William Monk 15 - Dark Assassin

also. “That sounds so terribly reasonable, doesn’t it? But it’s not true!”
    Hester recounted what Monk had told her the previous evening—at least regarding the cook’s opinion of Mary, though not yet about the letter.
    “That is the Mary I know,” Rose agreed quickly. She leaned forward.
    “She was not a sentimental sort of person, Mrs. Monk. She was very practical and quite able to stand up to a truth she did not wish to hear, if it was indeed the truth. I don’t know where to begin, but if you have any idea at all, please let us do something to establish her innocence.”
    “Innocence…?”
    “Of having killed herself!” Rose said quickly, the emotion now clear in her face, her eyes very bright as though on the brink of tears. “And, if the account is true—God forgive me—innocent of having taken Toby Argyll with her. That is a terrible thing to think of anyone, and I refuse to let it be said by default, because it would be easier for us all to pretend it was over.”
    Hester was suddenly heartened. “What are the alternatives?” she asked. “What did happen? How can we demonstrate it so it cannot be denied?”
    “Oh, dear!” Rose sat bolt upright. “I see what you mean. If it was not suicide, then it was an accident, or it was murder. That is a very dreadful thought.”
    “It seems to me to be inescapable,” Hester pointed out.
    The door opened and Morgan Applegate came in. His eyes went immediately to his wife, then to Hester. He was polite and, to judge from the expression on his face, pleased to see her. However, there was something faintly protective in the way he went to Rose and remained standing by her chair, as if, without even giving it a thought, he would make certain Hester did not somehow distress or disturb her.
    “How are you, Mrs. Monk?” he said agreeably. “Has there been progress so soon?”
    Rose swung around to look at him. “In essence there has, Morgan,” she replied. “We came face-to-face with irrefutable logic, and we must go forward. Actually, Mr. Monk allowed the possibility of accident, but I do not. Two such accidents—it is absurd. Either Mr. Havilland and Mary both took their own lives, or Toby Argyll tried to kill Mary and fell in himself.”
    “Rose…,” he started to say, his face now heavy with concern.
    “Oh, it’s inescapable,” she said, brushing aside his interruption, and turned again to Hester. “The question is: Who killed Mary? And it must be whoever killed James Havilland.”
    “Your logic is at fault, my dear,” Applegate said gently, but his voice was quite firm. “According to the police, there was no one involved in poor Mary’s death apart from Toby Argyll, and he, poor man, went off the bridge with her. If he was responsible, then he has already paid the ultimate price.”
    Rose looked at him patiently. “You have missed the point, Morgan. I am not concerned with trying to have someone pay! I wish to clear Mary of the sin of suicide, and of Toby’s death also, if any might suppose she meant to pull him over. And I want to vindicate her father as well, which is what she wanted above all things.”
    “But—” he started.
    “And possibly even more important,” she went on, as if he had not spoken, “I want to show that they were both right in their fear of some terrible accident, so that we can still prevent it. So you see we are anything but finished! Is that not so, Mrs. Monk?” She turned her steady, bright gaze on Hester.
    “Rose!” Applegate said exasperatedly. “You are placing Mrs. Monk in an impossible position! Please, you must not embarrass her.”
    “I am not embarrassed,” Hester lied quickly. “But if I were, it could hardly matter! We are speaking of other people’s deaths, and of the possible deaths and mutilation of scores of men, even hundreds, if there should be a major cave-in or a flood.”
    “You see?” Rose said with finality. “We must do everything we can, and we shall begin by learning whatever it was that Mary already knew.”
    Applegate looked at Hester with some desperation. “You seem to have an understanding of logic, Mrs. Monk. Either you are right or you are mistaken in this. If you are mistaken, there is no point in pursuing it, and you may damage the reputations of good men who have already suffered deeply in the loss of those they loved. I speak in particular of Alan Argyll.” He spread his hands. “But if you are right, then he has been the cause of Havilland’s