Constant Lovers Read Online Free PDF Page A

been stabbed.’
    â€˜Why?’ he asked, uncomprehending, barely murmuring the words. ‘Why?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I didn’t even know who she was until you arrived.’ He paused, wondering how to phrase the next part. ‘We had to bury her yesterday. The heat  . . .’
    He watched Godlove but the man was too stunned by his wife’s death to take in the fact.
    â€˜Murdered?’ The word came out in wonder and astonishment.
    The Constable stood up and began to pace, the sound of his boot heels hard on the flagstones. He needed the man’s attention. He had a name for the girl now, but he needed more, everything he could learn, and he needed it as quickly as possible.
    â€˜Mr Godlove,’ he said. ‘How was she travelling? Did anyone go with her?’
    The farmer roused himself slowly, as if he’d only heard the words from a far distance. It took him a few moments to collect his thoughts.
    â€˜I’m sorry.’ He gave a weak, polite smile that did nothing to cover his torment. ‘She decided to ride. I have a carriage, but the weather was good and she had a horse she loved. It wasn’t that far.’
    â€˜Who went with her?’
    â€˜Her maid.’
    â€˜Was she on horseback, too?’
    â€˜No,’ Godlove said after a short while, ‘she wouldn’t get on one. She was scared of them.’
    â€˜What’s the maid’s name?’ Nottingham persisted. So now there was someone else to hunt.
    â€˜Anne.’
    â€˜What does Anne look like? How long has she been with you?’
    â€˜She came with Sarah when I married her.’ He was unfocused, drifting away. ‘She’s just a girl, plump, ordinary. Not especially pretty, but not ugly. I—’ He started to speak, then stopped. The Constable waited but he didn’t continue.
    â€˜And what are your wife’s parents called?’
    â€˜Lord and Lady Gibton,’ the man answered.
    Nottingham’s heart sank; it was all he could do not to grimace. The death of someone wealthy was one thing, the murder of an aristocrat was another altogether.
    â€˜I want to take her home. I want to bury her properly,’ Godlove announced with surprising decision.
    â€˜Of course,’ the Constable agreed quickly. ‘I’ll have the parish arrange it.’
    â€˜She was stabbed, you said?’
    â€˜Yes.’ He opened the desk drawer and took out the knife. ‘Have you ever seen this before?’
    Godlove shook his head. He was pale, looking wearied and far older than his years.
    â€˜Can I get you anything?’
    â€˜No.’ The man stood, head hanging down, and the Constable knew he’d have no more information today. ‘I’ll  . . . Can you  . . . ?’
    â€˜I’ll see she’s brought out to you.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    Godlove left slowly, going out into a day the Constable knew he would never be able to forget.
    Nottingham sat back and sighed loudly. With nobility involved he needed to inform the mayor. He waited a few minutes, trying to imagine how he might phrase things, then walked to the Moot Hall. The building dominated Briggate, sitting two storeys tall, square in the middle of the street, the stocks outside the arched front, the road flowing on each side of it like a river. On the ground floor the butchers’ shops were a stink of meat spoiling in the heat, the thick buzzing of flies like a curtain around them that reminded him of the insects heavy around the girl’s body. Nottingham entered through the heavy doors, leaving most of the sound outside, then walked up the polished steps and along a corridor where a thick Turkey carpet muffled his footsteps.
    He knocked on the wooden door and waited for the command to enter. Edward Kenion was behind his desk, as the Constable knew he would be. In less than two months he’d pass the chain of office to his successor, and he already