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“Because it was lying down and motionless.” Monk’s face tightened. “She could easily have been mistaken for a heap of rags, or an old tarpaulin, the way she had been left there.”
Rathbone felt a slight sickness clench in his stomach. “And your attention was drawn by a woman screaming?”
“Yes.”
“Briefly, what did you then, Mr. Monk?”
“Mr. Orme and I took the boat in to the woman who had attracted our attention. She was screaming because she had discovered the dead and grossly mutilated body of a woman who proved to be Zenia Gadney, a resident of Copenhagen Place, nearly half a mile away.”
“Mrs. Gadney, she had been murdered?” Rathbone asked.
“Yes.”
“In the course of your investigations did you learn why she was out at night, alone, in such a place as Limehouse Pier?”
“Apparently she liked to walk in that area, in daylight.” Monk hesitated a moment. Was he as aware of the gamble they were taking as Rathbone was?
“And was she alone then?” Rathbone prompted. He could not afford to slip now.
“She was seen with another woman at about sunset,” Monk answered quietly.
“Another woman?” Rathbone repeated it, his voice raised to make sure no one failed to hear.
“Yes. I have several witnesses who say it was a woman. They did not know who it was, nor were they able to give any detailed description, except that she was a few inches taller than Mrs. Gadney,” Monk answered him.
“Did they appear to know each other?” Rathbone asked. “According to your witnesses.”
“That was their impression,” Monk conceded. He looked tense, worried. Rathbone wondered how hard he had had to push for the testimony, but he was convinced it was the truth.
“So Mrs. Gadney was also out around dusk, with a person she appeared to trust, and was found murdered by morning?” he said aloud. “Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Would it surprise you to know that Dr. Lambourn also went out alone, just after dark, and seems to have met someone he trusted, possibly a woman, and gone up One Tree Hill where he was dosed with opium and his wrists cut? He also was found alone, the following morning.”
“It would have surprised me at the time,” Monk replied. “It does not surprise me now.”
“Had you seen this pattern initially, might you have investigated differently?”
Coniston stood up. “That is a hypothetical question, my lord, and the answer is meaningless.”
“I agree. Mr. Monk, you will not answer that question,” Pendock directed.
Rathbone smiled. The comment was for the jury, not for Monk to answer, and they all knew it, especially Pendock.
“Thank you,” Rathbone said to Monk. “I have no more to ask you.”
“I have nothing, my lord,” Coniston said. “We have heard it all before.”
Rathbone asked for a brief adjournment and was granted it.
He met Monk out in the hall.
“Thank you,” Rathbone said quickly.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Monk asked anxiously, falling in step with him as they made their way toward Rathbone’s chambers.
“No, I’m not sure,” Rathbone answered. “I told you that yesterday evening.” They reached the door and went in, closing it after them. “I’ve got Bawtry coming in a moment. Are you ready?”
