William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf

Eilish, pale as a ghost, her eyes dark with fear; Deirdra, tense and unhappy, glancing all the time at Eilish; and Oonagh, composed and grave, and somewhat apologetic. It was she who came forward to greet first Hester, then Monk. As always, she was not lost for words.
    “Miss Latterly, no expression of regret can suffice for what you have endured, but please believe that we are truly sorry, and as far as we have any part in it, we apologize profoundly.”
    It was a noble speech, most especially considering that it was her own husband who now stood so openly accused.
    Eilish looked wretched, and Monk felt an unaccustomed wave of pity for her. Quinlan’s behavior could only be acutely embarrassing to her.
    Hester was generous about it, whatever her underlying feelings.
    “You have no call to apologize, Mrs. McIvor. You were newly bereaved in most fearful circumstances. I think youacted with dignity and restraint. I would be pleased to have done as well.”
    A slight smile touched Oonagh’s lips.
    “You are very gracious, Miss Latterly, more generous than I think I should be”—the smile broadened for a moment—“were we to change places.”
    Eilish made a strangled sound in her throat.
    Deirdra turned to her, but Oonagh ignored the interruption, and looked at Monk.
    “Good morning, Mr. Monk. McTeer gave no indication as to why you have come. Was it simply to accompany Miss Latterly, that we might apologize to her?”
    “I did not come for apologies,” Hester cut across him before he could speak. “I came to say how highly I regarded your mother, and in spite of all that has happened since we last met, I regard her loss as the worst of it.”
    “That is generous of you,” Oonagh accepted. “Yes, she was a remarkable person. She will be greatly missed, outside the family as well as within it.”
    They seemed to be on the point of being shown out again, and Monk had asked nothing at all.
    “I have already expressed my regrets, long ago,” he said somewhat abruptly. “I came to ask if you wished my assistance in the matter. It is far from resolved, and the police will not allow it to rest. They cannot.”
    “As an agent of inquiry?” Oonagh’s fair eyebrows rose curiously. “To help us obtain another verdict of ‘not proven’?”
    “Do you think Mr. McIvor is guilty?”
    It was an appalling thing to ask. There was a shocked, breathless silence. Even Hester gasped and bit her lip. A coal settled in the grate and outside beyond the windows a dog barked.
    “No!” Eilish said at last, her voice a sob in her throat. “No, of course not!”
    Monk was ruthless. “Then you will need to prove that itwas someone else, or he will take Miss Latterly’s place at the rope’s end.”
    “Monk!” Hester exploded. “For heaven’s sake!”
    “You find the truth ugly?” he said. “I would have thought you, of all people, would not now balk at the reality.”
    She said nothing. He could feel her disgust as if it were a palpable thing radiating from her. It did not disturb him in the slightest.
    A bar of pale sunlight came through the clouds and shone on one of the bookcases.
    “I fear you are right, Mr. Monk,” Oonagh said with distaste, “no matter how bluntly you phrase it. The authorities cannot afford to allow the matter to remain unresolved. They have not yet been here, but no doubt it is merely a matter of time. If not today, then tomorrow. I know of no one else we could call to our assistance in the matter of learning the truth. Of course we do have lawyers, should that be necessary. What would you propose to do?” She did not mention money; it was vulgar, and she had more than sufficient means to meet anything he might charge, probably out of petty housekeeping.
    It was an impossible question to answer. He was seeking the truth only to prove once and for all that it was not Hester. The only imaginable alternatives were members of the Farraline family. Looking at Oonagh’s face, he saw the depths of her eyes, the black laughter in there, and knew that she understood it as perfectly as he did.
    Eilish moved uncomfortably. Deirdra glanced at her.
    “Discover which of you it was, Mrs. McIvor,” Monk said quietly. “At least let us hang the right man—or woman. Or would you prefer simply to hang the most convenient?”
    Hester let out a suppressed groan of anguish.
    Oonagh remained entirely composed.
    “No one could accuse you of mincing your words, Mr. Monk. But you are correct. I should