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She saw him standing outside Sir Herbert Stanhope’s room, looking along the corridor toward her. Presumably he knew where the dormitory was, and thus expected her the way she came.
“Morning, miss,” he said when she was within a few feet of him. He looked her up and down with curiosity. “You’d be Miss Latterly?”
“Yes, Inspector. What may I do for you?” She said it more coolly than she had intended, but something in his manner irritated her.
“Oh yes. You were not here when Miss Barrymore met her death,” he began unnecessarily. “But I understand you served in the Crimea? Perhaps you were acquainted with her there?”
“Yes, slightly.” She was about to add that she knew nothing of relevance, or she would have told him without his asking, then she realized that it was just possible she might learn something from him if she prolonged the conversation. “We served side by side on at least one occasion.” She looked into his dark, almost browless eyes, and unwittingly thought of the bald nurse’s mention of a ferret. It was cruel, but not entirely inappropriate—a dark brown, highly intelligent ferret. Perhaps it was not such a good idea to try misleading him after all.
“Difficult to tell what a woman looked like,” he said thoughtfully, “when you haven’t seen her alive. They tell me she was quite handsome. Would you agree with that, Miss Latterly?”
“Yes.” She was surprised. It seemed so irrelevant. “Yes, she had a very—very individual face, most appealing. But she was rather tall.”
Jeavis unconsciously squared his shoulders. “Indeed. I assume she must have had admirers?”
Hester avoided his eyes deliberately. “Oh yes. Are you thinking such a person killed her?”
“Never mind what we’re thinking,” he replied smugly. “You just answer my questions the best you can.”
Hester seethed with annoyance, and hid it with difficulty. Pompous little man!
“I never knew her to encourage anyone,” she said between stiff lips. “She didn’t flirt. I don’t think she knew how to.”
“Hmm …” He bit his lip. “Be that as it may, did she ever mention a Mr. Geoffrey Taunton to you? Think carefully now. I need an exact, honest answer.”
Hester controlled herself with an intense effort. She wanted to slap him. But this conversation would be worth it if she learned something, however small. She gazed back at him with wide eyes.
“What does he look like, Inspector?”
“It doesn’t matter what he looks like, miss,” he said irritably. “What I want to know is, did she mention him?”
“She had a photograph,” Hester lied without compunction. At least it was a lie in essence. Prudence had had a photograph, certainly, but it was one of her father, and Hester knew that.
Jeavis’s interest was quickened. “Did she, now. What was he like, the man in this photograph?”
This was no use. “Well—er …” She screwed up her face as if in a concentrated effort to find the right words.
“Come on, miss. You must have some idea!” Jeavis said urgently. “Was he coarse or refined? Handsome or homely? Was he clean-shaven, a mustache, whiskers, a beard? What was he like?”
“Oh he was fine-looking,” she prevaricated, hoping he would forget his caution. “Sort of—well—it’s hard to say….”
“Oh yes.”
She was afraid if she did not give him a satisfactory answer soon he would lose interest. “She had it with her all the time.”
Jeavis abandoned patience. “Was he tall, straight hair, regular features, smallish sort of mouth, light eyes, very level?”
“Yes! Yes, that’s who he was, exactly,” she said, affecting relief. “Is that him?”
“Never you mind. So she carried that with her, did she? Sounds like she knew him pretty close. I suppose she got letters?”
“Oh yes, whenever the post came from England. But I didn’t think Mr. Taunton lived in London.”
“He didn’t,” he agreed. “But there are trains, and it’s easy enough to come and go. Trip to Ealing only takes an hour or less. Easy enough to get in and out of the hospital. I’ll have to have a good deal closer talk with Mr. Taunton.” He shook his head darkly. “Nice-looking gentleman like that might have other ladies to set their caps at. Funny he chose to go on with her, even when she worked in a place like this and seemed set to continue with it.”
“Love is funny, Inspector,” Hester said tartly. “And while a great many people marry for other reasons, there are a few who insist on marrying for love. Perhaps Mr. Taunton was one of them?”
“You’ve got a very sharp tongue in your head, Miss Latterly,” Jeavis said with a perceptive look at her. “Was Miss Barrymore like that too? Independent, and a bit waspish, was she?”
