William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf
“What a dream … what a beautiful dream.” There was reminiscence in his tone and his eyes were not focused on anything.
They all studiously ignored him.
“Does anyone know what time we may expect Alastair?” Kenneth asked, looking from Deirdra to Oonagh. “Are we going to have to wait dinner for him … again?”
“If he is late,” Oonagh replied coolly, “it will be for an excellent reason, not because he is inconsiderate or has some social entertainment he prefers.”
Like a small boy Kenneth pulled a face, but he said nothing. Monk formed the distinct impression he did not dare to, dearly as he would have liked.
Conversation struggled on for another ten or fifteen minutes. Monk found himself talking with Deirdra, mostly by design, not to obtain Oonagh’s information but because he enjoyed her company. She was an intelligent woman, and seemed to be devoid of the sort of artifice he disliked. Hewatched Eilish out of the comer of his eye, but her luminous beauty did not appeal to him. He preferred character and wit. Sheer beauty lent an aura of invulnerability, and was peculiarly unattractive to him.
“Have you really found out anything about poor Mother-in-law’s death, Mr. Monk?” Deirdra asked gravely. “I do hope the affair is not going to drag on and cause more and more distress?” The lift in her voice made it a question and her dark eyes were full of anxiety.
She deserved the truth—although he would not have hesitated to lie even to her, had he thought it would serve its purpose.
“I am afraid I can think of no way in which it will be resolved easily,” he replied. “Criminal trials are always unpleasant. No one is going”—he forced himself to say it—“to be hanged without doing everything they know how to avoid it.”
Suddenly and ridiculously he was overwhelmed with a blinding hatred for them all, standing in this warm room waiting to be called in to dinner. One of them had murdered Mary Farraline and was going to allow the law to murder Hester in his or her place. “And no doubt a good defense lawyer will try to spread blame and suspicion somewhere else,” he added between his clenched teeth. “Of course it will be unpleasant. She is fighting for her life. She is a brave woman who has faced loneliness, privation and physical danger before. She won’t surrender. She will have to be beaten.”
Deirdra was staring at him, her face drawn, her eyes wide.
“You speak as if you knew her well,” she said in little more than a whisper.
Monk checked himself instantly, like a runner tripping and regaining his balance.
“It is my business to, Mrs. Farraline. I can hardly defend the prosecution’s interest if I am unfamiliar with the enemy.”
“Oh … no, I suppose not. I had not thought of that.” She frowned. “I had not thought very much about it at all. Alastair would have known better. I expect you have talked with him.” It was an assumption rather than a question. She looked a trifle crestfallen. “You should really speak with Oonagh. She is most observant of people. She always seems to know what a person really means, rather than what they say. I have noticed it often. She is most gifted at reading character.” She smiled. “It is really rather a comforting quality, to feel someone understands you so well.”
“Except in Miss Latterly’s case,” Monk said with more sarcasm than he had meant to show.
She caught his tone and looked at him with a mixture of perception and defense.
He found himself annoyed, both for having been rude to her and for having betrayed himself.
“You must not blame her for that,” she said quickly. “She was so busy caring for poor Mother-in-law. It was she whom Mother confided in. She seemed to be most concerned about Griselda.” A slight frown puckered her brows. “I had not thought there was anything really wrong. She always was rather a worrier. But perhaps it was something more serious? A first confinement can be difficult. So can any, for that matter, of course. But I know Griselda wrote several times a week, until eventually even Oonagh agreed that it really was necessary that Mother should travel down to London to reassure her. Now, poor soul, she will never know what Mother would have told her.”
“Can Mrs. McIvor not write to her in such a way as to help?” he suggested.
“Oh I am sure she has done,” Deirdra said with certainty. “I wish I could help myself, but I have no idea what was the
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