William Monk 07 - Weighed in the Balance

accepting her also was the price of his return? Did he say so, and what was the answer? Did Gisela know it? Why does the Queen hate her so much? Did Friedrichknow about it, whatever it is? Did the Queen’s brother Count Lansdorff know?” She drew in her breath, then went on. “Of all the people who were there that weekend, which of them have interests or relatives in other German states who might be affected by unification? Who had ambitions towards war or political power? Who has alliances anywhere else? What about the Countess herself? Who are her closest friends? There are dozens of things you could find out. Even if they only raised other questions, it would be a beginning.”
    “Bravo!” He clapped his hands. “And who should I speak to in order to learn all these things?”
    “I don’t know! Can’t you think of anything for yourself? Go and speak to the people of the court in exile!”
    His eyes opened even wider. “You mean the court in Venice?”
    “Why not?”
    “You think that is a good idea?”
    “Of course! If you had any loyalty to Rathbone, you wouldn’t need to ask me, you’d just go!”
    Her concern for Rathbone must have cut sharply through her voice. He saw it, and a curious softness filled his face, and then something which might have been surprise or hurt. It was all there, and then gone in an instant before she was sure.
    “I was just going!” he said tartly. “What do you imagine I am packing for? Or do you want me to go to Venice just as I stand? Don’t you think it would be a little more intelligent, if I am to mix with the exile court, for me to take a few changes of suitable clothes?”
    She should have known. Of course, she should have. She had misjudged him. Relief welled up inside her, filling her with warmth, untying all the knots of anger and calming her fear. She found herself smiling. She should never have doubted.
    “Yes, I’m so glad.” It was not quite an apology, but almost. “Yes, naturally you’ll need the appropriate clothes. Are you going by boat or train?”
    “Both,” he replied. He hesitated. “You don’t need to worry so much about Rathbone,” he said grudgingly. “He isn’t a fool. And I’ll find enough evidence either to make a decent case or else persuade the Countess Rostova to withdraw before it comes to court.”
    She realized with a tingle of amazement that Monk was annoyed because she was afraid for Rathbone. He was jealous, and it infuriated him. She wanted to laugh, but it would sound hysterical, and he would be quite capable of shaking her till she stopped. And she would not stop, because it was so unbelievably funny. He would misunderstand entirely, and then she would only laugh the more. They would end, closer than ever, touching, the fears and barriers forgotten for a moment. Or they would quarrel and say things which might not be meant but could not be taken back or forgotten.
    He stood motionless.
    She did not dare put it to the test. It mattered too much.
    “I doubt she’ll apologize or withdraw,” she said quietly, her voice breaking a little. “But at least you may be able to find out whether or not he was murdered. Was he?”
    “I don’t know,” he replied soberly. “It could have been poison. There are yew trees in the garden there, and anyone could pick the leaves without being noticed.”
    “How would they get them to Prince Friedrich?” she asked. “You can hardly walk into a sickroom and ask the patient to eat a few leaves. Anyway, most people know what yew leaves look like; they’re sort of needles, and everyone knows they’re poisonous. It’s the sort of thing your parents tell you not to eat when you’re a child. I can remember being frightened of yew trees in graveyards when I was very young.”
    “Obviously, someone made an infusion and added it to his food or drink,” he said dourly. “They could either have done that in his room or, far more likely, gone to the kitchen or distracted a servant carrying a tray upstairs. It would be easy enough. The only thing is, Gisela never left their suite ofrooms. She is about the only person who didn’t go into the garden at all. All the servants will testify to that. Even at night, she remained with him all the time.”
    “Someone helped her?” she said, knowing even as she did so that Gisela would never trust anyone else with such a secret.
    Monk did not bother to answer.
    “If he was murdered at all, it wasn’t Gisela,” she said quietly. “What