William Monk 04 - A Sudden Fearful Death

and the police. Forgive my discourtesy in saying so, but the police are public servants and the law lays down what they must do about the investigation. You, on the other hand, are paid by me, and I can request you to stop at any time I feel it the best moral decision, or the least likely to cause profound hurt. I hope you are not angry that I should mark that distinction?”
    Far from it. Inwardly he was smiling. It was the firsttime he felt a spark of quite genuine respect for Julia Penrose.
    “I take your point very nicely, ma’am,” he answered, rising to his feet. “I have a duty both moral and legal to report a crime if I have proof of one, but in the case of rape—I apologize for such an ugly word, but I assume it is rape we are speaking of?”
    “Yes,” she said almost inaudibly, her discomfort only too apparent.
    “For that crime it is necessary for the victim to make a complaint and to testify, so the matter will rest entirely with your sister. Whatever facts I learn will be at her disposal.”
    “Excellent.” She stood up also and the hoops of her huge skirt settled into place, making her once more look fragile. “I assume you will begin immediately?”
    “This afternoon if it will be convenient to see your sister then? You did not tell me her name.”
    “Marianne—Marianne Gillespie. Yes, this afternoon will be convenient.”
    “You said that you had saved from your dress allowance what seems to be a considerable sum. Did this happen some time ago?”
    “Ten days,” she replied quickly. “My allowance is paid quarterly. I had been circumspect, as it happens, and most of it was left from the last due date.”
    “Thank you, but you do not owe me an accounting, Mrs. Penrose. I merely needed to know how recent was the offense.”
    “Of course I do not. But I wish you to know that I am telling you the absolute truth, Mr. Monk. Otherwise I cannot expect you to help me. I trust you, and I require that you should trust me.”
    He smiled suddenly, a gesture which lit his face with charm because it was so rare, and so totally genuine. He found himself liking Julia Penrose more than he had anticipated from her rather prim and exceedingly predictable appearance—the huge hooped skirts so awkward to move in and so unfunctional, the neat bonnet which he loathed,the white gloves and demure manner. It had been a hasty judgment, a practice which he despised in others and even more in himself.
    “Your address?” he said quickly.
    “Number fourteen, Hastings Street,” she replied.
    “One more question. Since you are making these arrangements yourself, am I to assume that your husband is unaware of them?”
    She bit her lip and the color in her cheeks heightened. “You are. I should be obliged if you would be as discreet as possible.”
    “How shall I account for my presence, if he should ask?”
    “Oh.” For a moment she was disconcerted. “Will it not be possible to call when he is out? He attends his business every weekday from nine in the morning until, at the earliest, half past four. He is an architect. Sometimes he is out considerably later.”
    “It will be, I expect, but I would prefer to have a story ready in case we are caught out. We must at least agree on our explanations.”
    She closed her eyes for a moment. “You make it sound so … deceitful, Mr. Monk. I have no wish to lie to Mr. Penrose. It is simply that the matter is so distressing, it would be so much pleasanter for Marianne if he did not know. She has to continue living in his house, you see?” She stared up at him suddenly with fierce intensity. “She has already suffered the attack. Her only chance of recovering her emotions, her peace of mind, and any happiness at all, will lie in putting it all behind her. How can she do that if every time she sits down at the table she knows that the man opposite her is fully aware of her shame? It would be intolerable for her!”
    “But you know, Mrs. Penrose,” he pointed out, although even as he said it he knew that was entirely different.
    A smile flickered across her mouth. “I am a woman, Mr. Monk. Need I explain to you that that brings us closer in a way you cannot know. Marianne will not mind me. WithAudley it would be quite different, for all his gentleness. He is a man, and nothing can alter that.”
    There was no possible comment to make on such a statement.
    “What would you like to tell him to explain my presence?” he asked.
    “I—I am not sure.” She was