They walked together for forty or fifty yards, searching to left and right for any place that could be used for concealment. She found herself feeling more and more as if she was wasting her time-and more important, Robb’s time as well. She had believed Miriam’s story because she wanted to, for Cleo’s sake, not because it was really credible.
'Sergeant Robb,' she began.
He turned around, the beam of light swinging across the two trees to their right. It caught for a moment on a tangle in the lower branches.
'What’s that?' he said quickly.
'An old bird’s nest,' she replied. 'Last year’s, by the look of it.'
He played the light on it, then moved forward to look more closely.
'What?' she asked, with curiosity more than hope. 'Clever how they weave them, isn’t it? Especially since they haven’t got any hands.'
He passed her the lantern. 'Hold this onto it, please. I want to take a closer look.'
'At a bird’s nest?' But she did as he requested, and kept the light steady.
With hands free it was easy enough for him to climb up until he was level with the nest and peer inside where it was caught in a fork in the branches, close to the trunk.
'What is it?' she called up.
He turned around, his face a shadowed mask in the upturned beam.
'Hair,' he answered her. 'Long hair, lots of it. The whole nest is lined with hair.' His voice was shaking. 'I’m going to look for a hollow tree. You just hold the light, and keep your eyes away.'
She felt a lurch inside. She had no longer believed it, and now here it was. They were almost there-in the next half hour-more or less…
'Yes,' she said unsteadily. 'Yes, of course.'
Actually, it took him only fifteen minutes to find the tree with the hollow core, blasted by some ancient lightning and now rotted. It was closer to the road than the nest, but the spread of branches hid the hole until it was deliberately sought. Perhaps twenty-two years ago it had been more obvious. The entire tree was hollow down the heart.
'It’s in there,' Robb said huskily, climbing down again, the lantern tied to his belt. His legs were shaking when he reached the ground. 'It’s only a skeleton, but there’s still cloth left…' He blinked, and his face looked yellow-gray in the beam. 'From the head, she was killed by one terrible blow… like Treadwell… and Mrs. Stourbridge.'
13
Rathbone had slept little. A messenger had arrived at his rooms after midnight with a note from Hester:
He had found it impossible to rest. An hour later he had made himself a hot drink and was pacing the study floor trying to formulate a strategy for the next day. Eventually, he went back to bed and sank into a deep sleep, when it seemed immediately time to get up.
His head ached and his mouth was dry. His manservant brought him breakfast, but he ate only toast and drank a cup of tea, then left straightaway for the courtroom. He was far too early, and the time he had expected to use in preparing himself he wasted in pointless moving from one place to another, and conversation from which he learned nothing.
Tobias was in excellent spirits. He passed Rathbone in the corridor and wished him well with a wry smile. He would have preferred a little fight of it. Such an easy victory was of little savor.
The gallery was half empty again. The public had already made up their minds, and the few spectators present were there only to see justice done and taste a certain vengeance. The startling exceptions to this were Lucius and Harry Stourbridge, who sat towards the front, side by side, and even at a distance, very obviously supporting each other in silent companionship of anguish.
The judge called the court to order.
'Have you any further witnesses, Sir Oliver?' he asked.
'Yes, my lord. I would like to call Hester Monk.'
Tobias looked across curiously.
The judge raised his eyebrows, but with no objection.
Rathbone smiled very slightly.
The usher called for Hester.
She took the stand looking tired and pale-faced, but absolutely confident, and she very deliberately turned and looked up towards the dock and nodded to both Cleo and Miriam. Then she waited for Rathbone to begin.
Rathbone cleared his throat. 'Mrs. Monk, were you in court yesterday when Mrs. Anderson testified to the extraordinary story Miriam Gardiner told when she was first found bleeding and hysterical on Hampstead Heath twenty-two years ago?'
'Yes, I was.'
'Did you follow any course of action because of that?'
'Yes, I went to look for the body of the woman Miriam said she saw murdered.'
Tobias made a sound of derision, halfway between a cough and a snort.
The judge leaned forward enquiringly. 'Sir Oliver, is this really relevant at this stage?'
'Yes, my lord, most relevant,' Rathbone answered with satisfaction. At last there was a warmth inside him, a sense that he could offer a battle. Assuredly, he could startle the equanimity from Tobias’s face.
'Then please make that apparent,' the judge directed.
'Yes, my lord. Mrs. Monk, did you find a body?'
The court was silent, but not in anticipation. He barely had the jurors’ attention.
'Yes, Sir Oliver, I did.'
Tobias started forward, jerking upright from the seat where he had been all but sprawled.
There was a wave of sound and movement from the gallery, a hiss of indrawn breath.
The judge leaned across to Hester. 'Do I hear you correctly, madam? You say you found a body?'
'Yes, my lord. Of course, I was not alone. I took Sergeant Michael Robb with me from the beginning. It was actually he who found it.'
'This is very serious indeed.' He frowned at her, his face pinched and earnest. 'Where is the body now and what can you tell me of it?'
'It is in the police morgue in Hampstead, my lord, and my knowledge of it is closely observed, but only as a nurse, not a doctor.'
'You are a nurse?' He was astounded.
'Yes, my lord. I served in the Crimea.'
'Good gracious.' He sat back. 'Sir Oliver, you had better proceed. But before you do so, I will have order in this court. The next man or woman to make an unwarranted noise will be removed! Continue.'
'Thank you, my lord.' Rathbone turned to Hester. 'Where did you find the body, Mrs. Monk, precisely?'
'In a hollow tree on Hampstead Heath,' she replied. 'We started walking from Mrs. Anderson’s house on Green Man Hill, looking for the sort of place where a body might be concealed, assuming that Mrs. Gardiner’s story was true.'
'What led you to look in a hollow tree?'
There was total silence in the court. Not a soul moved.
'A bird’s nest with a lot of human hair woven into it, caught in one of the lower branches of a tree near it,' Hester answered. 'We searched all around until we found the hollow one. Sergeant Robb climbed up and found the hole. Of course, the area will have grown over a great deal in twenty-two years. It could have been easier to see, to
