A Sudden, Fearful Death

"Do I?" Her eyes widened and there was a smile on her lips, but it was fixed, and already there was something dead in it. "That too is slanderous, Mr. Monk."

"You knew he performed abortions, and you could testify of it," he said very levelly. "Your word would not be slander, because you have all the facts, dates, names, details."

"Even if I had such knowledge"-she was gazing at him without a flicker, her eyes boring into his-"surely you would not expect me to condemn myself by saying so? Why on earth should I?"

He smiled too, a slow showing of the teeth.

"Because if you do not, I shall make it known to all the right people in society-a whisper, a laugh, a word hushed as you approach-that you were his first patient…"

Her face did not alter. She was not frightened.

"When you came back from the Indies," he went on relentlessly. "And that your child was negroid."

All the color fled from her skin and he heard the gasp of her indrawn breath and then a choking in her throat.

"Is that slanderous too, Lady Ross Gilbert?" he said between his teeth. "Take me to court and sue me! I know the nurse who put the child into the rubbish and threw it away."

She gave a harsh cry which was strangled in her throat before it was out.

"On the other hand," he went on, "should you testify against Sir Herbert, that you referred desperate women to him, whom you could name did not discretion prevent you, and upon whom he performed abortions, then I shall forget I ever knew of such a thing-and you will never hear from me, or from the nurse, again."

"Won't I?" she said with desperate, vicious disbelief. "And what is to stop you coming back again and again- for money, or whatever it is you want?"

"Madam," he said icily, "apart from your testimony, you have nothing I want."

She reached forward and slapped him as hard as she could.

He almost lost his balance from the force of it, and his cheek burned where her open hand had struck him, but he smiled very slowly.

"I am sorry if that disappoints you," he said softly. "Be in court tomorrow. Mr. Rathbone will call you-for the defense, of course. How you manage to impart your information is up to you." And with a very slight bow he walked past her to the door, through the hallway, and out into the street.

* * * * *

The trial was all but over. The jury was bored. They had already reached their verdict in their own minds and could not understand why Rathbone was calling more witnesses to testify to what everyone already believed. Sir Herbert was a paragon of professional virtue and a tediously correct man in his personal and domestic life. Lovat-Smith was openly irritated. The public was restless. For the first time since the trial began, there were even empty seats in the gallery.

Judge Hardie leaned forward, his face creased with impatience.

"Mr. Rathbone, the court is always inclined to give whatever leniency it can to an accused man, but you appear to be wasting our time. Your witnesses are all saying the same thing, and the prosecution has not contested it. Is it really necessary to continue?"

"No, my lord," Rathbone conceded with a smile. As soon as he spoke the quality of suppressed excitement in his voice caused a ripple of movement in the room, a shifting, a straightening as the tension sharpened again. "I have only one more witness, whom I trust will complete my case."

"Then call him, Mr. Rathbone, and proceed," Hardie said sharply.

"I beg leave to recall Lady Berenice Ross Gilbert," Rathbone said loudly.

Lovat-Smith frowned and leaned forward.

Sir Herbert was still smiling in the dock. Only the faintest shadow crossed his eyes.

"Lady Berenice Ross Gilbert!" the clerk called out, and the cry was taken up and echoed into the hallway.

She came in white-faced, her head held high, and she looked neither to right nor left as she crossed the floor to the witness stand, climbed the steps, and turned to face Rathbone. Just once she glanced across at the dock, but her expression was unreadable. If she had noticed Philomena Stanhope on the gallery public benches, she gave no indication.

She was reminded that she was still under oath.

"I am aware of that," she said. "I have no intention to tell other than the truth!"

"You are the last witness I am calling to testify to the character and qualities of the man the prosecution has accused." Rathbone walked into the center of the floor gracefully, elegantly, and stood for an instant smiling up at the dock. He met Sir Herbert's eyes, and Sir Herbert saw for an instant that there was triumph in him, that the anger was gone, and his own composure flickered for a second. Then the certainty returned, and he smiled back.

"Lady Ross Gilbert"-Rathbone looked back at her- "you have served excellently on the Board of Governors of the hospital for some time. Have you been acquainted with Sir Hertiert during all these years?"

"Naturally."

"Only professionally, or do you know him personally as well?"