William Monk 18 - A Sunless Sea

went in after her. She made a couple of mistakes, having to apologize before she knocked at the right room.
    Gladys opened it cautiously. It was early to expect custom. There was still daylight outside, and a prospective client might far too easily meet someone he knew on the street. His presence here might be difficult to explain.
    “Hello, Gladys,” Hester said with a quick smile. There was no point in pretending she had come other than for a favor. Gladys knew the way of survival and would not appreciate being patronized by lies.
    Hester held up a bottle of the tonic cordial she knew was Gladys’s favorite.
    Gladys regarded it with pleasure, then suspicion. “I ain’t sayin’ as I’m not grateful, nor pleased ter see yer, but wot d’yer want?” she said skeptically.
    “Not to stand at the door, for a start,” Hester replied, still smiling.
    Gladys backed in reluctantly.
    Hester followed her. The room was cleaner than she had expected. There were no signs of trade here, only a faint odor of sweat, and recently eaten food.
    “Thank you.” Hester sat down on the edge of one of the chairs. Shekept the bottle of cordial in her hand. It should be understood that this was a bargain, not a gift.
    Gladys sat down opposite her, also on the edge of her chair, uneasily.
    “Wot d’yer want, then?” she repeated.
    “Information.”
    “I dunno nothin’.” The response was instinctive and immediate.
    “Rubbish,” Hester said briskly. “Women who know nothing don’t survive very long. Don’t lie to me, and I won’t lie to you.”
    Gladys shrugged, admitting at least a degree of defeat. “Wot are yer askin’?”
    “Did you know Zenia Gadney?” Hester replied.
    The color drained out of Gladys’s face, leaving her ashen. “Gawd! I don’t know nothin’ about that, I swear!”
    “I’m sure you don’t know anything about the murder,” Hester agreed, telling something close to the truth. “I want to know what she was like.”
    “Wot d’yer mean, wot she were like?” Gladys blinked in confusion.
    Was she playing for time, or did she really not understand? Hester put her hand lightly on the cordial bottle. “This stuff is quite good for your health,” she remarked.
    “Well, it in’t goin’ ter cure a slit throat!” Gladys said huskily. “Or yer guts torn out an’ tied around yer waist, is it!”
    “Why should anyone do that to you?” Hester raised her eyebrows. “Anyway, her throat wasn’t slit. She was hit on the back of her head. She wouldn’t have known anything that happened after that, poor soul. You didn’t have an affair with Dr. Lambourn, did you?”
    Gladys was startled. “Course I din’t! ’E weren’t like that. All ’e wanted were ter know ’ow easy it were ter buy opium, an’ if I knew wot was in the stuff I got ter ’elp me sleep, or when I got a bellyache.”
    “And did you?” Hester tried to keep some of the eagerness out of her voice. She could not afford to have Gladys sense how much she needed the information. “Did you know what was in it, and how much to take? Or how long before you could take more?”
    “I know it works, I don’t need ter know nothin’ else, do I!” Gladys retorted.
    “Is that what he asked you?”
    “ ’E weren’t askin’ me, ’e were askin’ them wot ’as kids. I were just there.”
    “Did you know Zenia Gadney?” Hester went back to her first question.
    “Yeah. Why?”
    “What was she like?”
    “Yer said that already. Wot kind o’ thing d’yer want ter know?” Gladys shook her head. “She were older’n me, quiet, not much ter look at, but clean. It’s all on wot yer like, in’t it? Some folk like ’em ordinary, but willin’ ter do anything, if yer get me meanin’? Like their wives, but easier.”
    “Yes, I understand you. Is that what Zenia was like? Actually, she’s not much like Mrs. Lambourn at all.”
    “Wot’s Mrs. Lambourn like, then?” Gladys was curious.
    Hester remembered what Monk had said, and the effect she appeared to have had on him. “Handsome, very striking indeed,” she replied. “Tall and dark, with very fine eyes.”
    Gladys shook her head, completely bewildered. “Well, Zenia weren’t nothin’ like that. She were as dull as a mouse, all browny-gray and quiet. In fact, she were a real bore, but nice, like, if yer know wot I mean? Din’t talk down at nobody. Din’t lose ’er temper nor tell lies about yer. Nor she din’t steal nothin’.”
    Hester was puzzled as well.