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She considered it for several moments. “It would be about money, I expect, and land. He’s developing a big area somewhere on the south bank, I think. People can be jealous.”
“I’ll look into it. What about Kate? Was there anyone who envied him because of her?”
“Possibly. But how could anyone who loved her have killed her?” She drew in her breath quickly. “Oh, you don’t mean love, do you? You mean a kind of possession. ‘My wife is more beautiful, more dazzling than yours.’ Like owning a fine horse, an Arabian instead of a plain pony. I don’t know. She never mentioned anyone else…in that way. I think…” She did not finish.
“What?” he asked.
“I think she was very lonely,” she finished quietly.
The back door closed with a sharp click and there were quick footsteps along the passage. Next moment, the maid knocked and then put her head around the door. “Oh, miss, are you all right?”
Hooper rose to his feet. “Thank you, Miss Darwin, I’m sorry I had to come with such news.” He looked at the maid to make sure she understood that there was a tragedy. “And thank you for the tea.”
Celia met his eyes for a moment and he was satisfied.
“Not at all, Mr. Hooper,” Celia said. “I think it is not so hard this way. Thank you.”
CHAPTER
6
MONK WENT HOME IN the mid-afternoon after spending the morning with the Metropolitan Police, learning what he could elicit about other kidnappings. The lights were on at the house in Paradise Place, which meant that Hester was at home. Whether he told her about the case or not, the sense of isolation, and above all of futility, would be eased a little by her presence.
She must have heard the door, maybe even been half listening for it, because she came from the kitchen immediately. She was not wearing an apron. Perhaps she had been working on the clinic papers, as she often did, spreading them all over the kitchen table.
She did not ask how he was. Instead, she looked at him gravely, at his clothes, the angles and the lack of energy in his body, then straight at his face. She understood, and made no comment on it.
“You have to go out again…”
“Yes.”
“Can’t they do it alone?”
“Yes. I’m not going because they need me…”
“Loyalty?” she asked.
“No.” He followed her down the hall into the kitchen and sat down on one of the hard-backed chairs while she cleared her papers away. “It’s not out of loyalty. In fact, rather the opposite.” It was hard to say, even to her, who uniquely understood duty and the import
ance of trust. And yet it would be a relief to tell her; he knew that, too.
She was waiting, seeing the struggle in him.
“Hester, one of them betrayed us, and Kate Exeter was slashed to death. He is one of us, and yet that divides him from us forever. The kidnappers know he can be made to do that! They own him—he knows that and so do they. How can I not know who it is? Yet I don’t even sense it.”
“Because you’re not looking for it,” she answered. “You have to take most of what you know about people at face value. They trust you. Whether they like you or not, they know you are brave, honest to a fault.” She smiled very slightly. “Short-tempered and precise. But that you’d be loyal to them and to the job, whatever it costs. I know other things about you.” Her face softened and her eyes were tender. “Things they’ll never know: things you dream about, things that recall moments of pain, and happiness, things you regret, and things you’ll always remember. They’ll never know those things about you, nor will you know those things about them.”
He found himself coloring faintly, but it was from pleasure. He had trusted her with everything of himself, even if he had not entirely meant to.
“I need to know them better,” he said aloud. “One of them is carrying an intolerable burden. After what happened to Kate, the guilt must be like an open blade inside him. What can’t I see?”
Her face tightened. “Be careful, William. Whoever it is has already gone far past the point of returning! He’ll—”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I’ll be careful.”
She watched him silently for a few seconds, then turned and paid attention to getting his food.
* * *
