Jack Daw Part Five

Once again Jack was surprised to find himself returning to consciousness. But the burning ache in his chest and his inability to draw a full breath convinced him.
Reluctantly he opened his eyes. He lay in a clean-looking room on a white bed. Ugly-looking black candles burned on either side of him, exuding a pleasant sweet odor.
There was an armed guard at the single door leading out, and when he saw Jack open his eyes, he knocked on the door behind him. In a few seconds a man in an inspector’s uniform came in.
“Mr. Daw. How good of you to wake up.”
For a second Jack started, but this man’s voice was totally unlike the man with the cane’s, even if he had been disguising it. He shook off the memory and listened.
“I have been hoping to get my hands on you for some time, Mr. Jack Daw. You have been a very naughty boy, according to reports.” The inspector preened a bit at this and reflexively twisted the end of his long handlebar moustache. “But I warrant you’ll not be causing any more trouble in MY town, no sir.”
Jack thought he might want to stop this line of thought before it went too far. He started to speak, but gagged instead. He quickly discovered that if he breathed slowly it was no problem, but if he tried to talk he was in trouble.
“Ahh, yes.” The inspector looked slightly dismayed. “The healers told me you would have difficulty speaking for a while. It will make a confession difficult, no doubt.” He looked saddened at having to wait.
Jack made a flourishing motion with his right hand while holding his left underneath it. The inspector was quick to pick up on his meaning, and perked right up.
“Yes, you could write it down! Excellent idea, that! Let me just have this chap …” Here the inspector conferred with the guard and the guard left, coming back in a minute or so with some parchment, a quill, and a vial of ink.
Jack pulled the parchment towards him and uncorked the ink. He dipped the quill in the ink and gave it a quick tap on the edge of the bottle to clear the excess ink. With perfect calligraphy, he began to write as the inspector watched, fascinated.
On what charges do you wish to arrest Jack Daw?
He started to turn the paper for the inspector, but the inspector came around to his shoulder to read it.
“Ahhh, well, on charges of theft, extortion, and murder, of course. There are wanted posters for you all over town, you see.” The inspector seemed confused as Jack smiled grimly.
Who put up those posters?
The inspector looked at what he had written for a moment before replying. “Well, ahhh, the lord’s men put them up-“ here he checked himself, “But… well, they haven’t been around lately, you see.” The inspector frowned. This was not going according to plan. He leaned back against the wall in thought, then pushed forward again when Jack started writing once more.
Consider the fact that it was NOT the lord’s men that put up those posters. Consider the fact that the crimes of which they speak are fabricated.
Consider the fact that there IS NO Jack Daw.