William Monk 03 - Defend and Betray

sir; seein’ as you’re not on the force any longer. But I ain’t forgot much. I can tell you just about all of it. I’m on duty right now. But I get an hour for luncheon, leastways I can take an hour, and I’m sure the duty sergeant’ll come for me. An’ if you like to meet me at the Three Feathers I’ll tell you all I can remember.”
    “Thank you, Markham, that’s very obliging of you. I hope you’ll let me stand you to a meal?”
    “Yes, sir, that’s handsome of you.”
        And so midday saw Monk and Sergeant Markham sitting at a small round table in the clink and chatter of the Three Feathers, each with a plate piled full of hot boiled mutton and horseradish sauce, potatoes, spring cabbage, mashed turnips and butter; a glass of cider at the elbow; and steamed treacle pudding to follow.
    Markham was as good as his word, meticulously so. He had brought no papers with him, but his memory was excellent. Perhaps he had refreshed it discreetly for the occasion, or maybe it was sufficiently sharp he had no need. He began as soon as he had taken the edge off his appetite with half a dozen mouthfuls.
    “The first thing you did, after reading the evidence, was go back over the ground as we’d already done ourselves.” He left out the “sir” he would have used last time and Monk noted it with harsh amusement.
    “That was, go to the scene o’ the crime and see the broken window,” Markham went on. “O’ course the glass was all cleaned up, like, but we showed you where it ’ad lain. Thenwe questioned the servants again, and Mrs. Ward ’erself. Do you want to know what I can remember o’ that?”
    “Only roughly,” Monk replied. “If there was anything of note? Not otherwise.”
    Markham continued, outlining a very routine and thorough investigation, at the end of which any competent policeman would have been obliged to arrest Hermione Ward. The evidence was very heavy against her. The great difference between her and Alexandra Carlyon was that she had everything to gain from the crime: freedom from a domineering husband and the daughters of a previous wife, and the inheritance of at least half of his very considerable wealth. Whereas, on the surface at least, Alexandra had everything to lose: social position, a devoted father for her son, and all but a small interest in his money. And yet Alexandra had confessed very early on, and Hermione had never wavered in protesting her total innocence.
    “Go on!” Monk urged.
    Markham continued, after only a few more mouthfuls. Monk knew he was being unfair to the man in not allowing him to eat, and he did not stop himself.
    “You wouldn’t let it rest at that,” Markham said with admiration still in his voice at the memory of it. “I don’t know why, but you believed ’er. I suppose that’s the difference between a good policeman and a really great one. The great ones ’ave an instinct for innocence and guilt that goes beyond what the eye can see. Anyway, you worked night and day; I never saw anyone work so ’ard. I don’t know when you ever slept, an’ that’s the truth. An’ you drove us till we didn’t know whether we was comin’ or goin’.”
    “Was I unreasonable?” Monk asked, then instantly wished he had not. It was an idiotic question. What could this man answer? And yet he heard his own voice going on. “Was I … offensive?”
    Markham hesitated, looking first at his plate, then up at Monk, trying to judge from his eyes whether he wanted a candid answer or flattery. Monk knew what the decision would have to be; he liked flattery, but he had never in hislife sought it. His pride would not have permitted him. And Markham was a man of some courage. He liked him now. He hoped he had had the honesty and the good judgment to like him before, and to show it.
    “Yes,” Markham said at last. “Although I wouldn’t ’ave said so much offensive, Offense depends on who takes it. I don’t take it. Can’t say as I always liked you—too ’ard on some people because they didn’t meet your standards, when they couldn’t ’elp it. Different men ’as different strengths, and you weren’t always prepared to see that.”
    Monk smiled to himself, a trifle bitterly. Now that he was no longer on the force, Markham had shown a considerable temerity and put tongue to thoughts he would not have dared entertain even as ideas in his mind a year ago. But he was honest. That he would not have dared say such things before was no