‘I told you, I don’t have anyone staying with me.’ What did he believe? Simon wondered. That if he said it enough he’d be able to convince everyone?

  ‘I know the truth, Mr Madeley, so let’s take that as understood, shall we? And also that you know your partner here doesn’t have a great deal of money at present. A thousand less, in fact, thanks to Julius White.’

  ‘I don’t—’ He shut up as Simon’s fingers pressed down on tender flesh.

  ‘We have an interesting predicament,’ he continued. ‘You have a guest who’s a kidnapper, a thief and a murderer.’

  ‘He’s not.’

  Simon smiled. ‘You see, we’re beginning to get somewhere already. You’re admitting that he’s staying with you. But you keep dangerous company.’

  ‘He’s—’

  Simon cut him off. ‘A thief, a kidnapper and a murderer. I know exactly who he is. But I couldn’t understand why he’d chosen to snatch Hannah Milner until I learned about you and that you wanted to buy out your partner.’

  ‘I didn’t know he’d done that,’ Madeley said.

  ‘No? I’ll be very interested to hear you prove that in court. I don’t think it’ll take a jury long to understand the connections. And it’s a very short trip from the cell to the noose.’

  ‘It had nothing to do with me.’ The sweat stood out on his face.

  ‘I’ve already told you, we’ll see about that. After all, we have you here, and it won’t take long for Mr Milner to go and swear out a warrant with the magistrate. Have you ever been in the gaol?’ All the man could do was shake his head. ‘You won’t like it, believe me. No comforts and plenty of low company. And you’d be surprised how long it can take for a case to come to trial.’

  Milner had kept silent, staring at Madeley with eyes full of fury. Leave the pair of them together and one could end up dead.

  ‘I think you’ll agree that we have a dilemma,’ Simon said. ‘I don’t know you, it’s nothing to me whether you dance for the hangman or not. I want Julius White.’

  ‘And any attempt to buy me out stops immediately,’ Milner added.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ The man couldn’t speak quickly enough. ‘Of course.’

  ‘That’s a start. You see, it’s easy once we all agree. Now, let’s move on to the big question. How are you going to deliver your friend to me?’

  ‘Me?’ He looked up at Simon. ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Then you don’t seem to understand. You can and you will. It’s as simple as that. It’s either that or your life. I don’t know what kind of hold he has over you, but I’m sure putting it this way makes your choice easier.’

  ‘He’ll kill me.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ Simon said. ‘He won’t have the chance.’

  ‘How?’ Madeley asked. ‘You can’t protect me.’

  Simon brought his face close enough to smell the man’s breath.

  ‘You’d better pray that I can.’

  By the time they left the factory, Simon had the information he needed. Madeley had sketched the layout of his house, marking the room where White was staying and the ways in and out of the place.

  ‘Was he there when you left?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Yes. Him and the cook.’

  ‘Now come with me. I’m going to make sure you’re safe.’

  That was the easy part. Jane was waiting outside. With her on one side and Simon on the other, they walked to the house on Swinegate. The children were in bed. Rosie was waiting for them.

  ‘Let me warn you,’ Simon said to Madeley. ‘You need to stay on your best behaviour. If I were you, I wouldn’t try anything stupid. My wife used to work with me. She’s far deadlier than I am.’

  The man looked at her as if he couldn’t believe a woman might be dangerous.

  ‘He’s right,’ she said with a cold smile, slipping her knife from its sheath. ‘And I’ve a much shorter temper.’

  ‘I need your keys,’ Simon said.

  ‘My keys? Why?’

  ‘Why do you think? To get into your house.’

  Meekly, he handed them over.

  They hurried along Vicar Lane. Leeds was alive with people. Saturday night and the beershops were full. Payday, and men hoped to find oblivion for a few hours. A group of them staggered down the middle of the road, laughing and singing, oblivious to the horses and carts nudging around them.

  When Milner’s servant first came to him, Simon had never expected any of this. He’d never been asked to find a person before, but Hannah was legally her father’s property. It was his job. It was what he did. It had seemed straightforward enough, to find the girl who’d been taken and deliver her home.

