The Wool’s FleeceStanding in the lee of a projecting upper storey, Ned pretended to lean against the wall and clean frozen street muck off his shoe, while his servant still holding the sputtering link light stood out in the lane. Pretty standard behaviour for most gentlemen—they’d shelter in comfort awaiting while the minions suffered the cold and the rain. As a piece of scene setting Ned thought it perfect even though Rob had voiced a pointed reminder of the perishing cold. He needed to watch the tavern for a few minutes before putting his cozenage into play. There was the usual beggar huddled under a half collapsed lean–to across the lane. That was to be expected in the Liberties, no doubt another pair of hired ‘eyes’ for Earless Nick. Most establishments under his ‘patronage’ had at least one nearby to report the comings and goings so as to speedily informing their lord and master on the departure of any likely targets for ‘tithing’. Apart from the defacto gateman The Wool’s Fleece looked pretty much the same as it had two years ago.
