The Twisted Root

secondhand kitchen table and a new jug and bowl and two more towels, something she had not been known to do in several years.
    Monk was in the street outside her house a little before half past four when he saw Michael Robb coming towards him, walking slowly as if he was tired and his feet were sore. He was obviously hot, and he looked deeply depressed. He stopped in front of Monk. "Were you going to tell me?" he asked.
    There was no need for explanation. Monk did not know whether he would have told him or not, but he was quite certain he hated the fact that Robb knew. Perhaps it was inevitable, and when he had wrestled with it and grieved over it he would have told him, but he was not ready to do that yet.
    "I have no proof of anything," he answered. That was uncharacteristically vague for him. Usually he faced a truth honestly, however bitter. This hurt more than he had foreseen.
    "I have," Robb said wearily. "Enough to arrest her. Please don’t stand in my way. At least we will release Miriam Gardiner. You can tell Mr. Stourbridge. He’ll be relieved ... not that he ever thought her guilty."
    "Yes ..." Monk knew Lucius would be happy, but it would be short-lived, because Miriam had chosen to face trial herself rather than implicate Cleo Anderson. Her grief would be deep, and probably abiding.

    The police believed Miriam was a material witness to the crime who had not offered them the truth, even when pressed. She was a woman apparently not guilty of murder but quite plainly in a state close to hysteria, and not fit to be released except into the care of some responsible person who would look after her and also be certain that she was present to appear in court on the witness stand as the law demanded. Lucius and his father were the obvious and willing candidates.
    It was passionately against her will. She stood white-faced in the police station, turning from Robb to Monk.
    "Please, Mr. Monk, I will give any undertaking you like, pledge anything at all, but do not oblige me to go back to Cleveland Square! I will gladly work in the hospital day and night, if you will allow me to live there."
    The police station superintendent looked at her gravely, then at Robb.
    "I think..." Robb began.
    But the superintendent did not wish to hear his opinion. "You are obviously distressed," he said to Miriam, speaking slowly and very clearly. "Mr. Stourbridge is to be your husband. He is the best one to see that you are given the appropriate care and to offer you comfort for the grief you naturally feel upon the arrest of a woman who showed you kindness in the past. You have suffered a great shock. You must rest quietly and restore your strength."
    Miriam swung around to gaze at Monk. Her eyes were wild, as if she longed to say something to him but the presence of others prevented her.
    He could think of no excuse to speak to her alone. Major Stourbridge and Lucius were just beyond the door waiting to take her back to Cleveland Square. There was a constable on one side of her and the desk sergeant on the other. Their intention was to support her in case she felt faint, but in effect they closed her in as if she were under restraint.
    There was nothing he could do. Helplessly, he watched her escorted from the room. The door opened and Lucius Stourbridge stepped forward, his face filled with tenderness and joy. Behind him Harry Stourbridge smiled as if the end of a long nightmare was in sight.
    Miriam tripped, staggered forward and had to be all but carried by the constable and the sergeant. She flinched as Lucius touched her.

7
    HESTER WAS HOME before Monk, and was looking forward to his coming, but when he came in through the door and she saw his face, she knew instantly that something was very seriously wrong. He looked exhausted. His skin was pale and his dark hair limp and stuck to his brow in the heat.
    Alarm welled up inside her. "What is it?" she demanded urgently.
    He stood in the middle of the floor. He lifted his hand and touched her cheek very lightly. "I know what it is you couldn’t tell me ... and why. I’m sorry I had to pursue it."
    She swallowed. "It?"
    "The stolen medicines," he answered. "Who took them and why, and where did they go? It’s a far more obvious cause for blackmail."
    She tried not to understand, pushing the realization away from her. "The medicines couldn’t have anything to do with Miriam Gardiner."
    "Not directly, but one leads to the other." His eyes did not waver, and she knew that he