it’s possible her woman overheard them making the assignation and told Sir Lindsey. It’s also possible that Titus Poole simply followed Nicholas to the gardens that night and killed him, although the sickle in the back has an amateurish, unplanned feeling to it that argues against that. So I’m beginning to think it more likely that Poole overheard the conversation and reported it to whoever was employing him, and that person went to the gardens to confront Hayes.”
“Katherine Forbes said Sir Lindsey was gone by the time she meant to call a hackney for the gardens. She assumed he went straight to the dinner, but what if he didn’t? What if he went to the gardens and met Hayes in the clearing? If he didn’t get any blood on his clothes, Sir Lindsey could conceivably have killed Hayes and then gone on to Carlton House.”
“I’d say so, yes. I think I need to pay another visit to Mr. Titus Poole.”
Chapter 52
T he rain started just before Sebastian turned his horses into Newgate Street. There was a clap of thunder, a hush, then a sudden downpour that roared in their ears. The temperature felt as if it had plummeted twenty degrees.
“Never thought I’d be glad t’ see the rain,” said Tom, grinning as the water ran off his hat and nose.
Sebastian drew up near the arched entrance to the Bell’s yard. “There’s no doubt the city can use a good cleaning.” He handed the reins to the boy and hopped down. “In more ways than one.”
It was raining harder now, the clouds bunching up thick and dark overhead, the wind gusting enough to try to grab the door to the taproom when Sebastian pushed it open and walked into an atmosphere redolent with the smell of wet wool and beer. The room was crowded, for the rain had driven a score or more of men inside, their coats and hats sodden, the men laughing as they wiped shining, wet faces and called for ale or wine. A comely girl of about sixteen was behind the bar, her hair as fair as that of the towheaded child Sebastian had once seen playing with a ball in the inn’s yard.
“Is Titus Poole around?” he asked, pushing his way through the crowd to the bar.
The girl glanced up from filling a clutch of tankards. She did not smile, and something about the way she stiffened told Sebastian she was not overly fond of her stepfather. “He was here a bit ago. I think he said something about going out to the stables.”
“Thank you,” said Sebastian. But she was already turning away.
The Bell’s stables were ranged along the far side of a yard running deep with water, with more falling every second from the angry sky. Sebastian suspected Tom was regretting his enthusiastic welcoming of the rain.
He found the stable doors standing open wide. Inside, a lantern had been lit against the gloom, casting a pool of golden light in which the inn’s master stood in conversation with an ostler. The roar of the rain masked Sebastian’s footsteps so that he’d reached the doorway before Poole turned away from the ostler and saw him. For an instant, the disgraced Runner checked. Then he came on, his bull-like head thrust forward with the arrogant belligerence of a man who’s spent his life using his size to intimidate his fellows.
“What ye doin’ back here?” he growled, drawing up some five feet away, his big hands dangling at his sides alternately opening and closing into fists.
Sebastian had paused just inside the doorway, the rain dripping from his hat and running in a cascade of rivulets from the caped shoulders of his driving coat. “I thought you might like to know that I’ve come to the conclusion you probably didn’t kill Nicholas Hayes.”
Poole’s eyes narrowed, as if to better hide any betraying emotions that might lurk there. “Oh, ye have, have ye? And ye thought this might be of interest to me why?”
Sebastian let his gaze drift around the warm, golden-lit stables, taking in the row of stalls filled with horses now munching on oats, the pitchforks and other tools arrayed along a nearby wall, the ostler watching silently from the shadows. The lad was young, probably no more than eighteen, with the same pale blond hair as the girl in the taproom. Sebastian wondered if he shared his sister’s opinion of their stepfather.
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Sebastian. “I still think you were hired to at least follow