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“No, I had not thought of that,” she confessed. “She would have to be most careful, and look without asking. Still, even so, she would be of invaluable assistance to you.”
“You speak as though I were going to take the case.”
“Am I mistaken?” This time it was her victory, and she also knew it.
Again the smile lit his face, showing an unaccustomed gentleness. “No, no you are not. I shall do what I can.”
“Thank you.” She felt a rush of relief which surprised her. “Did I mention it, John Evan is the sergeant assisting Jeavis?”
“No, you did not mention it, but I happened to know that he was working with Jeavis.”
“I thought you might. I am glad you are still keeping your friendship with him. He is an excellent young man.”
Monk smiled.
Callandra rose to her feet and he rose automatically also.
“Then you had better go and see Hester,” she instructed. “There is no time to be lost. I would do it myself, but you can tell her what you wish her to do for you better than I. You may tell her I shall use my influence to see that she obtains a position. They will be looking for someone to take poor Prudence Barrymore’s place.”
“I shall ask her,” he agreed, pulling a slight face. “I promise,” he added.
“Thank you. I shall arrange it all tomorrow.” And she went out of the door as he held it for her, and then through the front door into the warm evening street. Now that there was nothing more that she could do, she felt tired and extraordinarily sad. Her coach was waiting for her and she rode home in somber mood.
Hester received Monk with a surprise which she did not bother to conceal. She led him into the tiny front room and invited him to sit. She looked far less tired today; there was a vigor about her, a good color to her skin. Not for the first time he was aware of how intensely alive she was—not so much physically, but in the mind and in the will.
“This cannot be a social call,” she said with a slight smile of amusement. “Something has happened.” It was a statement, not a question.
He did not bother with prevarication.
“Callandra came to see me earlier this evening,” he began. “This morning there was a nurse murdered in the hospital where she is on the Board of Governors. A nurse from the Crimea, not just a woman to fetch and carry.” He stopped, seeing the shock in her face and quite suddenly realizing that in all probability it was someone she knew, maybe well, someone she might even have cared for. Neither he nor Callandra had thought of that.
“I’m sorry.” He meant it. “It was Prudence Barrymore. Did you know her?”
“Yes.” She took a deep, shaky breath, her face pale. “Not well, but I liked her. She had great courage—and great heart. How did it happen?”
“I don’t know. That is what Callandra wants us to find out.”
“Us?” She looked startled. “What about the police? Surely they have called the police?”
“Yes of course they have,” he said tartly. Suddenly all his old contempt for Runcorn boiled up again, and his own resentment that he was no longer on the force with his rank and power and the respect he had worked so long and hard to earn, even had it been laced with fear. “But she doesn’t have any confidence that they will solve it.”
Hester frowned and looked at him carefully.
“Is that all?”
“All? Isn’t it enough?” His voice rose incredulously. “We have no power, no authority, and there are no obvious answers so far.” He stabbed his finger viciously on the chair arm. “We have no right to ask questions, no access to the police information, medical reports, or anything else. What more do you want to provide a challenge?”
“An arrogant and disagreeable colleague,” she said. “Just to make it really difficult!” She stood up and walked over to the window. “Really, there are times when I wonder how you succeeded for so long in the police.” She looked at him. “Why is Callandra so concerned, and why does she doubt that the police will be able to solve it? Isn’t it a little early to be so skeptical?”
He could feel his body tighten with anger, and yet there was also a strange kind of comfort in being with someone so quick to grasp the essential facts—and the nuances that might in the end matter even more. There were times when he loathed Hester, but she never bored him, nor had he ever found her trivial or artificial. Indeed, sometimes to quarrel with her gave him more satisfaction than to be agreeable with someone else.
“No,” he said candidly. “I think she is afraid they may blame a Dr. Beck because he is a foreigner, and it may well be easier than questioning an eminent surgeon or dignitary With luck it may turn out to have been another nurse”—his voice was hard-edged with contempt—“or someone equally socially dispensable, but it may not. And there are no men in the hospital who are not eminent in some way, either as doctors, treasurers, chaplains, or even governors.”
“What does she think I can offer?” Hester frowned, leaning a little against the windowsill. “I know less of the people of the hospital than she does. London is nothing like Scutari! And I was hardly in any hospital here long enough to learn much.” She pulled a rueful face, but he knew the memory of her dismissal still hurt.
“She wishes you to take a position at the Royal Free.” He saw her expression harden and hurried on. “Which she will obtain for you, possibly even as soon as tomorrow. They will require someone to take Nurse Barrymore’s place. From that position of advantage, you might be able to observe much that would be of use, but you are not to indulge in questioning people.”
“Why not?” Her eyebrows shot up. “I can hardly learn a great deal if I don’t.”
