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.The picture of the body they’d found kept slipping into his mind, the face beaten to a mess.Even when he found sleep it was broken by shards of dreams that stirred him.By early afternoon he was awake, restless and hot in the bed but still tired.He wondered if John had been able to find something at Megson’s Court.They hadn’t talked to him, closed their doors in his face before he’d said five words, or heard him out then shook their heads quietly and went back to their lives.Sometimes he wondered if he was made to be a Constable’s man, whether life mightn’t be better if he did something else.He was still only nineteen, there were years ahead of him.But he loved the work more than anything he’d ever done, the way it was always different, especially all the long nights that might spark into flame in moments, when the blood surged through his body.The Constable found Little Sal easily enough, in the same spot as the previous morning.Now she looked exhausted, barely raising a smile as she approached him.‘Tuesdays, Mr Nottingham,’ she complained.‘As soon as the market’s over and they have money in their pockets, all they want to do is spend it.They fair wore me out yesterday.’‘There’s a few more coins if you have any word for me,’ he offered.She shook her head.‘You save it, love.I asked some of the others.There are a couple of new lasses, right enough, but none of them sound like the one you’re after.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘Mind you, now I think about it, I’ve not seen so many fresh faces this last week or two.’ She smiled ruefully.‘Maybe they’re learning, eh?’‘They never learn, Sal.Not lads and not lasses.’ He dug into the pocket of his breeches, feeling for a coin and passed it over.‘That’s for trying.’‘You’re a grand man, Mr Nottingham.’ She stared at him pointedly.‘And if you ever feel the urge again …’‘I’ll know who to see.’ He gave her a small bow then left.It was too easy to disappear in a place like Leeds, especially for someone without money.The poor simply vanished; they became unseen, ghosts at the fringe of life.If she’d really come to Leeds, the likelihood was that Jenny was already a whore somewhere, trying to keep body and soul together.But if she wasn’t … He’d have Rob go to the camp by the river and talk to Bessie.The girl could be there, down among those who’d come to the ends of dreams and gathered together at night for safety and company, with no home except the grass by the river.By late afternoon the Constable was back at the jail, completing another report when the deputy arrived.‘Did you find anything?’‘Not too much.’ He recounted what he’d discovered.‘The rest of them were all blind and deaf, slept through the whole thing.You know what they’re like, a bunch of crows.The only surprise is that they weren’t all out stripping the corpse.’‘Have you seen Dick Chapman yet?’‘He wasn’t home.I went back later but there was still no answer.’‘Make sure you find him,’ the Constable ordered.‘I want Dick to feel the fear of God.’‘Yes, boss,’ Sedgwick answered with a grin.‘I’ll enjoy that.’‘After that, go on home.I’ll finish things here.’In truth there was little more to do.He completed the reports and walked up Briggate to the Moot Hall.Around the building, the butchers in the Shambles were closing their shutters for the day; packs of dogs roamed from one door to another, ready to fight for the last of the scraps thrown out on the cobbles.The Moot Hall stood in the middle of Briggate, the street parting around it, and he climbed the polished stairs then walked along the thick Turkey carpet in the long hallway.A desk stood at the end, the young clerk scribbling quickly, his head down, concentrating on his work.Nottingham placed the papers in front of him and the man looked up in surprise.‘Constable,’ he said.‘I’m sorry, I …’ He raised an ink-stained hand in apology.‘No matter, Mr Cobb.Just pass these to the mayor.I’m sure he has no wish to see me.’Cobb frowned.The Constable had clashed with Mayor Fenton the year before and come close to losing his post.In the end he’d won, humiliating the mayor, and bad blood had flowed between them ever since.Fenton’s term would run until September and Nottingham doubted he’d see the man again before then.The clerk took the papers and added them to a pile on the corner of his desk before picking up the quill pen once more.But Nottingham didn’t leave immediately.‘By the way, Mr Cobb,’ he said softly, ‘I think his Worship would dismiss you if he knew you were selling information to criminals.’‘What?’ The man’s head jerked up and the blood left his face.‘We’ve known it for months.Did you really think we wouldn’t?’ Cobb’s eyes darted everywhere, as if he was seeking an escape route.It had been luck that they’d even discovered it, a stray word from a crook with knowledge that could only have come from Cobb.Nottingham had let it lie for a long time; now seemed a good time to press the advantage
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