Chris Nickson - Constant Lovers

‘Nothing new there, John. It can’t have been that bad, there’s no one in the cells.’

‘Bad enough.’ He sat down across from the Constable. ‘Seems like some of Worthy’s men were going at it with some others.’

Nottingham sat upright, attentive. ‘How many in all?’

‘About eight or so. Morris wasn’t sure.’

‘And who were these other men?’

‘He didn’t know, but my guess is they belonged to Hughes.’

‘Revenge for the whore who was cut.’

‘Aye. And it lets Worthy know Hughes won’t be leaving, too.’

‘How many were hurt?’

‘I don’t know. Morris was on his own so he stayed out of the way.’

‘Best thing,’ Nottingham agreed with an approving nod.

‘He did think one or two looked in bad shape.’

The Constable pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stop the throbbing he could feel building in his head.

‘He beats someone to death and now this. Amos must be feeling pressed if he needs to push hard.’

‘What did he say yesterday, boss?’

‘Just what you’d expect. He knew all about it, of course, and challenged me to prove he had anything to do with it.’

‘So what now?’

The Constable sighed. ‘The good news is that he claims he doesn’t have Nan.’

‘Do you believe him?’

‘Yes,’ he replied slowly. ‘If he knew where she was he wouldn’t have said a word.’ He sat and steepled his hands under his chin. ‘I think it’s time to go and meet Mr Hughes. Find out where he lives and we’ll pay him a visit.’

‘Yes, boss.’

Sedgwick slipped out, returning in less than ten minutes with a broad grin.

‘House on the Calls. When do you want to go and see him?’

Nottingham gave a dark smile, stood up and put on his coat.

‘No time like the present, John. Let’s see what our newest citizen is like.’

They walked down Kirkgate, then down Call Lane, taking their time, for all the world like two friends out enjoying the morning. Only the determined looks on their faces gave them away.

‘How do you want to do this, boss?’

‘I think we’ll just make the acquaintance of Mr Hughes and remind him that we have law in Leeds. See if that’s enough for him.’

Sedgwick pounded on the thin door with the flat of his hand, rattling it in its old, ill-fitting frame. The house was a cheap dwelling place, mortar slowly crumbling between the brickwork, the chimney pot sitting askew on the roof. They waited a minute and the deputy knocked again, banging until he heard the key turn inside.

‘What do you want?’

The man was young and shirtless, showing off a stocky physique with well-muscled arms. His face was sallow, with a recent cut above his right eye and a deep bruise flowering around his left. His head was shaved smooth, glistening in the sunlight.

Nottingham glanced at the man’s knuckles, cut and swollen, and knew without doubt he’d been part of the battle.

‘Well?’ the man asked, rubbing at his eyes, his voice still thick with sleep.

‘You’re Mr Hughes?’ the Constable asked.

The man put his hands on his hips and smiled comfortably. ‘I am. Who wants to know?’

‘I’m the Constable of Leeds. I want a word with you.’

‘Oh aye?’ Hughes raised his eyebrows.

‘Inside,’ Nottingham told him firmly. He locked eyes with the man, holding his gaze until Hughes moved aside.

The parlour was a jumble, with clothes and rubbish idly scattered across the floor. The sound of voices came from upstairs, men and women both, and footsteps clattered on the boards over their heads.

‘What do you want, Constable?’ Hughes asked. He picked up a dirty mug from the floor and took a swig from it.

‘In a fight, were you?’ Sedgwick asked.

‘Mebbe.’ He looked from one of them to the other.

‘Where are you from, Mr Hughes?’ the Constable wondered.

‘Why? Does it matter?’ His tone had become sullen.

Nottingham smiled graciously. ‘Just taking an interest. From the sound of you it’s not anywhere around Leeds.’

‘Doncaster,’ Hughes conceded.

‘How many of you are there?’

‘Eight. Four girls and the rest of us.’

‘One of your lasses was hurt recently,’ the deputy said.

‘Someone cut her, aye.’

‘That’s a crime. Why didn’t you report it?’

Hughes shrugged.

‘So you’re running four whores, Mr Hughes?’

‘Am I?’

‘You are.’ The Constable’s voice turned hard. ‘Your girl wouldn’t have been out and there wouldn’t have been a fight last night if you weren’t.’

‘Old man Worthy paying you, is he?’ Hughes sneered.

‘Only the city pays me, Mr Hughes. You’d do very well to remember that.’

Hughes looked doubtful, uncertain whether to believe what he was hearing.

‘And if I have some girls?’

‘It’s against the law,’ Nottingham began, ‘but men are always going to pay for girls. As long as there’s no trouble we pay it no mind.’

‘I didn’t start any trouble.’

‘But you kept it going last night,’ Sedgwick told him. ‘We don’t play fear or favour here.’

‘It stops, Mr Hughes,’ the Constable ordered. ‘And I’ll be telling Amos Worthy the same.’

‘The old bugger’s past it, anyway,’ Hughes said, ‘letting himself be taken in by a servant girl.’

Nottingham said nothing, allowing the silence in the room to build.

‘You know the rules now.’

‘And if I don’t obey them?’

‘Then you’ll pay the consequences,’ the Constable said simply, ‘and by Christ, you’ll wish you’d listened. Good day, Mr Hughes.’ He turned on his heel and left, followed by the deputy.

Outside, the pair walked in silence for a while.

‘You think he’ll listen?’ Sedgwick asked finally.

Nottingham shook his head. ‘No. He thinks with his pizzle and his fists, that one. He’s not going to listen to reason. Have some of the men keep an eye on him. He’s going to be trouble.’

‘What about Worthy?’

‘I’ll talk to him again. Keep looking for Nan.’

‘If we find her first Worthy’s going to look weak.’

‘That’s for him to deal with. He got one of them, and I’ll be damned if he gets the pair.’

They walked into the empty jail and Sedgwick looked around.

‘Did Rob come back this morning?’

‘He did. I sent him back to Jackson’s rooms to see if there’s anything more he can find. He’s probably still there. He did turn up some interesting stuff about Lady Gibton. Seems she really does have a touch of insanity. That backs up what her husband said to me.’ He paused. ‘I don’t know who killed Sarah Godlove, but every bit of this seems to stink of money and power,’ he said with distaste.

‘You’ll find that anywhere,’ the deputy commented.

‘Very likely,’ Nottingham agreed. ‘But it’s dirty stuff, wherever it happens. And it’s not in Leeds. I’d never heard of any of these people before this happened.’

‘Godlove didn’t seem too bad.’

‘Maybe not,’ he answered. ‘But I’m going to have to look at him again. The more this goes on, the more things seem to point towards him. If he knew about his wife and Will Jackson he certainly had a reason to kill her, in his own mind at least.’

‘I thought you’d decided he was innocent.’

The Constable sighed in frustration. ‘I know, that’s what I thought. It’s what I still feel. But the more I look at it, I just don’t know where else to turn.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘We shouldn’t have to take all this on. It’s not as if Leeds doesn’t have crime without looking outside the city.’

‘I wish we could arrest that bugger Worthy.’