  And all along, White had been the puppet master, pulling the strings to make them all dance. But he couldn’t have known that in the beginning. White had led them all along a path, then that road had turned. Left, right, back on itself, until all the twists dizzied him.

  Once he learned about the connection between White and Madeley, everything started to make sense. Yet even now, Simon wondered how much he still didn’t know. There had to be more. All the relationships were tangled and knotted. Business, obligation, strange friendships and enemies. But there’d be time to slice through them all later, once White was in jail and waiting for his trial.

  Simon didn’t turn by the workhouse at the top of Lady Lane. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jane looking curiously at him. But she stayed silent, keeping pace as he started out along Black Flags Lane.

  ‘How are we going to take him?’ she asked finally.

  He patted the keys, hearing them jangle in his pocket.

  ‘We’re going through the front door, just as if we own the place.’

  ‘Someone needs to cover the back.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that.’ He nodded towards Lizzie Henry’s house. ‘I’ve taken care of it.’

  The servant was waiting. His face was grim as he marched stiffly beside them, listening closely as Simon gave his orders. A sword clattered against his leg and the handle of a pistol protruded from his pocket.

  ‘Don’t kill him,’ Simon said. The man simply stared and gave no answer. ‘I mean it. He can hang for murder.’

  A lamp burned in one of the rooms at Lady Lodge, the shutters still open, casting a faint light out into the garden. Simon stayed in the shadows, Jane close behind him. There was no sign of White through the window.

  The key turned easily in the lock, and the door opened silently. Stepping into the hall, Simon took out his knife. He gestured, and Jane moved toward the rooms upstairs.

  There was no reason for White to expect them. A little luck and they’d take him swiftly and cleanly.

  The map Madeley had drawn was clear in his mind. Simon felt his heart thumping, the knife hilt slick in his hand as he tested each door until he came to the lit room.

  A fire burned invitingly in the grate. The lamp stood on a small, delicate table, and next to it, a glass of wine. A book lay open, face down, on a chair. But no sign of Julius White.

  Simon felt the prickle of fear rise up his spine. The man knew. He was prepared. He was waiting somewhere in the house for them.

  He climbed the stairs, testing each tread before he put his weight on it, then along the hall. Turned the handle of White’s room. In the faint light through the window, he could see it was empty.

  From door to door. Nobody.

  He couldn’t hear Jane moving around.

  Finally, only one door remained. It was ajar, a faint light inside. Simon took a deep breath and pushed it open.

  EIGHTEEN

  The low glow of a banked fire. Just enough to make out the shapes in the corner. One large. The other smaller, with the shine of steel at her throat.

  ‘Drop the knife.’ It was a rough voice. Definitely Leeds, but there was something else, something strange overlaying it. At first, Simon didn’t move. Then White tightened his grip on Jane’s hair, pulling her head back to show more of her neck.

  Simon let the weapon fall to the floor.

  ‘Good. Now the one in your boot.’

  He had no choice. White had already killed Lizzie Henry. He wouldn’t give a second thought to murdering Jane.

  Simon took it out and laid it on the carpet. White had said nothing about the knife hidden in his sleeve. Maybe he didn’t know it existed. That offered him a chance …

  ‘It’s a long way to come for revenge, Julius. A long wait, too.’

  ‘Makes it all the more pleasurable when it happens.’ A dark smile that didn’t reach his eyes. They were cold, hard, glittering in the firelight. ‘I’ve enjoyed watching you run around, acting like you knew what you were doing.’

  ‘And now you’ve got me here.’

  ‘It was always just a matter of time. When I was ready for you.’

  ‘You’ve done a fine job of preparation.’

  White bobbed his head at the compliment.

  ‘Don’t worry, Westow, your part in this little play will soon be over. After that, there’s just your wife, then I’ll be on my way as quietly as I came.’

  The voice, Simon thought. It was almost an Irish lilt over the local accent. A voice that was impossible to miss.

  ‘You think it’ll be that easy?’

