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Rosco shrugged and straightened the lapel of his dirty overcoat. “Ain’t got nowhere to be. What you want to know about the squire, eh?”
“I want to find him.”
“By that look in your eye, I take it you don’t want to gab.”
“Right you are, Rosco.” I leveled my gaze at him. “So, can you help me?”
“Well, I like a good brawl.” He shrugged. “Give me that coin and we’ll see.”
I caught the shilling again and waved it at him. “If I give you this coin, you’ll talk until the orphanage rings its morning breakfast bell if you have to. Aye?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
He wanted to act tough for his friends, but I had his measure. He understood I wasn’t a man to fool around with. I was like him—cunning—but also twisted.
Certainly more twisted than this young fool.
I put the coin into his palm, and made ready to snatch him by the collar if he bolted.
He didn’t. He shoved it into a pocket and nodded his chin over my shoulder. “Squire Fisher’s been saucing proper the last couple days, over at the tavern in the square. Shows up past sundown, same time every night. Usually carries himself like he’s the neighborhood guard dog. Not recently, though. Seems down.” Rosco chuckled. “You stay here long enough, shill, you’ll see him pass this alley on his way.”
“Will you be here to see him?”
Another shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
I’d already given this boy more than a week’s pay just for uttering a few sentences. I wasn’t about to give him more for making himself scarce.
I had a better idea.
“What will it take for you to stand watch over yonder?” I motioned vaguely behind me. “Call me when you see him? I don’t know what he looks like.”
Rosco snorted. “You can’t miss him, mate. He’s wearing a big eye patch these days. Looks like someone finally scuffed him up good.”
I smiled wickedly. It filled me with pride to know my little thorn had taken half his eyesight away. I suspected poking eyes out was typically beyond Robin’s purview.
“Still,” I said, “two more pence to have you stand watch. Tell me if the law comes waltzing by.”
“They won’t, this late.”
I sighed. “Dammit, lad, I’m trying to help you here.”
Rosco looked confused. His two friends stood up next to him.
“Three pennies,” the littlest one said. He had buckteeth. “One for each o’ us. We don’t like that fucker any, either. Have a quarrel with him, right Ros?”
“Right, Tick.”
“Fine,” I said. I reached into my shirt and produced the coins from a small pouch. It pained me to part ways with money that could be used for the gang, but I wanted to do this right.
Twenty minutes later, I was still standing in the shadow of the alley, under an awning that drowned me in darkness. It was a good place to play dice for the gutter-rats. I could just make out their silhouettes in the distance, highlighted by silvery moonlight.
A couple people waltzed down the street in either direction, heading to or from the tavern and the square ahead. The ones from the tavern stumbled and swayed. The ones heading toward it had some fire in their step.
Every time a man passed, I’d look over to the boys. They made no signs, so I continued waiting, growing impatient.
It dawned on me that, at any moment, they could turn tail and run down the street. I’d never catch them. Not only were they too far away now, but I didn’t know these streets like they did. I hadn’t grown up in Nottingham.
A tall lad with swinging blond hair walked gingerly down the road, chest puffed out, chin raised. I couldn’t make out his face from my angle.
