Boseman’s office was locked tight and Clement did not know where he lived. He approached an old man sitting on a low stool, polishing shoes.
‘Do you know where I might find George Boseman?’
The old shoe black squinted up at him. He pushed at a tin sitting on the path at his feet. Clement fished for a few coins in his pocket, brought out a handful of pennies, and dropped them in.
‘He’s gone to ground. Jim Downs is after his head. And when Jim Downs is after something, he gets it. No one crosses Jimmy and gets away with it.’
‘I have business to discuss with Mr Boseman. Might you know where he’d go to ground?’
The old man raised an eyebrow and glanced at the tin. Clement dropped in two shillings. ‘I’d find someone else to do business with if I were you, but if you’re determined, you migh
