“Betsy, is it?” The Runner looked their waitress up and down, his eyes communicating that he found her wanting.
Betsy narrowed her hard, lined eyes. “Rumor whispers you have the cock of a worm. Hard to catch the pox with such wee bait.”
Marietta spewed her beer forward. Noble patted her on the back as the pub roared with laughter at Betsy’s response.
“Just what I expect from aladyin this pub.” The Runner moved to the back and settled into a seat. His eyes scanned the room, assessing everyone and watching their movements. Marietta grew increasingly uncomfortable.
With the arrival of the patrolmen’s group and the Runner, pubgoers had been forced to spill outside.
“Come.” Noble pressed closely to her ear. He nudged her up and they made way through the crowded pub. Their table was swallowed up immediately behind them.
Marietta caught a last sight of the Runner’s eyes following them as they stepped through the door.
They spoke with people of all types as they exited the pub and milled around the street—pickpockets, patrollers, prostitutes. Most of them had seen nothing. Some had seen the arrest. It wasn’t until nearly one in the morning that they found treasure.
The gap-toothed prostitute, smelling of gin and sex, looked Noble up and down. “I seen another man, yea. He was standing over both of ’em—the girl that got herself killed and the boy they arrested.”
Marietta froze, her arm still wrapped in Noble’s as it had been the entire night.
“What did he look like?” Noble’s tone was curious, but she could feel the tension vibrating through him as well.
“Hard to tell, yea. But dark hair. His clothes was dark too.”
“Could you recognize him, were you to see him again?”
The prostitute smiled, the spaces between her teeth wafting a smell in Marietta’s direction that was anything but pleasant.
“Prolly not. Coulda been you for all I seen.”
“Why didn’t you tell the watch what you’d seen?” Marietta asked.
The prostitute looked at her for the first time, and her eyes narrowed. “Cor, you sound a right high, your highness.” She laughed at her own joke, slapping her thigh. “Best get those airs gone. Though I s’pose some men might toss for it.”
She eyed Noble again. “Maybe should get me an air.”
Noble squeezed Marietta’s arm. Her crisp speech had not helped, though the prostitute seemed too far in her cups to care. Marietta tried again in a more moderated tone. “Why didn’t you tell the watch?”
“That ol’ Daise had seen something else?” She laughed riotously. “Got to get back to me corner, unless you want somethin’ besides talk?”
Noble gave her a coin—well more than he had given the others, who were more mentally fit—and Daise shuffled away.
“Why don’t we have her tell the watch? They’ll have to let Kenny go, or at least submit it at his trial.”
He looked back at her from where he had been watching Daise walk. “Don’t be silly. They would no more believe her than they would believe us were we to walk inside and declare him innocent.”
“Well why not? Her story matches Kenny’s and—”
He released her arm from his and turned to lift her chin. He tilted her head gently as he searched her eyes. “It does you credit to say that she is a valid source of information, even if it is only to get your brother released. But most people would not trust a drunken prostitute like Daise. Would you have two weeks ago?”
She blinked at him. “I don’t know.” She hadn’t even thought about prostitutes, drunken or not, two weeks ago. “That could be me on the corner were things different.” She swallowed. “Or if they go differently, it still could. I would want someone to believe me.”
His eyes were shaded with the fall of the gaslight and she couldn’t read them. “Marietta, you—”
“Isn’t this touching. A broker and hisladytogether on the street.”
They both turned to see the Runner standing at the corner. Daise must have beaten a hasty retreat. She felt Noble stiffen.
The Runner’s eyes ran over them, back and forth. “I’ve been watching the both of you all night. Stirring up trouble about the murderer? Should I arrest you for harassment or try and discover your larger scheme?”
