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“Could Breeland have been part of the attempt at blackmail?” she asked. “He seemed willing to do anything at all to get the guns. He is a man whose belief in his cause seems to him to justify anything. He would see it as helping to preserve the Union and freeing slaves.”
Casbolt’s eyes widened very slightly. “I had not thought of it, but it is possible. Except how could he know of Gilmer, and Daniel’s kindness to him?”
“Any number of ways,” she responded. “Someone obviously knew.”
“But he had only been in England a few weeks at that time.”
“How do you know that?”
He drew in his breath slowly. “I don’t!”
“And he could have had allies. Whatever the truth of it,” she pointed out, “it seems Breeland was on a special night train to Liverpool and could not actually have killed Mr. Alberton himself. And Merrit was with him, so that excludes her also, thank heaven.”
He leaned forward. “Are you sure? Mrs. Monk, please, please don’t raise Judith’s hopes unless there is no doubt whatever … you understand it would be unbearably cruel.”
“Of course. I understand. This is why I came to you, not to her,” she said quickly. “And because I can speak to you more frankly about Mrs. Alberton. But do you think it is possible that the whole blackmail attempt is connected with the final theft of the guns-whether it was an unsuccessful attempt by Breeland, or even by Mr. Trace?”
His eyes widened.
“Trace? Yes … it could be. He is … devious enough … for that.” Then he frowned. “But even if it were so, how would that help Merrit? And to be honest, Mrs. Monk, that is really all I care about. I am not concerned with justice. I hope I don’t shock you in saying that. I am sorry if I do. Daniel was my friend, and I need to see his murderers brought to justice, but not at the cost of further loss to his widow and daughter. He was my best friend from youth, and I knew him well. I believe their welfare is what would have concerned him far above any revenge for his death. And that is all it would be now.” He looked at her earnestly, searching her eyes for understanding.
She tried to think how she would feel in Judith’s place. Would she care above all things that Monk be avenged, or would their child’s safety and happiness come first? If she were killed, would she want Monk to pursue vengeance for her?
The answer to that came immediately. No. She would want the living protected. Let time take care of justice.
“I see you understand,” he said softly. “I thought you would.” There was gentleness in his voice, and relief. He could not hide it, and perhaps he did not want to.
But she could not let go of the truth, the need to worry at the problem until she had unraveled it. She would decide afterwards who to tell and what decisions to make.
“I wonder why they asked for the guns to be deli
vered to Baskin and Company, instead of direct to them. Do you suppose they believed Mr. Alberton had some reason not to sell to one side or the other in the American war?”
He understood exactly what she meant. “I know of none. But it would suggest someone who was unfamiliar with his family history. Anyone who knew him would never imagine he would do business that would profit pirates, however indirectly. So you are right in that it may be an American rather than someone British.” He shook his head a little. “But I don’t see how that helps Merrit. In fact, I don’t even see how it brings us any closer to the truth. What we need is something that shows Merrit had no knowledge of Breeland’s intention to harm Daniel. Either that, or that she knew but was unable to help. She was under threat herself, or imprisoned in some way.”
“We couldn’t prove that because it is quite obviously untrue,” she pointed out. “She went with him willingly, and is still prepared to defend him. She believes he is innocent.”
“She believes it because she has to.” He shook his head and smiled very slightly. “I’ve known Merrit since she was born. She is the closest I have to a child of my own. I know she is passionate and willful, and when she gives herself to something, or someone, it is wholeheartedly, and not always wisely. I have watched her through a love of horses, the determination to be a nun and then a missionary in Africa, and a deep infatuation with the local doctor, a very nice young man who was quite unaware of her regard.” Amusement and affection lit his face. “Mercifully, it passed without incident, or embarrassment.” He shrugged. “I think it is all part of growing up. I seem to remember a few turbulent emotions myself which I blush to recall now, and certainly will not speak of.”
Hester could do the same, including the vicar she had mentioned to Monk. She had also had periods of being quite convinced nobody loved her or understood her feelings, least of all her parents.
“Nevertheless,” she persisted, “the blackmail attempt was quite real. If it was not either Breeland or Trace, then it was someone else. Could it have been Mr. Shearer, the agent?”
He was startled. “Shearer? Why …” He stared at her intently. “Yes, it could, Mrs. Monk. It is a very disagreeable thought, but it is not at all impossible. Shearer acting as intermediary for pirates, and when that did not work, then for Breeland!” His voice rose. “And if Breeland himself cannot have killed poor Daniel, then perhaps Shearer did? Certainly he seems to have left London since Daniel’s death. I have not seen him since a day or two before. That would explain a great deal … and best of all, it would account for Merrit’s belief that Breeland is innocent.”
The quiet room seemed to glow around them. A bowl of golden midseason roses shone amber and apricot, reflected in the polished surface of the table beneath. The grace of a Targ horse filled an alcove.
“Poor Daniel,” he said quietly. “He trusted Shearer. He was ambitious, always looking for the advantage, driving the hardest bargain for shipping of any man on the river, and believe me, that is saying a great deal. But Daniel thought he was loyal, and I confess, so did I.” His lips twisted in a bitter grimace. “But then I suppose the greatest betrayals are from where they are least expected.”
Another thought occurred to Hester, one she would far rather not have entertained, but it would not be dismissed.
“Do you have any control over who buys the guns, Mr. Casbolt?”
“Not legally, but I suppose effectively I do. If Daniel had done something I found intolerable I could have overridden it. Why do you ask? He never did, or anything even questionable.”
“Would you have sold them to the pirates?”
“No.” Again he was meeting her eyes with candor and a fierce intensity. “And if you are thinking that Daniel would, then you are mistaken. Judith would never have borne it, after what happened to her brother. Nor would I. And Daniel would not have done it even if she had never known. Believe me, he hated the pirates as much as we did.” He looked down for a moment. “I’m sorry if I sound harsh, Mrs. Monk, but you did not know Daniel or you would not have asked. What they did to her brother was monstrous. Daniel would not give them air to breathe, let alone guns to continue their crimes. Nor would I have allowed it, whatever the threat or the price.”
