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“You think there was something unnatural about his patient’s death that night? I doubt it. Lots of people die unexpectedly. You think they’re recovering, and suddenly they don’t. Anyway, how would Prudence know anything was wrong? If he had made a mistake in front of her, she would have told him and corrected it. He wasn’t operated on that night.”
“Nothing to do with that night.” He took her elbow to guide her across the path out of the way of a man walking briskly about some business.
If it had been a protective gesture she would have welcomed it, but it was officious, impatient instead, as if she were unable to take care of herself. She pulled away sharply.
“She knew something which he begged her not to take to the authorities, and she refused him,” he went on regardless.
“That doesn’t sound like Prudence as I knew her,” she said instantly. “It must have been something very serious. She loathed authorities and had the utmost contempt for them. Anyone has who’s been with the army! Are you sure you have that correctly?”
“The quarrel was overheard,” he replied. “She said she would go to the authorities, and Beck pleaded with her not to. She was adamant.”
“But you don’t know what about?” she pressed.
“No of course I don’t.” He glared at her. “If I knew, I’d tackle Beck over it. Probably be able to tell Jeavis and have him arrested, which would hardly please Callandra. I think her main purpose in employing me is to prove it was not Beck. She holds him in great regard.”
She was spoiling for a quarrel, but this was not the time; there was too much else more important than new emotions.
“Are you afraid it is he?” she said quietly.
He did not look at her. “I don’t know. The field does not seem very wide. Did she quarrel with any of the nurses? I don’t imagine she was popular, if her ideas of reform are anything like yours. I expect she infuriated several of the doctors. You certainly did, in your short stay in office.”
Her good resolution died instantly.
“If you infuriate a doctor, he dismisses you!” she replied sharply. “It doesn’t make sense to kill someone when there is such an easy way, without any risk to yourself, to get rid of her and at the same time make her suffer!”
He grunted. “You have a concise and logical mind. Which is useful—but unattractive. I wonder if she was the same? What about the nurses? Would they have disliked her equally?”
She felt hurt, which was ridiculous. She already knew he liked women to be feminine, vulnerable, and mysterious. She remembered how he had been charmed by Imogen, her sister-in-law. Although as she knew very well, under Imogen’s gentle manner there was no foolish or yielding woman, just one who knew how to comport herself with grace and allure. That was an art she was devoid of, and at this moment its absence was stupidly painful.
“Well?” he demanded. “You’ve seen them at work, you must have an idea.”
“Some of them worshiped her,” she said swiftly, her chin held high, her step more determined. “Others, fairly naturally, were jealous. You cannot succeed without running into risk of jealousy. You should know that!”
“Jealous enough to call it hatred?” He was being logical, unaware of any feelings.
“Possibly,” she said, equally reasonably. “There is a very strong large woman called Dora Parsons who certainly loathed her. Whether it was enough to have killed her, I have no idea. Seems extreme—unless there was some specific issue.”
“Had Prudence the power to have this woman dismissed if she were incompetent, or drunk—or if she stole?” He looked at her hopefully.
“I imagine so.” She picked up her skirts delicately as they passed a patch of long grass by the path. “Prudence worked closely with Sir Herbert. He spoke very highly of her to me. I imagine he would take her word for such a thing.” She let her skirts fall again. “Certainly Dora Parsons is the sort of woman who could be very easily replaced. There are thousands like her in London.”
“And very few indeed like Prudence Barrymore,” he finished the thought. “And presumably several more like Dora Parsons even within the Royal Free Hospital. So that thought is hardly conclusive.”
They walked in silence for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts. They passed a man with a dog, and two small boys, one with a hoop, the other with a spinning top on a string, looking for a level place in the path to pull it. A young woman looked Monk up and down admiringly; her escort sulked. At length it was Hester who spoke.
“Have you learned anything?”
“What?”
“Have you learned anything?” she repeated. “You must have been doing something over the last week. What is the result?”
Suddenly he grinned broadly, as if the interrogation amused him.
“I suppose you have as much right t
o know as I,” he conceded. “I have been looking into Mr. Geoffrey Taunton and Miss Nanette Cuthbertson. She is a more determined young woman than I first supposed. And she seems to have had the most powerful motive of all for wishing to be rid of Prudence. Prudence stood between her and love, respectability, and the family status she wishes for more than anything else. Time is growing short for her—very short.” They had momentarily stopped under the trees and he put his hands in his pockets. “She is twenty-eight, even though she is still remarkably pretty. I imagine panic may be rising inside her—enough to do violence. If only I could work out how she achieved it,” he said thoughtfully. “She is not as tall as Prudence by some two inches, and of slight build. And even with her head in the academic clouds, Prudence cannot surely have been so insensitive as to have been unaware of Nanette’s emotions.”
Hester wanted to snap back that twenty-eight was hardly ancient—and of course she was still pretty. And might well remain so for another twenty years—or more. But she felt a ridiculous tightening in her throat, and found the words remained unspoken. It hardly mattered if twenty-eight were old or not—if it seemed old to him. You cannot argue someone out of such a view.
