Jack Daw Part Six

The inspector nearly fell forward over Jack’s shoulder as he finished his sentence, but caught himself and spluttered indignantly at the idea. “Preposterous! Here you stand before me, and no tricks will get you out of a trial, sir! Furthermore-, ” but he stopped and stared as ‘Jack’ slowly pulled the beard away from his chin. There was a kind of tacky substance holding it on, he saw, and its fierce bushiness had concealed the edges, where it might have been easier to spot as a fake.
Despite realizing that ‘Jack’ was a disguise, he jumped again when the man in the bed began to pull at his scar, which came off as well. It peeled up, leaving a red mark where the skin had been runneled up in a faux scar tissue ridge. When beard and scar were gone, and the former ‘Jack’ had rubbed the rawness out of his face, the inspector seemed to see a totally different person. Whereas the criminal Jack Daw was an obvious rogue, with an ill-omened look about him, as if he might suddenly knife you at any turn, the face now revealed showed only deep caring, hidden sadness, and obvious pain from his injuries.
“Good god, man… Ahhh, so who, I mean why would those posters be there…?” The inspector looked from the discarded beard and scar-glue to the face of the wounded stranger.
May I ask first how it is that I am still alive? I still remember… up to the hanging. And a knife coming out of me.
The stranger smiled his grim smile again, and for a second he looked more roguish… almost like Jack Daw.
“Ahh, yes, well, the men who had hung and stabbed you fled when we approached… We were out on one of the lord’s patrols, you see, and we heard the laughter from the road. But the blackguards heard us coming and took to their heels. One of them like to have stabbed you, though, and did a right job of it. Lucky for you we keep a healer along, and he was able to patch you up, else you’d have been dead for sure.”
The inspector looked discomfited for a second, then continued, somewhat slower and in a lower voice. “The fact is, sir, we’d probably not have done for your wounds, if a lad hadn’t recognized you and brought up there might be a reward.”
The stranger started to laugh and immediately stopped, his face white and pained. The inspector quickly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back flat.
“Mustn’t exert yourself too much, you know, what with that wound in your chest, you see. And stay straight as much as possible, the more you bend the worse you’ll feel.”
The stranger looked around hopelessly for a way to write in that position until the inspector went and grabbed the guard’s shield and held it at an angle for him.
Thank you. So what now?
“First I’d like to ask what your name is. Your real name.” The inspector watched his face while he wrote, but he displayed no emotion.
Ludovico Taigur, of the Rom.
When the inspector glanced down at the parchment he almost dropped the guard’s shield. “Romany! But you’re not… But you’re disguised, aren’t you? So, maybe…” He looked closely at Ludovico’s face, “Yes, the bone structure, if you look closely… and your nose, now that I’m not looking at the scar and the beard.
“Well, being a Rom isn’t a crime, I suppose, though some might say otherwise.”
There is good and bad amongst my people, but I have committed no crimes here other than putting up some posters.
As he wrote, two faces swam in Ludovico’s vision, but he blinked them away.
“Well, if you’re telling it true, we don’t have anything to hold you on. We’ll check with his lordship, of course. But your disguise was pretty convincing, it was. Ahhh, and of course we’ll keep you here long enough to heal, you see. But after that you’ll be free to go.”
Thank you again. For now I think sleep will help me best.
“Ahh, yes, quite right.” The inspector gave a last nod to Ludovico, handed the shield back to the guard, and left, but Ludovico was asleep before the door had closed.