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“Hooper?” Hester took a deep breath and let herself smile. “Of course! They are perfect for each other, but—”
“I have to tell you something else,” he cut across her. “An old story, which Exeter will expose if she tells the truth.”
“Come into the kitchen. It’s warm. I’ve got soup on the stove. You’re freezing. And I’m not going to stand here in the hall any longer.” She pulled away from him, and he felt the separation like a jarring break.
He followed her and accepted the soup while he told her the full story of the mutiny and Hooper’s part in it, and Captain Ledburn’s death.
She sat white-faced, her own soup untouched. “What can we do? They’ll hang Hooper. Mutiny is a very serious crime, and they can’t afford to let it go. You can’t let that happen, not to Hooper. He’s…one of the best—”
“I know,” he cut across her. “That’s why Celia Darwin lied. And Exeter will have been tried and found not guilty, so afterward it doesn’t matter what we learn, or what we can prove. He cannot be tried again. And I brought that about, Hester. It’s my fault. And the worst of it is, he still knows about Hooper and could turn him in. He’ll have that over our heads as long as he lives.”
“But then we…” The breath went out of her. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Once he’s been found not guilty…the bastard! The utter…I haven’t got a word vile enough!” She said it helplessly, as if not putting a name to it were the final defeat.
“Hooper won’t let her,” Monk said quietly. “He’ll tell them himself, if she won’t withdraw it, but better for her if she does. She’ll pay a heavy price if he confesses it instead. But he will. He can see that once Exeter is cleared, he’s untouchable, and the law will want someone to pay for these deaths—four,
if they hang Doyle. He’ll not let that happen.” The look on Hooper’s face as he had said that would haunt Monk’s mind for the rest of his life.
“What can we do?” Hester looked as if she were going to add something, but fell silent.
“First thing is, I’m going to tell Rathbone. He has to know the truth.”
Very slowly she shook her head. “You can’t. You’d put him in an impossible position. Exeter is his client, and he’s guilty. You know that, but Oliver doesn’t. He still has to represent him to the best of his ability.”
“I know—but I can’t let this happen.”
“Oliver will know Exeter lied to him, but only because you say so, not from any facts anyone has told him,” she pointed out. “And Celia has lied, too, under oath. Hooper lied by omission. I know that in a way it’s no one else’s concern, but do you think the jury will see it that way? You believe him because you know him.”
“Stop!” he said abruptly. “I believe Hooper, and I believe Celia Darwin. I’ve got to find a way to save them…I don’t mean from the law! I mean from the guilt of knowing they let a triple murderer go free and an innocent man hang in his place.” He gritted his teeth. “And if all this is true, and I believe it is, I can’t think how I could have been so gullible.”
“Because you saw yourself in him,” she said quietly. “He played on that. You imagined his pain and his grief as if it had been yours. What kind of a man would you be if you had not?”
“It’s little excuse,” he said impatiently. “I still need to put it right. Do you think Exeter will let them live indefinitely, knowing what they do? He killed Lister. He killed Bella Franken. He killed Kate. Do you think he wouldn’t kill Celia? She hates him, and she knows him through and through.”
Hester’s face was white. She had not even considered that, but she saw it immediately now. “All right! I see. We must put this right ourselves, though. We can’t do it by putting Oliver in a position that will ruin him. His job is to defend Exeter to the best of his ability—not to be his judge—and by failing to do his job to the fullest of his skills, he will be his executioner. All the witnesses have already testified. We have to do something with what’s left.”
“That’s only Exeter,” he pointed out.
“Then that’s what we must use.”
“How? Exeter is his own witness. And it’s Oliver’s job to help him clear himself. He’s not going to lead him into giving himself away.”
She looked consumed by the desperation she felt. “Then Ravenswood will have to do it. That’s all there is left. You’re sure about Hooper, William? They will—” She stopped. They both knew the words, but she could not bring herself to say them.
“Hang him,” he finished, his voice choking in his throat as he said it. “I know. So does he. This is his decision. He will not let Celia Darwin carry this for the rest of her life. And I daresay he also thought of the fact that Exeter will hold it over her, until he can find a way to kill her and get away with it. He would also, in a sense, own Hooper…” He did not need to finish the sentence.
“And you,” she pointed out. “You knew who Hooper was, and you didn’t turn him in.”
“Turn him in!” He was horrified until he realized that, strictly, under the law, perhaps he should have, and have left it to the courts to decide whether Hooper was speaking the truth. “No. You’re right. We must go and see Ravenswood.”
“Now,” she agreed. “There is no time to waste. Please heaven he’s at home. Where does he live?”
“Oliver will know. We’ll ask him on the way. This can’t wait. If we have to hunt him down at dinner or the theater, we’ll do it.”
“He’ll be at home, going over his case,” she said with certainty. “He’s losing.”
* * *
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