Jack Daw Part Seven

It took four months for Ludovico to fully heal, and each day the inspector (whose name was Bentley) came by and talked to him for a while, about his life, and his plans, and each day he left with the same admonition:
“If you remember anything, anything at all, about the men who tried to hang you, you let me know, you see?”
But Ludovico held his silence. He told the inspector about his young life on the wagons, about the wolves who had attacked the Romany family, and killed most of them, and he told how his mother had swam with him in the frigid water of a river to a small island, with the wolves on the shore until dawn, when they had fled, whimpering. He told of the strange and probably crazy old man who had taught him how to fight, and more importantly, WHY to fight.
And he told an abbreviated version of his capture of Slate Jack Arell, the man who had stolen Clayton Danziger’s pearl-handled Parthian rapier, and his daughter’s virtue at the same time. He told how he had used Jack Daw’s reputation to smoke the man out, and then poisoned him into unconsciousness and brought him to Danziger for the reward.
But he didn’t mention the woman and her boy, and he didn’t say what his plans were once he had recovered.
His dreams were filled with faces, and vengeance.
He saw the other faces, the woman and her son, almost every day now. He would look out the window and they would be looking in, or he would see them in the mirror standing behind him, or just as a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.
At first he had nearly jumped out of his skin, but the faces faded quickly if he noticed them, and he became almost used to it by the time he had recuperated. He knew it was his guilty conscience, but he banished it from his mind. He would have time for regrets when he had dealt with his attackers.
When finally the day came where he could make a full stretch without pain, and he could talk without problem, though his voice was a little huskier than it had been before, the inspector visited for the last time.
“I know there are things you have told me, Tiger,” (the inspector had taken to calling him tiger, for the similarity to his last name, but he disliked it intensely) “and despite my wishes, I can’t hold you any longer in good conscience. So let me just say this.” The inspector braced his back slightly, and a grim expression came over his face. “If I catch you involved in an illegal act, I will have to hang you, and this time for good. Any affection I may have for you will not sway me in my duty.”
Ludovico realized that the inspector actually had a tear in his eye, and started to say something, but he was interrupted.
“No- that is all I will say. Good bye, sir.” And the inspector walked out.