A Sudden, Fearful Death

"You'll be remembered too, Monk, not among the great and famous, not among gentlemen-but here in the police station. You'll be remembered with fear-by the ordinary P.C.s you bullied and made miserable, by the men whose reputations you destroyed because they weren't as ruthless as you or as quick as you thought they should be. You ever read your Bible, Monk? 'How are the mighty fallen?' Remember that?" His smile widened. "Oh, they'll talk about you in the public houses and on the street corners, they'll say how good it is now you're gone. They'll tell the new recruits who complain that they don't know they're born. They should see what a real hard man is-a real bully." The smile was all the way to his eyes. "Give me the letters, Monk, and go and get on with your prying and following and whatever it is you do now."

"What I do now is what I have always done," Monk said between his teeth, his voice choking. "Tidy up the cases you can't manage and clean up behind you!" He thrust the letters out and slammed them on the desk. "I'm not the only one who knows about them, so don't think you can hide them and blame some other poor sod who is as innocent as that poor bloody footman you hanged." And with that he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Runcorn white-faced, his hands shaking.

Chapter 8

Sir Herbert Stanhope was arrested and charged, and Oliver Rathbone was retained to conduct his defense. He was one of the most brilliant lawyers in London and, since Monk's first case after his accident, well acquainted with both Monk and Hester Latterly. To say it was a friendship would be both to understate it and to overstate it. With Monk it was a difficult relationship. Their mutual respect was high; indeed, it amounted to admiration. They also felt a complete trust not only in the competence but each in the professional integrity of the other.

However, on a personal level matters were different. Monk found Rathbone more than a little arrogant and complacent, and he had mannerisms which irritated Monk at times almost beyond bearing. Rathbone, on the other hand, found Monk also arrogant, abrasive, willful, and inappropriately ruthless.

With Hester it was quite different. Rathbone had a regard for her which had grown deeper and more intimate with time. He did not consider her totally suitable as a lifetime companion. She was too opinionated, had very little idea of what it was suitable for a lady to interest herself in-to wit, criminal cases. And yet, curiously, he enjoyed her company more than that of any other woman, and he found himself caring surprisingly deeply what she thought and felt for him. His mind turned to her more often than he could satisfactorily explain to himself. It was disconcerting, but not entirely unpleasant.

And what she thought and felt for him were emotions she had no intention of allowing him to know. At times he disturbed her profoundly-for example, when he had kissed her so suddenly and gently over a year ago. And there had been a sweetness in their time spent at Primrose Hill with his father, Henry Rathbone, whom Hester liked enormously. She would always remember the closeness she had felt walking in the garden in the evening, and the scents of summer in the wind, cut grass and honeysuckle, the leaves of the apple orchard beyond the hedge, dark against the stars.

And yet at the back of her mind mere was always Monk. Monk's face intruded into her thoughts; his voice, and its words, spoke in the silence.

Rathbone was not in the least surprised to receive the call from Sir Herbert Stanhope's solicitors. Such a man would naturally seek the best defense available, and there were many who would aver without question that that was Oliver Rathbone.

He read all the papers and considered the matter with care. The case against Sir Herbert was strong, but far from conclusive. He had had the opportunity, along with at least a score of other people. He had had the means, as did anyone with sufficient strength in his or her hands-and with a group of women like the average nurses, that included almost everyone. The only evidence of motive was the letters written by Prudence Barrymore to her sister-but they were a powerful indictment, uncontested.

Reasonable doubt would be sufficient to gain an acquittal in law and avoid the hangman's noose. But to save Sir Herbert's reputation and honor there must be no doubt at all. That meant he must provide another suspect for the public to blame. They were the ultimate jury.

But first he must seek an acquittal before the court. He read the letters again. They required an explanation, a different interpretation that was both innocent and believable. For that he would have to see Sir Herbert himself.