William Monk 07 - Weighed in the Balance

lovely works of art or theater, horse races, operas and balls if all your money is going into arms and munitions to fight a war.” She pushed her fingers gently through his hair. “I know land gets trampled, villages destroyed, crops burned and men killed when a country is invaded. There is no point whatever in fighting against the inevitable. I would rather pretend it was what I wanted all along and give in to it gracefully.”
    “Is it inevitable?” he asked.
    “Probably. I don’t know a great deal about politics. Only what I overhear.” She pulled back a little and stared up at him. “If you want to know more, you’ll have to come home with me when we go, next week. Perhaps you should?” There was laughter in her face. “Discover if there was really a plot to bring Friedrich back to the throne and someone murdered him to prevent it!”
    “What a good idea.” He kissed her again. “I think that will be absolutely necessary.”

6
    R
ATHBONE SEIZED THE LETTER
Simms was holding and tore it open. It was from Venice, and that had to mean Monk. It was not as long as he had hoped.
    Dear Rathbone,
    I believe I have exhausted the opportunity to gain information here in Italy. Everyone speaks well of the devotion between Friedrich and Gisela, even those who did not care for them, or specifically for her. The further I examine the evidence, the less does there appear to be any motive for her to have killed him. She had everything to lose. No one believes he would have left her, even to go home and lead the fight for independence.
    However, it does seem possible that others may have wished him dead for political reasons. Klaus von Seidlitz is an obvious choice, since apparently he had personal and financial interests in unification, which Friedrich’s return might have jeopardized. Although no one seems to think Friedrich would have gone without Gisela, and the Queen would not have had Gisela back even if it were to save the country’s independence. I should like to know why the Queen nurtures such a passionate hatred after more than a decade. I am told it is out of her character to allow anypersonal emotion to stand in the way of her devotion to duty and patriotism.
    I am going to Felzburg to see if I can learn more there. It may all hang on whether there actually was a plot to bring Friedrich back or not. Naturally, I shall let you know anything I discover, whether it is to Zorah’s benefit or not. At present I fear it may well be of no service to her at all.
    What I hear of her is only partially to her credit. If you can persuade her to withdraw her accusation, that may be the greatest service you can do for her, as her legal adviser. If Friedrich was murdered, and that does seem possible, it may have been by one of a number of people, but they do not include Gisela.
    I wish you luck.
    Monk
    Rathbone swore and threw the letter down on his desk. Perhaps it was foolish, but he had hoped Monk would discover something which would show a new aspect of Gisela, perhaps a lover, a younger man, a brief obsession which had led her to long for her freedom. Or perhaps Friedrich had discovered her indiscretion and threatened to make it public, and leave her.
    But Monk was right. It was almost certainly a political crime, if there were a crime at all, and Zorah’s accusation was motivated more by jealousy than any basis in fact. The only legal advice he could honestly give her was to withdraw her charge and apologize unreservedly. Perhaps if she pleaded distress at Friedrich’s death, and deep disappointment that he could not lead the battle for independence, there might be some compassion towards her. Damages might be moderated. Even so, she would almost certainly have ruined herself.
    “Apologize?” she said incredulously when Rathbone was shown into her room with its exotic shawl and red leather sofa. “I will not!” The weather was considerably colder than whenhe had first come, and there was a huge fire roaring in the grate, flames leaping, throwing a red light into the bearskins on the floor and giving the room a barbaric look, curiously warming.
    “You have no other reasonable choice,” he said vehemently. “We have found no proof whatever of your charge. We are left with suppositions, which may well be true, but we cannot demonstrate them, and even if we could, they are no defense.”
    “Then I shall have to make an unreasonable choice,” she said flatly. “Do I assume this is your very proper way