Blood Diamond: A Pirate Devlin Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

birds, even their wives and children. The families would hang around waiting for their men to pay their debts either to the king or ‘Jack Ketch’ – whoever came first to claim their due.
    Devlin banged again and the weary bulk of Thomas Langley, sub-turnkey, scraped itself from its stool and tankard to waddle to the trap in the door of the hold.
    Mrs Spurling, purveyor of watery brandy, called after him.
    ‘Thomas! Be leaving him whoever he is. You be done for the day!’
    He waved her down with a flap of his hand. ‘No bones, woman. I’m sub-, day and night. I’ll quiet him down anyways.’
    Devlin heard and stepped back from the small wooden hatch lest a hardened bull’s pizzle greet him with a stab to his eye. The door slid aside; Thomas Langley’s slothful face filled the gap and squinted at the figure in white shirt, now almost blue in the evening light.
    ‘Cease prisoner! What ails?’
    Devlin could see nothing but the pale unshaven face and the small eyes shaded by the fur of eyebrows that even covered Thomas’s eyelids.
    ‘Where am I?’
    ‘You are in Newgate’s lodge, squire. Until such time as your disposition is assessed and your garnish paid.’
    ‘ Garnish ?’
    Thomas sighed deeply. ‘Your garnish. Payment for candles, rent, food. Don’t be thinking you’re staying in Newgate without dues. But I gathers that Jon Wild brought you in with no coin so you best be hoping that some soul be trotting along tomorrow to garnish you himself.’
    ‘That man, Wild, stole my coin.’
    ‘Aye, maybe so, but what does that matter if you killed one of his? Reckon that’s a poor purse for a man’s life and I reckon the Justice tomorrow will see it the same, don’t you?’
    Devlin saw Thomas’s eyes glint, and imagined that his unseen fist was tightening around his bludgeon.
    ‘And what if I can’t pay?’
    Thomas shrugged. ‘You ain’t no debtor. Murder’s for felons. So it’s the Common Side for you. And if you can’t pay no garnish for the Common Side . . . ain’t no hope for you in Newgate, squire.’ He began to close the partition then paused with a happier tone. ‘You’re lucky it’s Monday. Hanging’s already done. You’ve got a week to live at least. Though it be a long one!’
    Devlin came close to the door, his hard eyes staying Thomas’s hand to keep the small gap open a while longer.
    ‘Who determines my ability to pay, Turnkey? Who rules this place?’
    ‘That be Mister Rowse and Mister Perry. The principals. As I said, hangings is today and they ain’t back yet. You’ll see them tomorrow, afore the Justice.’ Again he went to slam the wood back but Devlin came closer still and his hands pushed against the door so hard that Thomas saw the dust shake from the hinges. Thomas raised his weapon in his fist despite the wooden and iron door between them, which his malice penetrated as Devlin’s voice blew hot on his face.
    ‘I’m warning, Turnkey: no good will come from keeping me here. If your principals return tonight it will be best for you if you send them to me.’ He repeated the crucial aspect.
    ‘Best for you.’
    He turned away and let the words hang in the air – appropriate for such surroundings.
    ‘Bring me water, food, and some light, or I will let it be known I was neglected.’ The panel began to slide shut, Devlin timing his last words to the movement. ‘You may leave, Turnkey.’ And then Devlin began to walk, a thinking, rattling circle around his cell that barely faded as Thomas went back to his beer, at first with a sneer and then thoughtful, pondering on the cut of the prisoner’s damask waistcoat and Holland-tailored shirt.
    But those brown bucket boots were old and worn. As old as a conquistador’s. And that tanned face belonged to no sitting gentleman but a man of the sea or field. Thomas drank with a snort. ‘“You may leave, Turnkey!”’ he mocked through his beer but thought on, slower, his eyes back to the door and his ears to the scraping