Page 66 of King's Man

After a silence, Cole said quietly, “Was it him, do you think?”

“What?”

“Was it Tanner who conked you to Bow Street?” He spread his hands defensively at whatever he saw in Sam’s face. “All I'm saying is it’s a bloody big coincidence that he comes looking for you at the Bowl, and then Bow Street happen to be waiting right outside the moment you leave St Giles.”

Sam shook his head; he couldn’t even contemplate the possibility. “Nate wouldn’t do that.”

“Someone gave them your name, Hutch.”

“It was MacLeod. Groves told me.”

“Aye. And who told MacLeod?”

“Not Nate.” Sam got to his feet, pacing to the other side of the cell and back. “He wouldn’t. He despises MacLeod —”

“Last night you told me he was a fucking liar who had your name on a list of traitors. Last night you told me he stood by and watched you get tarred and feathered by a sodding mob. And that don’t seem so different from this.” Cole huffed out a sigh, his expression pitying. “I’m sorry, Hutch, but a leopard doesn’t change his spots.”

“No, you’re wrong. Thatwasdifferent.”

“Was it? How?”

“Because he couldn’t — If he’d spoken up for me in Rosemont, they’d have —” He lowered his voice, glancing at the door. “Ourfriendshipwould have condemned us both. Nate had to stay silent.”

“That ain’t what you said last night.”

“I was angry last night.”

“And now?”

He dropped back onto the bench, returning his gaze to the window. The sun had risen high enough to penetrate the grimy glass, falling in a thick stripe across the flagstones. “Now I don’t care. None of that matters anymore. I just want —”To hold him, to see his smile again. To say goodbye.His throat closed, eyes burning. “I just want him to be safe.”

Cole gave a low whistle and when Sam looked over, he found his friend studying him. “You’re tired. Hungry too, I bet. Here, I brought you some bread.” He produced a muslin-wrapped package from his coat pocket and held it out.

It was a searing kindness, lancing through Sam’s misery to touch his heart. He wasn’t hungry in the same way he wasn’t terrified, but he took the bread anyway. The hunger, like the fear, would come soon enough. “Thank you.”

Cole leaned forward, elbows on knees, gazing down at the floor. After a silence, he said, “I’ve always thought that coves like us should steer well clear of emotional snares. And you’re doing a bloody good job of proving why.” He looked over at him, lips pursed. “Whether he snitched or not, you do know that you’re only in this bloody mess because of Tanner?”

Sam gave a wan smile. “I know. But will you help me anyway?”

“You’re a damned fool, and so am I.” Cole let out a blustery sigh. “But, aye. What can I do?”

“I think MacLeod recognized Nate. That must be how he got my name.” He tried to swallow, but it was difficult around the fear rising in his throat. “MacLeod’s a brutal bastard, Cole. If he got his hands on Nate, if he made him talk —” He grabbed Cole’s arm, the thought of it too awful to bear. “Make sure he’s safe? And if he is, tell him to go. Tell him to run before MacLeod can find him.”

Cole covered Sam’s hand with his own, squeezing. “You know I don’t hold with all this molly nonsense about love and what-have-you. So I wouldn’t say this if I hadn’t seen it with my own bleedin’ eyes, but I met Tanner the night he came to the Bowl. And let me tell you this: his was not the face of a man who’d run.”

Sam’s grip on Cole’s arm hardened. “Thenmakehim.”

Their gaze locked but before Cole could respond, the door opened and the Bow Street man poked his head back inside. “Time’s up.”

Ignoring him, Cole said, “I can’t promise to make him do anything. But if I find him, I’ll tell him what you said. The rest is his own business.” With that, he gave Sam a bracing punch on the shoulder and got to his feet. “Now, keep your pecker up, Hutch. Remember, you’ve got friends in London.”

Sam stared at the door after it closed, listening to the lock turn with a heavy clunk.

Friends in London? Cole meant Hal Foxe, Sam supposed, whose influence stretched to Bow Street but certainly not to Marlborough Castle. Anyway, no amount of grease in the right palm would let Sam slip free this time, because MacLeod needed him to swing for his crime. Just as Taylor had warned, Lord Marlborough made mockery of the law.

As for Nate…

It seemed an age since they’d stood together in the Brewery’s library, Nate pale and drawn as he’d tried desperately to explain himself. And Sam not listening. Refusing to listen, the pain of betrayal so fierce it had burned.

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