William Monk 19 - Blind Justice

well.
    Raleigh looked surprised.
    “The man is dead,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Any judgment of him is in God’s hands now. I have no wish to pursue vengeance. It is unbecoming in a Christian, Mr. Monk. Or for that matter a gentleman who considers himself a man of honor, whatever his creed.”
    Monk found himself with an even greater respect for this quiet, seemingly ordinary man. He marveled at how easy it was to make judgments based on a few outward details, possibly only of worldly success: money, skill, confidence. How wrong those judgments often ended up being.
    “It is not vengeance I want, Mr. Raleigh,” he said gently. “I need to understand why Taft took his own life, and that of his family. I am hoping to prove that it was in no way linked to Sir Oliver’s actions during the trial, his allowing the obscene photograph of Robertson Drew to influence Drew’s testimony and thus the outcome. Sir Oliver is a longtime friend of mine, and his defense is important to me and to my wife.”
    “Ah,” Raleigh said quietly. “I see. That is rather different. How can I help you?”
    “Tell me something about Taft,” Monk replied. “Describe him for me, not his appearance or his dress but his manner. What drew you to him? And please be completely honest.”
    “I will. I think I owe Sir Oliver, and most certainly Mrs. Monk, the most candid observation I can give.” Raleigh thought for several minutes before answering, choosing his words very carefully. “To begin with I thought him a gentleman of great honesty and a remarkable dedication to the Church, and to true Christianity.” He measured his words.“As I came to know him better I found certain mannerisms of his annoying. I considered it a weakness in myself. I am still not certain if it is not so—”
    “What mannerisms?” Monk interrupted.
    “What seemed to me like a degree more of self-importance than I think to be good taste. A remarkable number of conversations and discussions seemed to center on him. Even stories that held a considerable trace of humor, or of self-criticism, still were always about him. I began to find it somewhat tedious, and was ashamed for doing so. He often spoke of his humility.” Raleigh smiled, catching Monk’s eye. “So often that I began to wonder why. You understand, humility is not speaking of yourself as humble, it is not speaking of yourself at all.”
    “A very good distinction,” Monk agreed sincerely.
    “Thank you.” Raleigh colored faintly. “He appeared to be devoted to his wife, frequently praising her virtues. But I noticed he never allowed her to speak for herself. I compared his daughters with my Josephine, at the same age, and they seemed to me in a way crushed, uncertain of themselves, as if they dared not express an opinion of their own. They had not the fervor or the freedom of dreams that the young should have.” He stopped for a moment. “I don’t know how to express this honestly without sounding as if I am trying to damn a man who cannot speak for himself.”
    “You cannot help him, Mr. Raleigh,” Monk reminded him. “Perhaps you can help Sir Oliver. What were your impressions of Mr. Taft’s relationship with Mr. Drew?”
    “You are very direct,” Raleigh observed. He seemed almost amused.
    “Indeed,” Monk nodded again but did not say anything further.
    “I am less certain about his relationship with Mr. Drew,” Raleigh continued. “It is only an impression, but I thought Taft was the leader between the two of them. He was the one gifted with charm and easy words. Drew was more of a man to organize things, to act behind the scenes. He had no apparent hunger for the limelight.”
    “Hunger for the limelight.” Monk repeated the phrase. “That is very well put, Mr. Raleigh.”
    Raleigh colored. “An unkind observation of a man of the cloth, Mr. Monk. I am not proud of it.”
    “Many of us do good works with something less than an ‘eye single to the glory of God,’ sir,” Monk said softly. “It does not make the works themselves less good, and it leaves us room for improvement.”
    Raleigh smiled suddenly. “You make the trait sound almost—likable.”
    Monk also smiled. “Aside from Drew keeping out of the limelight, did you notice anything else about their relationship?” he prompted.
    “I thought they worked very closely together,” Raleigh responded. “I saw no friction between them at all. Certainly there was no visible envy or