William Monk 08 - The Silent Cry

intrusion, as it was for Monk. He looked at Hester. She was absorbed in her feelings for Sylvestra. He and Monk barely touched the periphery of her mind.
    “Hester …” It was Monk who spoke, but hesitantly.
    Evan looked at him. Monk’s face was filled with pity so profound it stood naked, startling, and it was a moment or two before Evan realized it was for Hester, not the woman who had received such a devastating blow. It was not only pity, there was also in it a burning admiration and a tenderness which betrayed his defenses utterly.
    Evan longed for Hester to turn and see it, but she was consumed by her anguish for Sylvestra.
    Evan walked towards the door. He was in the hall when he saw Dr. Wade coming down the stairs. The doctor looked haggard, and he still had the trace of a limp remaining from his accident.
    “There will be no possibility of your moving him,” he said as he neared the bottom. “Whether he will be fit to stand a trial I cannot say.”
    “We will have to have a medical opinion of more than one man to that,” Evan answered him. He looked at Wade’s strained expression, the darkness in his eyes and what he thought might even be fear, or the shadow of fear to come.
    “Sergeant …”
    “Yes, Doctor?”
    “Have …” Wade bit his lip. What he was about to say seemed to hurt him intensely. He struggled with it, hovered on the edge of decision, and finally summoned the strength. “Have you considered the possibility that he is not sane … not responsible, as you and I understand the sense?”
    So Wade accepted that Rhys was guilty. Was it simply the evidence they had presented? Or did he know something from Rhys himself, some communication, some long knowledge and perception of the boy’s nature over the years?
    “No man could do what was done to those women, Doctor,and be what you and I understand as sane,” Evan replied quickly. “Blame is not for us to decide … thank God.”
    Wade took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, then nodded his acknowledgment and walked past Evan to the withdrawing room door.

10
    A fter Monk and Evan had left, Corriden Wade remained in the withdrawing room, pacing the floor, unable to be still long enough to sit. Sylvestra was motionless, staring into space as if all will and strength within her had died. Hester stood by the fire.
    “I’m sorry,” Wade said passionately, looking at Sylvestra. “I’m so sorry. I had no conception this would happen … it is the most ghastly thing.”
    Hester stared at him. Had he seen some darkness in Rhys all the time, and feared disaster, but something less than this, less intense, less irretrievable than death? Looking at his face now, cast in deep shadow, his eyes hollow, his cheeks somber with draining emotion and lack of sleep, it would be easy to believe he was seeing the realization of a long-held dread, but something he had been helpless to prevent.
    Then another thought occurred to her. Was Corriden Wade the missing link in Evan’s chain of evidence? Was it he, perhaps, who had tried to warn Leighton Duff of his son’s weakness, his propensity for real vice? Had it been something Wade had said which had made Leighton Duff ultimately piece together all the sharp words, looks, little facts here and there, and realize the terrible truth?
    With a shiver of horror she realized she had accepted within herself that Rhys was guilty. She had fought against it so long, and then in a moment had surrendered without even being conscious of it.
    Wade stopped pacing and stared down at Sylvestra.
    “You must rest, my dear. I shall give you a draft to help you sleep. I am sure Miss Latterly will sit up with Rhys should it be necessary, but I doubt it will. You will need your strength.” He turned to Hester. “I am sorry to place so much upon you, but I have no doubt both your courage and your compassion are equal to it.”
    It was a profound compliment, and gravely given. It was not a time for thanks, only acceptance.
    “Of course,” she agreed. “Tomorrow we shall begin what is to be done.”
    He nodded and at last seemed to relax a fraction. Hester believed it prudent to allow him a few moments alone with Sylvestra. His care for her was apparent. Now, of all times, they should be permitted a privacy to reach towards each other through the tragedy which engulfed them.
    “I shall go and see how Rhys is now,” she said. “Good night.” She did not wait for a reply, but turned and went out,