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Rathbone looked at the jury. To a man their faces were marked deeply with shock and utter and savage contempt.
The judge banged his gavel again. "I will have order!" he said angrily. "Otherwise the ushers will clear the court!"
Tobias looked across at Rathbone and shook his head.
When the noise subsided, and before Rathbone could speak, Campbell continued. "That must be t
he reason that she was bleeding when Mrs. Anderson found her wandering around on the Heath." He shook his head as if to deny what he was about to say, somehow reduce the harshness of it. "At first I didn’t want to put her out either. She was so young. I thought—one mistake—and it had been a rough abortion— she was still..." He shrugged. Then he raised his head and looked at Rathbone. "But she kept on, always tempting the men, flirting with them, setting one against the other. She enjoyed the power she had over them. I had no choice but to put her out."
There was a murmur of sympathy around the court, and a rising tide of anger also. One or two men swore under their breath. Two jurors spoke to each other. They glanced up at the dock. The condemnation in their faces was unmistakable.
A journalist was scribbling furiously.
Tobias looked at Rathbone and smiled sympathetically, but without hiding his knowledge of his own victory. He asked no quarter for himself when he lost, and he gave none.
"I wish I had not had to say that." Campbell was looking at Rathbone. "I hesitated to tell Harry before because at first I was not even totally sure it was the same person. It seemed incredible, and of course, she had aged a great deal in twenty-three years. I didn’t want to think it was her... you understand that? I suppose I finally acknowledged that it had to be when I saw that she also recognized me."
There was nothing for Rathbone to say, nothing left to ask. It was the last result he could have foreseen, and presumably Hester would feel as disillusioned and as empty as he did himself. He sat down utterly dejected.
Tobias rose and walked into the middle of the floor, swaggering a little. Beating Oliver Rathbone was a victory to be savored, even when it had been ridiculously easy.
"Mr. Campbell, there is very little left for me to ask. You have told us far more than we could have imagined." He looked across at Rathbone. "I think that goes for my learned friend as much as for me. However, I do wish to tidy up any details that there may be ... in case Mrs. Gardiner decides to take the stand herself and make any charges against you, as suggested by Mrs. Anderson—who may be as unaware of Mrs. Gardiner’s youthful exploits as were the rest of us."
Campbell did not reply but waited for Tobias to continue.
"Mrs. Gardiner fled when she realized that you had recognized her—at least that is your assumption?"
"Yes."
"Did you follow her?"
"No, of course not. I had no reason to."
"You remained at the party?"
"Not specifically at the party. I remained at Cleveland Square. I was very upset about the matter. I moved a little farther off in the garden, to be alone and think what to do... and what to say when the rest of the family would inevitably discover that she had gone."
"And what did you decide, Mr. Campbell?"
"To say nothing," Campbell answered. "I knew this story would hurt them all profoundly. They were very fond of Miriam. Lucius was in love with her as only a young and idealistic man can be. I believe it was his first love ..." He left the sentence hanging, allowing each man to remember his own first awakenings of passion, dreams, and perhaps loss.
"I see," Tobias said softly. "Only God can know whether that decision was the right one, but I can well understand why you made it. I am afraid I must press you further on just one issue."
"Yes?"
"The coachman, James Treadwell. Why do you think she left with him?"
"He was the servant in the house she knew the best," Campbell replied. "I gather he had driven her from Hampstead a number of times. I shall not speculate that it was anything more than that."
"Very charitable of you," Tobias observed. "Considering your knowledge of her previous behavior with menservants."
Campbell narrowed his lips, but he did not answer.
"Tell me," Tobias continued, "how did this wretched coachman know of Mrs. Anderson’s stealing of hospital supplies?"
"I have no idea." Campbell sounded surprised, then his face fell. He shook his head. "No—I don’t believe Miriam told him. She was conniving, manipulative, greedy—but no. Unless it was by accident, not realizing what he would do with the information."
"Would it not be the perfect revenge?" Tobias asked smoothly. "Her marriage to Lucius Stourbridge is now impossible because she knows you will never allow it. Treadwell is ruining her friend and benefactress, to whom she must now return. In rage and defeat, and even desperation, she strikes out at him! What could be more natural?"