  ‘I know it will be. You really should have learned by now, Mr Westow. I’m always three steps ahead of you. I always intended to come back and do this. You were never going to come out on top.’

  Simon’s chest felt tight. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Rosie or the boys. He couldn’t afford to let White win.

  He had Jane. Simon daren’t risk her life. He could see a mix of faith and fear in her eyes. The belief he could get them out of this alive. The hint of a chance, and he’d do that. White’s body looked hard and muscled, still brown from all the sun in Australia. But he’d have spent half a year on a ship coming home, then a few more months in Leeds. He’d have softened, slowed.

  ‘Do you think you know the truth about everything that happened nine years ago?’

  ‘I’m certain I do,’ Simon said.

  White raised an eyebrow. ‘But what if you don’t? Just because you’re so sure doesn’t mean you’re right. Lizzie Henry could have had that servant killed as revenge for stealing. It wouldn’t be the first time.’

  ‘She was raped, too.’

  White shrugged. ‘The murderer could have done that.’

  ‘He did. It was you. And the man you claimed you bought the locket from never existed.’

  ‘But what if he did? Consider that.’

  Suddenly White pushed Jane away, a hard shove. He meant her to crash into Simon, to send them both sprawling to the floor. The words had been a distraction, nothing more. But Simon was quicker. He slid to the side and pulled the knife from his sleeve.

  ‘Perhaps you’re not as far ahead as you think.’

  Jane fell. She rolled, then sprang straight back on her feet. The weapons Simon had placed on the floor were in her hands, grim fury on her face.

  ‘Two against one,’ Simon told him. ‘Things change very quickly. Not really three steps at all.’

  White’s eyes darted from one of them to the other.

  ‘You can hurt one of us,’ Simon told him, ‘but the other will kill you. And I don’t think you came back here to die.’

  White smiled. ‘What’s my choice?’

  ‘This afternoon Milner visited the magistrate and swore out a warrant on you for taking his daughter.’

  The man nodded slowly. ‘I’m not a fool.’ He dropped his knife.

  ‘Search him,’ Simon told Jane.

  She was thorough. Pockets, boots, sleeve. The edge of her knife rested against his cheek. As she finished, she slid it down and stood back to watch the blood begin to form and trickle over his flesh. White just stood, impassive. Nothing to read in his eyes.

  ‘You should tell the judge what you did for all those rich men in the past. It might save you from the noose.’

  White stared. ‘I don’t peach.’ He spat and smiled. ‘No need.’

  Bravado, Simon thought. It was over for him now.

  ‘It’s time to go, Julius. After all, it won’t be the first night you’ve spent in a cell.’

  He didn’t resist. The only time he hesitated was on the step, as Simon locked the door. Lizzie Henry’s servant stood there, waiting for them.

  ‘Mr White is going to the gaol,’ Simon said. ‘Perhaps you’d like to escort him.’

  ‘I’d be very happy to do that.’ The man’s mouth twisted into a crooked grin.

  ‘Remember what I told you. I want him alive to stand trial,’ he warned. ‘Don’t let him escape. The rest is up to you. He’s not armed.’

  ‘Wouldn’t matter much if he was. He won’t be getting away. You can trust me on that.’ Casually, as if it was nothing, he kicked White between his legs, smiling with satisfaction as he crumpled. ‘On your feet,’ he ordered. ‘We’ve got a way to go, and you’re not going to enjoy the journey.’

  Jane watched them go. The servant dragged White along. The anger spat and burned inside her. She’d let herself be caught. She’d let herself be taken.

  ‘We should have killed him,’ she said.

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t do that unless I had to,’ Simon reminded her. ‘He surrendered. It’s better this way – everything will be legal when he hears the hanging psalm. It won’t be long now.’ He looked at her. ‘I will say this: if he’d hurt you, he’d be dead already.’

  ‘I was stupid.’

  ‘You’re alive. Just be glad of that.’

  But it didn’t seem like comfort. She’d cut White, she’d felt the knife slice through his skin. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to watch the last breath leave him, to see the blood boil from his throat.

