William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf

malicious trick on her. Or was it on Mary? Or the lady’s maid? Was that it? Yes, that must be it. One of the maids was jealous, and trying to get her into trouble, perhaps even usurp her position, without actually stealing the brooch.
    She was about to say this to Monk when the cab pulled up and they alighted, and the thought was lost in action.
    However, the butler who opened Callandra’s door was pale-faced and totally unsmiling, and he led the way hastily, closing the door with a snap.
    “What is it?” Monk demanded immediately.
    “I am afraid, sir, that there are two persons from the police in the withdrawing room,” the butler replied grimly, his expression conveying both his distaste and his apprehension. “Her ladyship is speaking with them now.”
    Monk strode past him across the floor and threw open the withdrawing room door. Hester followed after him, calmer and cold now that the moment had come.
    Inside the room Callandra was standing in the center of the floor and she turned around as soon as she heard thedoor. Beside her were two men, one small and stocky with a blunt face and wide eyes, the other taller, leaner and foxy looking. If they knew Monk they gave no sign of it.
    “Good afternoon, sir,” the shorter one said politely, but his eyes did not widen in the slightest.
    “Good afternoon, ma’am. Sergeant Daly, Metropolitan Police. You must be Miss Latterly, am I right?”
    Hester swallowed. “Yes….” Suddenly her voice would not stay level. “What is it you wish? Is it regarding the death of Mrs. Farraline?”
    “No, miss, not at present.” He came forward, polite and very formal. His taller companion was apparently junior. “Miss Latterly, I have authority to search your baggage, and your person if necessary, for a piece of jewelry belonging to the late Mrs. Mary Farraline, which, according to her daughter, is missing from her luggage. Perhaps you can save us the necessity for anything so unpleasant by telling us if you have such a piece?”
    “Yes she has,” Monk said icily. “She has already reported the matter to her legal adviser, and we came here, on his counsel, to take the pin to him so that he might return it to Mrs. Farraline’s estate.”
    Sergeant Daly nodded. “Very wise of you, ma’am, but not sufficient, I’m afraid. Constable Jacks”—he nodded abruptly at the other man—“would you go with this gentleman and obtain the said article.” He looked at Monk. “Perhaps you’d be good enough, sir? And you, Miss Latterly, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us.”
    “Nonsense!” Callandra stepped forward. “Miss Latterly has told you what happened. She found the piece of jewelry that was missing and made provision to return it. You do not need further explanations. She has had a long journey to Edinburgh and back again, and a most distressing experience. She is not going anywhere with you, merely in order to repeat an explanation which is quite clear to you now. You are not a fool, man, you understand exactly what has happened.”
    “No, I do not understand, your ladyship,” he said calmly. “I don’t understand at all why a respectable woman who cares for the sick should take from an old lady a piece of jewelry which belongs to her, but that’s unarguably what it looks like. Theft is theft, ma’am, whoever did it and whatever for. And I’m afraid, Miss Latterly, you will have to come with us.” He shook his head gently. “And don’t make it harder for yourself by resisting. I’d hate to have to take you in manacles—but I will, if you force me.”
    For the second time that day, Hester felt shock and disbelief buffet her like a blow, and then they vanished, leaving only cold, bitter knowledge.
    “I shall not make that necessary,” she said in a very small voice. “I did not steal anything from Mrs. Farraline. She was my patient, and I had the highest regard for her. And I have never stolen anything from anyone.” She turned to Callandra. “Thank you, but I think protest is of no value at this time.” She felt herself painfully close to tears, and did not trust herself to speak anymore, least of all to Monk.
    Callandra produced the brooch, which she had placed on the mantelshelf before Hester had left, and silently gave it to the sergeant.
    “Thank you, ma’am,” he said as he accepted it, and wrapped it in a large clean handkerchief which he took from his coat pocket. He turned again to Hester. “Now, miss, I think it would be