William Monk 13 - Death of a Stranger

is of a size to give individual advice and attention to a good client.” He saw Dalgarno’s eyes flicker. It was only a slight widening, a greater stillness, but he was experienced in observing people and reading the unspoken word, and he allowed Dalgarno to perceive that. He leaned back a little and smiled, adding no more.
    Dalgarno understood. “I see. What sort of quantities are we speaking of, Mr. Monk?”
    From some untapped recess of memory, the answer came to his tongue. “Five hundred miles of track, to begin with,” he answered. “If it is successful, going up to at least two thousand over the next ten years. Approximately half of it would be over easy terrain, the other half would involve a good deal of cutting and blasting, probably at least five miles of tunneling. The rolling stock would begin with a hundred goods wagons, and perhaps as many passenger carriages, but we have excellent manufacturers in mind for the latter. Of course, we could always entertain another offer if it proved to be better.”
    “Let me understand you, Mr. Monk.” Dalgarno’s expression was utterly relaxed, as if he were only mildly interested, but Monk could see the tension in the muscles beneath the eloquent lines of his jacket. Far more than anything he saw or heard betrayed in Dalgarno’s voice, he knew exactly how Dalgarno felt. He had sat in such a chair at Dalgarno’s age. He could feel it as if he were sitting there now. It was deeper than memory; it was an understanding almost in the bone. With no idea why, his mind could change places with Dalgarno’s.
    “You are going to ask me if better means cheaper,” Monk said for him. “It means better value for the money, Mr. Dalgarno. It must be safe; accidents are expensive. And it must last. A thing that has to be replaced before its time is expensive, however little you pay for it. There is cost in purchase, in contracts, in haulage, in disposal of the old, and above all in idleness while you obtain the new.”
    Dalgarno smiled—a broad, instinctive gesture. He had excellent teeth. “Your points are well taken, Mr. Monk. I can assure you that any offer Baltimore and Sons might make would meet with all your criteria.”
    Monk smiled more widely himself. He had no intention of committing to anything, both because Dalgarno would have no respect for him if he did and because he wanted to remain in Dalgarno’s company for as long as possible. It was his only opportunity to form a personal opinion of the man. Already he found it hard to believe Dalgarno was anybody’s dupe. He would never meet Nolan Baltimore to know if he might have used and misled the younger members of his company, but if he had, Monk doubted it would have included this man opposite him. There was an alertness, a confidence in Dalgarno he could feel, as if he knew the man’s thoughts and could sense his nature. He understood very well why Katrina Harcus was in love with him, but not why she was convinced of his innocence. Surely that was a blindness of the heart?
    “If I submit all the particulars,” Monk went on aloud, “would you be able to give me times, costs, and specifications within a month, Mr. Dalgarno?”
    “Yes,” Dalgarno said without hesitation. “Delivery might take a little while, especially of rolling stock. We have a very large order in place already, to be shipped to India. That country is building at a great rate, as I am sure you are aware.”
    “Yes, of course. But I am impressed that you ship to India!” He was astounded, although he could not have said why.
    Dalgarno relaxed, putting his fingers together in a steeple in front of him. “Not us, Mr. Monk. Unfortunately, we are not yet large enough for that. But we are supplying components to another company. But I assume you know this.”
    That was not really a question. He was taking it for granted that Monk was testing him, and he was allowing his candor to show.
    Monk recovered himself rapidly. “Can you speak for your senior partner also?”
    Dalgarno’s face clouded. It was impossible to tell if his hesitation was genuine or a matter of propriety. “Tragically, our senior partner died recently,” he answered. “But he is succeeded by his son, Mr. Jarvis Baltimore, who is more than able to take his place.”
    “I’m sorry,” Monk said appropriately. “Please accept my condolences.”
    “Thank you,” Dalgarno accepted. “You will appreciate that at this moment Mr. Jarvis Baltimore is somewhat