  She’d been careful entering the room. Alert for any sound, any movement. She hadn’t even had a sense of anyone in there. No smell, nothing at all. He’d appeared behind her like a ghost, grabbing her hair in one hand and putting the knife to her throat with the other. No chance to fight back. No chance to do anything.

  He’d made her weak. She could never forgive that.

  ‘Do you think he’ll really deliver White to the gaol?’ The pair had vanished into the blackness.

  ‘Probably.’ She knew it was as much as Simon was going to say. If White vanished, he wasn’t the one responsible. His hands would be clean.

  They began the walk back into town. Soon enough they were surrounded by the abandon of Saturday night. Raucous laughs and bloody faces. Wild eyes and men shouting. A woman’s wild cackle. She’d never understood it. For her, it was no different from every other night of the week. People would die, people would be born. Folk would spend their money and wake the next morning with nothing to show for it but a sore head and an empty purse. It didn’t seem to be much of a way to live a life.

  ‘Did Milner really take out the warrant?’ Jane asked.

  ‘He did. Once we go through White’s things, I daresay we’ll find Lizzie Henry’s locket, so we can add murder to the charges.’ He let out a low breath. ‘He won’t be able to escape that.’ He turned to her. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She hadn’t been scared. Just resigned. Angry at her own failure. He’d been better than her. She’d been helpless, overpowered. Exactly the way she’d felt with her father on top of her. The way she swore she’d never feel again.

  She’d have done the world a favour if she’d slit White’s throat instead of his cheek.

  Two men lay head to toe, passed out on the gutter at the edge of Briggate. Jane could hear the sound of a fight somewhere, the roar of men urging each other on. Leeds was alive on drink.

  As Simon closed the door behind them, it all receded. Rosie hurried through from the kitchen, anxious, mouth opening with relief to see them both alive and unhurt. Jane stood aside as she embraced her husband, running her fingertips down her cheek.

  ‘Is he …?’

  ‘He should be in a cell now.’

  Rosie closed her eyes for a moment, then exhaled. ‘It’s over?’

  ‘Yes.’ As much as it could ever be over until White was on the gallows with a rope around his neck.

  Without a word, Jane left them, climbing the stairs to the attic room. She wouldn’t cry. She didn’t cry. By now she knew how to keep it all inside, never to let the world see a single thing.

  Madeley sat with a glass of wine in front of him, the bottle half-empty on the kitchen table. He looked up as Simon came in.

  ‘You don’t have a guest any longer,’ Simon said. ‘It’s safe to go home now.’ He took out the keys and tossed them to the man. ‘I appreciate your help.’

  He gave a snort. ‘I didn’t have much choice, did I? Where is he?’

  ‘In gaol.’

  ‘We’ve had an interesting talk while you were gone.’ Rosie’s voice sounded too bright for the room. For the night. ‘Mr Madeley definitely won’t be pushing to buy his partner out of the factory any more. He even signed a document to say so.’

  Simon nodded. He knew it wasn’t even worth the cost of paper and ink. The man could always claim he’d been forced to sign. But it was something.

  ‘It’s Sunday tomorrow. Court won’t sit until Monday. I’ll come and search White’s belongings in the morning. Did he bring much?’

  ‘No,’ Madeley answered. ‘Hardly anything at all.’ He hesitated. ‘Are you certain it’s safe?’

  ‘I am. What hold did White have over you?’

  The man held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at the floor.

  ‘Ten years ago I had some problems. A man was trying to blackmail me. Someone told me about White. I went to see him and the man never came back.’

  ‘Did White murder him?’ Simon asked.

  ‘I didn’t ask. The man never returned, that’s all I know.’

  And what he didn’t know couldn’t weigh on his conscience.

  ‘How much did you pay White?’

  ‘Enough.’

  ‘There’s no such thing for a man like him,’ Simon said.

  ‘Maybe not. He turned up three months ago. He must have just come back from Australia. He said he needed somewhere to stay for a few days.’

  ‘You could have refused.’