Mosca began to run, but the three news carriers were faster. One piled into a waiting scull and began plying his oars. Another ran to the nearest alehouse, which a moment later spewed out a dozen urchins, all with excited, purposeful faces. The third sprinted to the perilous edge of the jetty, where a coffeehouse was just pulling away, and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Ahoy and Hear Me—The Murderer of Whickerback Point is Uncovered, the Duke’s Men have arrested Mr. Pennymouse Clent, for his bloody slaughter of a Riverboat Radical . . .”

The door of the coffeehouse swung wide, and a gentleman with a tight little bob wig appeared in the gap, steadying himself against the jamb to stop himself tumbling forward into the water. He tossed a pouch of coins to the runner, who was already holding up a hand in readiness. Excited voices were raised inside the coffeehouse, and someone started singing something that sounded like an anthem to freedom.

Mosca realized that the news carrier in the scull had dropped his oars and was standing unsteadily in his boat so that he could call out to the cluster of little boats touching keels around the Sussuratch pillar. His voice was just audible to Mosca as she hitched her skirts and began to run in good earnest.

“Ahoy and Hear Me—The Body of Whickerback Point Revealed to be a Waterman Spy named Pigeon, Horribly Murdered after Discovering a Reeking Radical Plot . . .”

On the street side a rabbit-featured boy in worn boots flung open the door of the Strangled Bird tavern.

“News from the watch, word straight from the Justice of the Peace himself,” he gabbled breathlessly. “A Great Radical Plot to Steal Statues from Every Church an’ Melt ’em Down an’ Pour ’em into Everyone’s Ears while they Sleep . . .” He ducked too slowly to avoid the resultant coin shrapnel hitting him in the face, and had to fight off a swoop of other urchins with an eye to snatching his reward from the mud.

By the time Mosca paused for breath at the corner of East Straddle Street, another boy runner was reciting his message to a gaggle of sedan chairmen waiting outside the Simpering Squirrel.

“. . . an’ then there was a big battle between the Duke’s men an’ the radicals, an’ they had to call in the Watermen to help, but the head of the radicals was this man called Spinymouse Lint, an’ he had this special cannon made so he could put whole statues in it, an’ he fired a statue right through the head of this one Waterman called Pilchard an’ he died right then and there . . .”