"You been doin' the job what I pays you for?" Bill Sykes wrapped his arm around his companion's shoulders, catching the man as he walked down the street.

"Sure. Follows the old girl." Jack Dawkins tried to say it as casually as possible, though he knew. He knew Bill would want to know what he'd learned. But he wouldn't tell him. Oh, no sir.

The Artful Dodger remained silent.

"Playing me false, is she?" Bill asked. Dodger shook his head.

"No, not 'er. True as ole Bullseye, Nance. I'll 'ave a bit o' me pay now, if ya don't mind." He looked up at Bill, but didn't make another move.

"You hidin' something?" Bill looked doubtful.

"No!" Dodger snapped.

"You tell me what she's been up to, then."

"Nothin'!" Dodger yelled, louder. Bill grabbed Dodger's shoulders, and slammed him up against a nearby wall.

"I'll kill ya. Been meaning to kill you for years. Now, tell me! Or say your prayers."

Dodger glared back at him. What should he say?

"I's already told ya. She ain't been up to nothin'!" Dodger raised his voice, causing passerby to stop and stare. Bill glanced around and walked off, yanking Dodger along by his jacket.

"We'll continue this conversation back at my place."

"Sounds like fun," Dodger murmured as he struggled, to no avail. Finally giving up, he was dragged back to Sykes's abode.

----x--X--x----

"You be a good boy, now, Oliver!"

Nancy hugged the boy one last time.

"I'll be good, Nancy. I promise." Oliver said, as he was led away by his cousin and grandfather. Oliver turned, waved, and disappeared into the crowd. She gave a deep sigh of relief. Bill hadn't caught on. She started to make her way back before she heard someone speaking.

"Mr. Brownlow, you know of court and all, right, sir?"

"Yes, my lad. Why?"

"I've a friend, see. Says he wants to be a pickpocket all his life, but I don't believe him. He's far too kind, sir. Is there anyway he could be free to find a home? I don't want to see poor old Dodger in jail."

The group were out of earshot before Nancy could hear Mr. Brownlow's response, but she had tears in her eyes. Little Oliver…sweet little Oliver, to think of Dodger like that. Nancy smiled. She would have to tell him herself.

----x--X--x----

"TELL ME!"

Bill aimed another kick at Dodger, who lay on the ground. Insolent lad…what did he have to do to make him talk?

Dodger lifted his bruised, bloody face.

"I's told ya," he rasped, standing up and leaning his side on a table. Bill had overpowered him and tied his wrists, leaving him a human punching bag. "I don't knows nothin'."

"Oh, you don't, do ya?!" Bill reached out to a nearby table, swiping a knife that had been resting on it. Immediately, Dodger's eyes widened in fear. Bill walked towards him, fingering the knife.

"Now, tell me what you know."

Dodger swallowed, taking a few steps back. "I…I…I don't know nothin', sir. I's already told ya."

He tried to flee, but Bill grabbed him, holding him off the ground. "That's it. I'm finished with you, boy!"

----x--X--x----

Nancy continued to walk back until she was close to Bill's living quarters. She found that a large crowd of people had gathered on the side of a street.

"What's happened to 'im?"

"Don't know. Looks like he just tripped and cracked his skull."

"Is he dead?"

"Yep. Cold as stone."

"But who is 'e?"

The crowd murmured amongst themselves. Nancy tried to weave through to see what was going on.

A group of police officers were standing around the body of a large man. They were blocking the face of the man, however, from Nancy's view.

"Hey, I know 'im! That's ole Bill Sykes!"

Nancy's breath caught in her throat. Bill? She shoved her head through the crowd.

Sure enough, there was Bill, lying on the ground. He had a cut on his temple, and blood was pooling around him on the street.

Then, Nancy looked closer.

His knuckles were bloody, and so were the tips of his boots. Then, she spotted it.

A bloody knife in his hand.

Nancy gasped. Had he been in a fight? No, she realized. There wasn't a bruise on him. He must've been beating someone else. But, who?

One officer rolled over Bill's body, revealing what was in his left hand. Nancy held her hands to her face in horror.

Clutched in Bill's hand was a brown, bloody top hat. Nancy could only mutter one word.

"Dodger."