At the Dying of the Year by Chris Nickson

you enjoy it?’
    â€˜Not especially. I only went because my factor’s been saying for years that I should see it. I finally gave in.’ He snorted. ‘I lost a guinea and came home with blood on my coat from the damn bird. Anyway, what does that have to do with those children?’
    â€˜You’ve seen the posters the city put up?’
    â€˜Of course. I’ve given a pound towards the reward myself. Fenton came calling on me for money.’
    The man had complete confidence, Nottingham thought. Pride seemed to seep from every pore. Most people would be nervous if the law came asking questions, but Darden acted as if it was the most normal conversation in the world, with nothing at all to hide.
    â€˜It’s brought out plenty of people wanting the reward and giving us names.’
    â€˜I still don’t see how that brings you here, Constable.’
    â€˜Yours was one of the names.’
    For a second the man’s face darkened, as if his temper was about to explode. Then he gave a long, deep laugh. ‘Me? And you believed them?’
    â€˜We’re following up on everything,’ Nottingham said genially.
    â€˜Well, there’s nothing here for you. If you don’t believe I was at the cockfight, ask my factor, Mr Howard, or whoever it is that owns the Talbot. They’ll tell you.’
    â€˜I will,’ the Constable promised and smiled. ‘After all, I have to do my job.’
    Darden stared at him as if trying to see a deeper meaning in the words, then gave a curt nod. ‘Next time try using a little intelligence, though. You should know better than to suspect a man like me. Good day, Constable. I don’t imagine you’ll need to return here.’
    Outside, the fog wreathed around him as he walked. Darden had attempted to be polite, but there had been something beneath that, a deep disregard, arrogance, as if the man had believed himself above everything. He’d never asked about the children, never mentioned them, as if their deaths were nothing at all to him.
    And he’d lied about being at the cockfight, the Constable was certain of that, just as he was sure that if he returned to the Talbot tomorrow, Bell would remember that the merchant had been there after all. And Solomon Howard was Darden’s factor, the man closest to him. He’d worked for and with the man for years now; he’d say whatever he was bidden to say.
    In his gut he now believed that Darden was Gabriel. Proving it – even being allowed to try – would be another matter altogether. And the man knew that full well. He believed he was untouchable.
    â€˜John, I want Holden watching Darden every day. He’s the best we have. Tell Rob to assign another of the men to cover nights.’
    â€˜Yes, boss.’ He hesitated. ‘Are you sure it’s him?’
    â€˜I am,’ Nottingham replied with certainty. He frowned. ‘He’s clever, though. Didn’t even blink at the questions, answered everything perfectly naturally. And at the end warned me not to come back.’
    â€˜What? He threatened?’
    The Constable shook his head. ‘Nothing as obvious as that. He just gave me a very strong hint that I should consider him above suspicion.’
    â€˜So how are we going to prove any of this, boss?’
    â€˜I’m going to find Caleb and have the lad take a look at him. He’s seen Gabriel, he can tell me if it’s Darden.’
    â€˜And if it isn’t?’
    â€˜It is,’ Nottingham said.
    â€˜What about all these people giving us names? If I’ve had one this morning, I’ve had twenty of them.’
    â€˜Do what you can and pass the rest to the men to look into. They’ll all come to nothing, anyway.’
    â€˜What about the mayor?’
    â€˜I’ll tell him we’re looking at everything.’ He gave a sly grin. ‘It’ll be the truth. We will be, just not quite the way he