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"That is so," she agreed.
Tobias stood up and walked towards her.
"Mrs. Monk, you seem to be disposed to go to extraordinary lengths to prove Mrs. Anderson not guilty, lengths quite above and beyond the call of any duty you are either invested with or have taken upon yourself. I cannot but suspect you of embarking upon a crusade, either because you have a zeal to reform nursing and the view in which nurses are regarded— and I will call Mr. Fermin Thorpe of the hospital in question to testify to your dedication to this—or less flatteringly, a certain desire to draw attention to yourself, and fulfill your emotions, and perhaps occupy your time and your life in the absence of children to care for."
It was a tactical error. As soon as he said it he was aware of his mistake, but he did not know immediately how to retract it.
"On the contrary, Mr. Tobias," Hester said with a cold smile. "I have merely testified as to facts. It is you who are searching to invest them with some emotional value because it appears you do not like to be proved mistaken, which I cannot understand, since we are all aware you prosecute or defend as you are engaged to, not as a personal vendetta against anyone. At least I believe that to be the case?" She allowed it to be a question.
There was a rustle of movement around the room, a ripple of nervous laughter.
Tobias blushed. "Of course that is the case. But I am vigorous in it!"
"So am I!" she said tartly. "And my emotions are no less honorable than your own, except that law is not my profession ..." She allowed the sentence to remain unfinished. They could draw their own conclusion as to whether she considered her amateur status to mark her inferiority in the matter or the fact that she did not take money for it and thus had a moral advantage.
"If you have no further questions, Mr. Tobias," the judge said, resuming command, "I shall adjourn the court until such time as this unfortunate woman is identified, then perhaps we shall also examine the hospital apothecary’s records and be certain in the matter of what was stolen and when." He banged his gavel sharply and with finality.
Monk left the court without having heard Hester’s second testimony. He went straight back to the Hampstead police station to find Sergeant Robb. It was imperative now that they learn who the dead woman had been. The only place to begin was with the assumption that Miriam had told the truth, and therefore she must have had some connection with Aiden Campbell.
"But why is he lying?" Robb said doubtfully as they set out along the street in the hazy sunlight. "Why? Let us even suppose that he seduced Miriam when she was his maid, or even raped her, it would hardly be the first time that had happened. Let us even say the woman on the Heath was a cook or housekeeper who knew about it, that’d be no reason to kill her."
"Well, somebody killed her," Monk said flatly, setting out across the busy street, disregarding the traffic and obliging a dray to pull up sharply. He was unaware of it and did not even signal his thanks to the driver, who shouted at him his opinion of drunkards and lunatics in general and Monk in particular.
Robb ran to catch up with him, raising a hand to the driver in acknowledgment.
"We’ve nowhere else to start," Monk went on. "Where did you say Campbell lived—exactly?"
Robb repeated the address. "But he moved to Wiltshire less than a year after that. There won’t necessarily be anyone there now who knows him or anything that happened."
"There might be," Monk argued. "Some servants will have left; others prefer to stay in the area and find new positions, even stay in the house with whoever buys it. People belong to their neighborhoods."
"It’s the far side of the Heath." Robb was having to hurry to keep up. "Do you want to take a hansom?"
"If one passes us," Monk conceded, not slackening his pace. "If she wasn’t part of the household, who could she be? How was she involved? Was she a servant or a social acquaintance?"
"Well, there was nobody reported missing around that time," Robb replied. "She wasn’t local, or somebody’d have said."
"So nobody missed her?" Monk swung around to face Robb and all but bumped into a gentleman coming briskly the other way. "Then she wasn’t a neighbor or a local servant. This becomes very curious."
They said no more until they reached the house where Aiden Campbell had lived twenty-one years before. It had changed hands twice since then, but the girl who had been the scullery maid was now the housekeeper, and the mistress had no objection to allowing Monk and Robb to speak with her; in fact, she seemed quite eager to be of assistance.
"Yes, I was scullery maid then," the housekeeper agreed. "Miriam was the tweeny. Only a bit of a girl, she was, poor little thing."
"You liked her?" Monk said quickly.
"Yes—yes, I did. We laughed together a lot, shared stories and dreams. Got with child, poor little soul, an’ I never knew what happened to her then. Think it may ’ave been born dead, for all that good care was took of ’er. Not surprising, I suppose. Only twelve or so when she got like that."
"Good care was taken of her?" Robb said with surprise.
"Oh, yes. Had the midwife in," she replied.
"How do you know she was a midwife?" Monk interrupted.
"She said so. She lived ’ere for a while, right before the birth. I do know that because I ’elped prepare ’er meals, an’ took ’em up, on a tray, like."
"You saw her?" Monk said eagerly.
"Yes. Why? I never saw ’er afterwards:’
