“Is Holden a violent man?” Bess asked, with her eyes round with pretended interest. “You’d better arrest him, constable, before he murders somebody else.”
“He’s not a native of this parish,” Quinn muttered as he left the inn. “I have no powers elsewhere.” He closed the door with a bang.
“Well done, ladies,” Smith said.
“We look after our own here,” Ruth told him as Bess smiled and drew her foot across the floor. “Quinn’s nobody’s fool, though. He’ll be back.”
“Nobody will talk,” Smith said calmly. He pointed to the red-glassed lantern that hung above the bar, beside the banner of the Dancing horse. “Most have too much loyalty, and the others know of the redcap.”
* * *
Smith did not know who the Knight Templar had been who made his mark at the Templar’s Cross Inn, nor did he care. If
