William Monk 11 - Slaves of Obsession

rather not, but if he has any sense he’ll do everything in his power to see that they are charged and defended together.”
    “What if he is prepared to defend her at his own cost?” Henry asked quietly. “If he loves her, he may do that. Will you allow him to?”
    Oliver considered for several moments. What would he do if Breeland were willing to take the blame in order to exonerate Merrit, and yet he believed Merrit guilty?
    “You had better consider it,” Henry warned. “If they are truly in love, they may each try to take the blame for the other, and make your task a great deal more difficult, whomever you represent. You had not thought of that,” he observed with surprise.
    “No,” Oliver admitted. “It was nothing Monk said, rather what he omitted to say, but I had the impression Breeland would not sacrifice himself for anyone else. But I need to know a great deal more than I do, or I am going to run the risk of being caught in this.”
    “Precisely,” Henry agreed. “For a start, could the story of Breeland’s be true, however unlikely?”
    “About the agent, Shearer? I don’t know. Certainly I know of no reason that makes it completely impossible—I shall have Monk find out if there is such a person, and if so, what he is like. Could he have murdered Alberton and taken Breeland’s money himself?” He went on thinking aloud. “That would be the obvious line of defense, and presumably what Breeland will say. If I use that, either for Breeland or for Merrit alone, then I must be certain it cannot be disproved.”
    Henry watched him in silence. Oliver realized he would certainly have to work closely with Monk, and he had resisted it until now. He wanted to take the case, but he would rather have been independent, presented Monk and Hester with the defense accomplished, rather than sought their assistance.
    “Is it possible Breeland is guilty and the daughter did not know of it?” Henry suggested. “If she knew of it, unless she was taken by force to America, then she is an accomplice at least, and an accessory after the fact.”
    Oliver said quickly, “I don’t know beyond doubt, but from what Monk told me, she cannot be unaware of the truth. She and Breeland were together the whole of the night Alberton was murdered, and she certainly was not in America under duress.” He hesitated. “And a watch that Breeland gave her as a keepsake was found in the warehouse yard.”
    Henry said nothing, but his expression was eloquent.
    Outside, the shadows were lengthening on the lawn and the air was definitely cooler. A three-quarter moon was luminous in the fading sky. The sun had gone even from the poplars.
    “I am obliged to defend Breeland also.” Oliver stated the inevitable. “Unless he insists on his own man, in which case I imagine Merrit Alberton will choose to have the same person, whatever her family wants.”
    “And will you accept him as a client, believing him guilty?” Henry asked. “Knowing that his condemnation will certainly mean the girl’s as well?”
    It was a moral dilemma Oliver disliked acutely. He found the murders unusually repellent because they were brutal, and as far as he could see, also unnecessary. Breeland, or anyone else, could have stolen the guns without killing Alberton and the guards. They could have been left unconscious and bound, and still been unable to prevent the theft. By the time they were found Breeland had been safely away. The killing accomplished nothing and it was a gratuitous cruelty.
    He would far rather have defended Merrit, even if it were no better than pleading her youth and a certain amount of duress or intimidation, and that she had not foreseen the violence. No such argument was feasible for Breeland.
    “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I need to understand a great deal more before I can even formulate what defense to make.”
    The silence remained unbroken for some time. Henry stood up and closed the French doors, then returned to his seat.
    “There is also the matter of the blackmail,” Oliver resumed, and to Henry’s surprise, told him what Monk had said briefly of Alberton’s urgent reason for consulting him. “I suppose that could be involved,” he finished dubiously.
    “Well, you certainly need to find out who was responsible,” Henry agreed. “Perhaps they took revenge for not having been sold their guns.”
    “But Breeland lied about the guns!” Oliver went back to the one fact that seemed inescapable.