A conspiracy of paper: a novel - By David Liss Page 0,8

his face but bravely withstood the pain. Blood flowed freely from a fresh cut above his left eye, yet he proved a spirited warrior and remained in the game long enough that a parish watchman, lantern raised, appeared at the end of the street. The Mohocks, spotting this guardian, chose to discontinue their sport, and the two upright villains gathered their fallen comrades and hobbled off to tend their wounds and invent stories that might account for their bruises.

As the watchman neared, I approached my fellow-battler, and held his shoulders to steady him. Through tired eyes, made hazy with blood and perspiration, he stared hard and then offered me an exuberant grin. “Benjamin Weaver,” he spouted. “The Lion of Judah! Why, I never thought I’d see you fight again. And certainly not at this proximity.”

“Nor did I plan to,” I said, catching my breath. “But I am glad to have been of some service to a man in distress.”

“Gladder than you know,” he assured me, “for I should be damned for a servant of Satan himself if I did not reward your valor as it deserves. Give me your hand, sir.” This unfortunate now introduced himself as Hosea Bohun, and begged that I come to see him the next day that he might do me some small service to show his gratitude. By that time the watchman had reached us—a scraggly fellow, hardly fit for his duties. Having lost the assailants, the watchman thought it a very fine idea to carry the victims to the Compter as punishment for being out upon the street after curfew, but Mr. Bohun made liberal application of the names of his friends, including the Lord Mayor, and sent the watchman on his way.

The next day I discovered that I had been lucky enough to give vital aid to an opulently wealthy East India merchant, and at Mr. Bohun’s splendid town house, this grateful man rewarded me with a sum no smaller than a hundred pounds, and a promise to be of service to me if he ever had occasion. And indeed he was of service to me, for the story of how he had been set upon by Mohocks, and how he had been lucky enough to battle them with Benjamin Weaver by his side, made its way into the papers. Soon thereafter I had visits from other men—some genteel, some poor, but all with offers to pay me for my skills. One gentleman planned a trip to his country estate, and he wished me to ride along to protect him and his goods from highwaymen. Another man was a shopkeeper whose premises had regularly been set upon by rascals; he wished me to spend some time in his shop and await the villains, whom I would recompense for their tricks. Yet another wished me to collect a debt of an elusive fellow who had successfully dodged the bailiffs for more than a year’s time. Perhaps the most significant request—one that again landed my name in the papers—was from an impoverished woman whose only daughter, not twelve years of age, had been attacked in the most scandalous manner by a sailor. There had been witnesses to the attack, but this woman could neither find them nor learn the whereabouts of the sailor himself. I soon discovered that it was only a small matter to ask questions, to listen to the talkative talk, and to follow trails left by unthinking culprits. This sailor, as my readers may know, was convicted of a rape, and I myself had the pleasure of seeing him hang at Tyburn.

And so began my work as protector, guardian, bailiff, constable-forhire, and thief-taker. It was this last duty that I had found most lucrative, for by bringing felons to justice I received not only the reward of my hirer but also the considerable forty-pound reward of the state as well. Three or four such bounties over the course of a year amounted to a handsome wage for a man of my station.

I say with some pride that I quickly built a reputation for honesty, for it is well known that thief-takers are in general the most wretched of villains who care not for the guilt or innocence of the poor sod they drag before the magistrate, only for the reward that comes of conviction. When I set up my trade, I let it be known that I would have nothing to do with thief-takers’ tricks, and I concerned myself only with capturing