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Rathbone turned to the front again. "If there is time before the luncheon adjournment, my lord, I would like to call Mr. William Monk. I believe he may have evidence as to the identity of the woman whose body was found last night."
"Then indeed call him," the judge said keenly. "We should all like very much to hear what he has to say. You may step down, Mr. Campbell."
Amid a buzz of excitement, Monk climbed the steps to the stand and was sworn in. Every eye in the room was on him. Even Tobias sat forward in his seat, his face puckered with concern, his hands spread out on the table in front of him, broad and strong, fingers drumming silently.
Rathbone found his voice shaking a little. He was obliged to clear his throat before he began.
"Mr. Monk, have you been engaged in trying to discover whatever information it is possible to find regarding the body of the woman found on Hampstead Heath last night?"
"Since I was informed of it, at about one o’clock this morning," Monk replied. And, in fact, he looked as if he had been up all night. His clothes were immaculate as always, but there was a dark shadow of beard on his cheeks and he was unquestionably tired.
"Have you learned anything?" Rathbone asked. Hearing his own heart beating so violently, he feared he must be shaking visibly.
"Yes. I took the buttons from the boots she was wearing and a little of the leather of the soles, which were scarcely worn. Those particular buttons were individual, manufactured for only a short space of time. It is not absolute proof, but it seems extremely likely she was killed twenty-two years ago. Certainly, it was not longer, and since the boots were almost new, it is unlikely to be less than that. If you call the police surgeon, he will tell you she was a woman of middle age, forty-five or fifty, of medium height and build, with long gray hair. She had at some time in the past had a broken bone in one foot which had healed completely. She was killed by a single, very powerful blow to her head, by someone facing her at the time, and right-handed. Oh... and she had perfect teeth—which is unusual in one of her age."
There was tension in the court so palpable that when a man in the gallery sneezed the woman behind him let out a scream, then stifled it immediately.
Every juror in both rows stared at Monk as if unaware of anyone else in the room.
"Was that the same police surgeon who examined the bodies of Tread well and Mrs. Stourbridge?" Rathbone asked.
"Yes," Monk answered.
"And was he of the opinion that the blows were inflicted by the same person."
Tobias rose to his feet. "My lord, Mr. Monk has no medical expertise..."
"Indeed," the judge agreed. "We will not indulge in hearsay, Sir Oliver. If you wish to call this evidence, no doubt the police surgeon will make himself available. Nevertheless, I should very much like to know the answer to that myself."
"I shall most certainly do so," Rathbone agreed. Then, as the usher stood at his elbow, he said, "Excuse me, my lord." He took the note handed to him and read it to himself.
It could not have been a blackmailer of Cleo—she was not stealing medicines then. The apothecary can prove that. Call me to testify. Hester.
The court was waiting.
"My lord, may I recall Mrs. Monk to the stand, in the question as to whether Mrs. Anderson could have been blackmailed over the theft of medicines twenty-two years ago?"
"Can she give evidence on the subject?" the judge asked with surprise. "Surely she was a child at the time?"
"She has access to the records of the hospital, my lord."
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"Then call her, but I may require to have the records themselves brought and put into evidence."
"With respect, my lord, the court has accepted that medicines were stolen within the last few months without Mr. Tobias having brought the records for the jury to read. Testimony has been sufficient for him in that."
Tobias rose to his feet. "My lord, Mrs. Monk has shown herself an interested party. Her evidence is hardly unbiased."
"I am sure the records can be obtained," Rathbone said reluctantly. He would far rather Cleo’s present thefts were left to testimony only, but there was little point in saving her from charges of stealing if she was convicted of murder.
"Thank you, my lord," Tobias said with a smile.
"Nevertheless," the judge added, "we shall see what Mrs. Monk has to say, Sir Oliver. Please call her."
Hester took the stand and was reminded of her earlier oath to tell the truth and only the truth. She had examined the apothecary’s records as far back as thirty years, since before Cleo Anderson’s time, and there was no discrepancy in medicines purchased and those accounted for as given to patients.
"So at the time of this unfortunate woman’s death, there were no grounds for blackmailing Mrs. Anderson, or anyone else, with regard to medicines at the hospital?" Rathbone confirmed.
