William Monk 16 - Execution Dock

straight in without waiting for her to answer. He closed the door behind him. He looked angry and worried. He had a piece of stiff, white notepaper in his hand. He started to speak without even the barest civility of a greeting.
    Two days! he said sharply. “Nothing at all, not a word. And now ‘ere's her ‘usband writing us letters demanding ‘er ter come ‘ome.” He waved the paper in proof.
    “Who?” Hester asked him. She did not question his manners; she could see that he was very obviously distressed.
    “‘Er ‘usband!” he snapped. He looked at the papers. “Wallace Burroughs.”
    Then she understood, and was instantly as concerned as he. “You mean Claudine hasn't been here for two days? And she hasn't been home either?”
    He closed his eyes in exasperation. “That's wot I jus’ said! She's gorn missing, taken off, the stupid …” He fumbled for a word violent enough to express his emotions, and failed to find one he could use in front of her.
    “Show me.” Hester held her hand out for the note, and he passed it to her. It was brief to the point of curtness, but perfectly explicit. He said he had forbidden Claudine to involve herself any more deeply in the affairs of the clinic, and she had apparently defied him, and had now been missing from her home and her duties for two whole days and nights. He required immediately that whoever was in charge of the clinic should send Claudine home, and not in future address her or importune her for further assistance, either with time or for financial offerings.
    At another time Hester would have been furious with his arrogance and his patronizing and domineering manner, but she read in his tone not only injured pride but also genuine anxiety, not just for his own well-being but for Claudine's.
    “This is serious, Squeaky.” She looked up at him. “If she isn't at home, and she isn't here, then it may be that she is in some trouble.”
    “I know that!” he said sharply, his voice unusually loud. “Why d'yer think I came ter yer? She's gorn an’ done summink stupid.”
    “What sort of thing? What do you know, Squeaky?”
    “I dunno nothin’ or I'd be tellin’ yer,” he said. His exasperation had reached the point where he could not keep still. He moved his weight from one foot to the other in agitation. “Nobody's gonna listen ter me. Yer'll ‘ave ter ask Bessie an’ Ruby an’ anyone else, or put the wordout. Tell Mr. Monk, if yer ‘ave ter. We gotta find ‘er, or she'll come ter some ‘arm. Gawd knows, she's daft enough.”
    Hester drew breath to give a string of alternatives as to where Claudine could be, all of them safe, but of course she knew that Claudine would not have gone on any kind of social trip without telling them, and at the moment her mind was worried and angry over Jericho Phillips, just as they all were.
    “I'll speak to Ruby and Bessie.” She stood up. “Then if they have nothing, I'll start with the women we have in at the moment.”
    “Good,” he said firmly. He hesitated over whether to thank her or not, and decided not to. She was doing it for herself, not for him. “I'll wait ‘ere,” he finished.
    She left him and went to find Bessie, who knew nothing at all, except that she thought Ruby was looking busy and self-important these last couple of days, and now she was a bit preoccupied this morning.
    “Thank you,” Hester said fervently.
    Ruby was alone in the scullery looking over what vegetables they had left.
    Hester decided to preempt any denial by assuming guilt, not a practice she normally approved, but this was not normal. Claudine was lost, and they must find her, and ease any damage to any hurt feelings later.
    “Good morning, Ruby,” she began. “Please forget the carrots and listen to me. Mrs. Burroughs is missing and may be in trouble, or even danger. Her husband does not know where she is. She has not been home for two nights, and she has not been here either. If you know something, you must tell me, immediately.”
    “She were ‘ere night afore last,” Ruby said intently, dropping a bunch of carrots on to the bench.
    “No one saw her here. Are you sure you have the correct night?” Hester asked her.
    “Yes, Miss. She came in tired and pretty rough. Din't want no one ter see ‘er. Slept in the fever room. Went out early. I saw ‘er.”
    “Did you, indeed? Where did she go?”
    Ruby looked straight at her. “I can't tell you, Miss. I gave ‘er me word.” Her eyes were