’
That was true, Nottingham realized. Worthy had controlled most of the prostitution and much of the other crime in Leeds for years. He was a known quantity, smart in his own twisted way, with the Corporation neatly folded and tucked into his pocket.
With his death there’d be a space, and a hundred men all eager to battle each other to assume his crown. All the skirmish with Hughes had done was give them a very small taste of the future.
‘You see it now?’
‘I do.’
‘You’re going to be a busy man, Constable.’
Nottingham nodded sadly.
‘Happen you’ll end up thinking I was the lesser of two evils.’ He started to laugh, which turned into a wet cough, stopping only when he drew in a deep breath and spat again. ‘Better,’ he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve then taking a deep drink.
‘How long have you known, Amos?’
‘Since the start of spring. And for God’s sake, get rid of that long face. I’m only telling you because you need to know. I don’t want sympathy. If you start acting like a lass I’ll knock you into next week.’
‘I should be happy. God knows I’ve wished you dead often enough.’
‘So now your prayers have been answered.’
‘Are you ready for it?’
‘What, shriven and penitent, you mean?’ He snorted in annoyance. ‘What sort of bloody stupid question is that, laddie? You die, it’s all over. It happens when it happens.’
‘No heaven or hell?’
Worthy shook his head with conviction. ‘If you’re going to have those you need to believe, and I haven’t done that in a long time.’ He poured more of the ale. ‘There’s plenty I’ve stopped believing in over the years.’
‘You’ll die a rich man.’
‘Aye,’ Worthy agreed with a sigh. ‘Not as rich as everyone thinks, though. Still, better than begging on the streets.’ He paused. ‘I’ve made my will, and it’ll prove without a problem. There’s something for you in it.’
‘No,’ Nottingham said quickly, but the pimp held up his hand to stop him.
‘Hear me out. It’s not meant for you, I’ve got more sense than that. It’s for that daughter of yours. It’ll bring her an income so she won’t ever have to depend on anyone. I heard she’s just started teaching at the Dame School.’
‘Yes,’ Nottingham answered tightly, angry that the man should follow his family so closely.
‘There’s no money in that. She’ll only earn pennies.’
‘Honest pennies.’
‘Like a Constable’s pay?’ Worthy taunted.
‘It’s more than you can say for your money.’
Worthy sat back. ‘I earn my money then I invest it in London. Did you know that? It grows down there, and that’s quite legal. So how do you know which bit’s honest and which isn’t, Mr Nottingham?’
‘I’m not going to let Emily take money from you.’ He stated it as a fact, not a challenge.
‘The money’s there,’ Worthy said calmly. ‘Why don’t you let her decide when she reaches her majority? She’s a clever girl, isn’t she? Must be, to be a teacher.’
‘Yes.’ The Constable curled his fingers tightly around the mug.
‘Then let her make up her own mind. You tell her your tale and let the money speak for itself. See what she wants to do.’
‘No, Amos.’
Worthy smiled. ‘It’s too late, laddie. The will’s made and I’m not paying any more to a bloody lawyer to change it now.’
Even in death the man would vex him, the Constable thought. He’d have thought it through and done it deliberately; it was his way. He finished his drink.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t be causing you any more trouble, unless some other mad bugger starts to think he’s better than me.’
Nottingham stared at him.
‘Just do me one favour, will you, laddie?’ Worthy asked, his voice suddenly serious.
‘What’s that?’
‘Come to my funeral. I don’t think it’ll be a crowded do.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it, Amos. If only to make sure you’re really dead.’
‘Better,’ Worthy said with a small grin. ‘But what you don’t realize yet is how much you’ll miss me.’
Nottingham stood up and looked at the other man again. He wasn’t frail yet but he’d be close to it, much of his hair gone, the rest wispy, lank and grey. Quickly he turned away and walked out of the house, closing the door quietly behind him.
