William Monk 11 - Slaves of Obsession

woman he had ever seen. With that large mouth she should have been plain, but it was sensuous, quick to smile in the past, now tightly controlled on the edge of tears, speaking all her vulnerability. Her high, slanted cheekbones caught the light.
    “Mr. Monk, where do you believe Lyman Breeland has gone?”
    “To America with the guns,” he said instantly. He had no doubt of it at all.
    “And my daughter?”
    “With him.” He was not so certain, but it was the only possible answer to give her.
    She kept her composure. “Willingly, do you believe?”
    He had no idea. There were all sorts of possibilities, most of them ugly. “I don’t know, but none of the people we spoke to saw anything of a struggle.”
    She swallowed with an effort. “She may also have been taken with him as a hostage, may she not? I cannot believe she would have had any willing part in her father’s death, even if she did not disapprove of stealing the guns. She is hotheaded and very young.” Her voice cracked and nearly broke. “She does not think things through to the end, but there is no malice in her. She would never condone … murder.” She forced herself to use the word, and the pain of it was sharp in her voice. “Of anyone.”
    “Judith!” Casbolt protested again, his agony for her naked in his face. “Please! Don’t torture yourself! There is no way we can know what happened. Of course Merrit would not willingly have any part in it … in violence. She almost certainly knows nothing of it. And she is obviously in love with Breeland.”
    He was standing very close to her now, but he refrained from making any attempt to touch her, no matter how slightly. “People do many extraordinary things when theyare in love. Men and women will sacrifice anything at all for the person they care for.” His voice was husky, as if he spoke through continual fear so intense it had become physical. “If Breeland loves her, he will never harm her, no matter what else he may do. You must believe that. The most evil man can still be capable of love. Breeland is obsessed with winning his war. He has lost all sight of the morality you and I would hold a necessity of civilized life, but he may still treat the woman he loves with tenderness and consideration, and even give his life to protect her.” At last he did touch her, gently, with trembling hands. “Please, do not fear he will harm her. She has chosen to go with him. She almost certainly has no idea what he has done. He will keep it from her, for her sake. She will never know. Perhaps when she reaches America she may even write and tell you she is well and safe. Please … don’t despair!”
    She turned to him at last, the very faintest smile on her lips.
    “My dear Robert, you have been a strength to me as you always have, and I love you for it. I trust you as I do no one else at all. But I must do what I believe to be right. Please do not try to dissuade me. I am quite determined. I shall value you even more, if that were possible, if you could support me, but regardless, I must do this. You have already done a great deal for us, and were the situation not so desperate I would ask no more, but my child is in a danger from which I can do nothing to protect her. At the very best, she has eloped with the man who murdered her father, and he may or may not wish her harm. But he is an evil man, and even if he believes he loves her, he cannot be the man she would wish.”
    “Judith …” Casbolt began to protest.
    She ignored him. Perhaps she did not even hear. “At worst he has no care for her, and simply took advantage of her love for him to take her with him as hostage, and if he fears the British police will pursue him, he will use her to effect his escape. When she is no longer of use to him, he … he may kill her also.”
    Casbolt drew in his breath in a gasp.
    Monk did not argue. It was true, and it would be cruelty to allow her to doubt it and then have to gather her courage to face it again.
    “Mr. Monk, will you go to America and do everything you can to bring Merrit back home … by force if persuasion will not move her?”
    “Judith, that is most …” Casbolt tried again.
    “Difficult,” she said for him, but without moving her eyes from Monk’s face. “I know. But I must ask you to do everything that can be done. I will pay all I have, which is considerable, to see her free of Breeland and back home.”
    Casbolt tightened his fingers on her arm.