Pitchfork had been called away to handle other pressing matters for Fairfax, offering Noah a period of respite for which he had been grateful, though it brought guilt with it, of course. For the sooner this grim business reached its conclusion, the sooner he could return to Italy and Sam.
Michael was still in London, having come home for the festive season, which had lifted his spirits though he had confided nothing of what had taken place, just telling him things were progressing well. Which was one way of putting it.
At last, the morning he could not help but dread arrived, and he was to meet with Pitchfork again, this time on Ludgate Hill in the City. They would visit Newgate Prison, located on the corner of Old Bailey Street and Newgate Street. Pitchfork was already waiting for him,
