William Monk 04 - A Sudden Fearful Death

Faith Barker’s testimony both as to the letters she had received and her beliefs as to Prudence’s character and personality. When Judge Hardie adjourned the court, she half hoped to speak to Rathbone, but he disappeared into one of the many offices, and since she had nothing in particular to say to him, she felt it would be foolish to wait.
    She was leaving, her thoughts turning over and over what she had heard, her own impressions of the jurors’ moods, of Sir Herbert Stanhope, and of Lovat-Smith. She felt elated. Of course nothing could possibly be certain until the verdict was in, but she was almost certain that Rathbone had won. The only unfortunate aspect was that they were still as far from discovering who really had murdered Prudence. And that reawoke the sick ache inside that perhaps it had been Kristian Beck. She had never fully investigated what had happened the night before Prudence’s death. Kristian’s patient had died unexpectedly, that was all she knew. He had been distressed; was he also guilty of some negligence—or worse? And had Prudence known that? And uglier and more painful, did Callandra know it now?
    She was outside on the flight of wide stone steps down to the street when she saw Faith Barker coming toward her, her face furrowed in concentration, her expression still one of confusion and unhappiness.
    Hester stepped forward.
    “Mrs. Barker …”
    Faith froze. “I have nothing to say. Please leave me alone.”
    It took Hester a moment to realize what manner of person Faith Barker had supposed her to be.
    “I am a Crimean nurse,” she said immediately, cutting across all the explanations. “I knew Prudence—not well, but I worked with her on the battlefield.” She saw Faith Barker’s start of surprise and then the sudden emotion flooding through her, the hope and the pain.
    “I certainly knew her well enough to be completely sure that she would never have blackmailed Sir Herbert, or anyone else, into marriage,” Hester hurried on. “Actually, what I find hardest to believe is that she wished to get married at all. She seemed to me to be utterly devoted to medicine, and marriage and family were the last things she wished for. She refused Geoffrey Taunton, of whom I believe she was really quite fond.”
    Faith stared at her.
    “Were you?” she said at last, her eyes clouded with concentration, as if she had some Gordian knot of ideas to untangle. “Really?”
    “In the Crimea? Yes.”
    Faith stood motionless. Around them in the afternoon sun people stood arguing, passing the news and opinions in heated voices. Newsboys shouted the latest word from Parliament, India, China, the Court, society, cricket, and international affairs. Two men quarreled over a hansom, a pie seller cried his wares, and a woman called out after an errant child.
    Faith was still staring at Hester as if she would absorb and memorize every detail of her.
    “Why did you go to the Crimea?” she said at last. “Oh, I realize it is an impertinent question, and I beg your pardon. I don’t think I can explain it to you but I desperately need to know—because I need to understand Prudence, and I don’t. I always loved her. She was magnificent, so full of energy and ideas.”
    She smiled and she was close to tears. “She was three years older than I. As a child I adored her. She was like a magical creature to me—so full of passion and nobility. I alwaysimagined she would marry someone very dashing—a hero of some sort. Only a hero would be good enough for Prudence.” A young man in a top hat bumped into her, apologized, and hurried on, but she seemed oblivious of him. “But then she didn’t seem to want to marry anyone at all.” She smiled ruefully. “I used to dream all sorts of things too—but I knew they were dreams. I never really thought I would sail up the Nile to find its source, or convert heathens in Africa, or anything like that. I knew if I were fortunate I should find a really honorable man I could be fond of and trust, and marry him, and raise children.”
    An errand boy with a message in his hand asked them directions, listened to what they said, then went on his way uncertainly.
    “I was about sixteen before I realized Prudence really meant to make her dreams come true,” Faith continued as if there had been no interruption.
    “To nurse the sick,” Hester put in. “Or specifically to go to some place like the Crimea—a battlefield?”
    “Well really to be a doctor,”