“Yes he did, months ago, over a year now, and Mother-in-law knew about it at the time. She paid it all back.”
Alastair exploded with disbelief. “Oh really, Quin! Don’t expect me to believe all that. I know how you feel about Baird, but this is absurd. Why on earth would Mother cover up Kenneth’s embezzlement and simply repay it all? I presume we are not speaking about a few pennies. That would hardly fund the life he enjoys and keep his poverty-stricken mistress in the diamonds she apparently likes so much.”
“Of course not,” Quinlan agreed with a twist of his mouth. “If you look at Mother-in-law’s will, you will find that Kenneth gets nothing at all. She took his share in settlement of his debt-both for the embezzlement and, I imagine, the brooch. She knew about that too.” His eyes stared levelly at Alastair, so absolutely without wavering, Monk wondered if this last was a lie.
Alastair said nothing.
Quinlan smiled. “Come on, Alastair. That is what Mother-in-law would have done, and you know it She would never have precipitated a scandal by prosecuting her own son. We all knew her better than mat-even Kenneth. Not when the remedy lay so easily to hand.” He shrugged very slightly. “Certainly she punished him, and redeemed the debt at the same time. If he’d done it again she’d have taken it out of his skin-she would have had him work all day and all night till it was earned again. I daresay she’d received one or two nice presents in her day…”
“How dare you-” Alastair began furiously, but Oonagh cut him off.
“I presume the solicitors will know this much?” she said quietly.
“Of course,” Quinlan agreed. “There is no reason given in the will, except that Kenneth himself will understand why he has no inheritance, and have no complaints.”
“How do you know this, when the rest of the family doesn’t?” Monk asked him.
Quinlan’s eyebrows rose. “Me? Because as I said before, I conducted a great deal of her affairs for her. I am extremely good at business, especially investments, and Mother-in-law knew it. Besides, Alastair is too busy, Baird has no head for it, and obviously she would be a complete fool to trust Kenneth.”
“If you know so much about the business,” Eilish challenged him in a choking voice, “how is it you knew nothing about the land in Easter Ross and that she was getting no rent from it?”
Kenneth seemed to be forgotten, at least temporarily. All eyes turned to Eilish, and then to Baird. No one took the slightest notice of Monk or Hester.
Baird looked up at them, his face wretched.
“Mary knew everything that I did, and it was done with her permission,” he said quietly. “That is all I will tell you.”
“Well, it is not enough.” Alastair swung around at him desperately. “Good God, man! Mother is dead-poisoned by someone. The police aren’t going to accept an answer like that. If Miss Latterly didn’t do it, then one of us did!”
“I didn’t.” Band’s voice was barely a whisper between his lips. “I loved Mary, more than anyone else… except…” He stopped. Few in the room doubted he was going to say “Eilish,” not “Oonagh.”
Oonagh was very pale, but perfectly composed. Whatever emotions tore her at such a reality, they were too well concealed by time, familiarity, or sheer courage to show now.
“Of course,” Alastair said bitterly. “We would hardly expect you to say anything less. But words are immaterial now; it is only facts that matter.”
“Nobody knows the facts,” Quinlan pointed out “We only know what Mary’s papers say, what the bankers say, and Baird’s excuses. I don’t know what other facts you think there are.”
“I imagine the police may think that sufficient,” Monk responded. “At least for trial. What else they find, or need, is their affair.”
“Is that what you are going to do?” Eilish was desperate; it stared out of her anguished face and rang in the rising pitch of her voice. “Just accuse, and leave it to the police? Baird is one of the family. We’ve lived with him in this house, known him every day for years, shared our dreams and our hopes with him. You can’t just-just say he’s guilty-and abandon him.” She looked wildly from one to another of them, all except Quinlan, ending with Oonagh, perhaps to whom she had always turned in times of need.
“We are not abandoning him, my dear,” Oonagh said quietly. “But we have no alternative to facing the truth, however terrible it is for us. One of us killed Mother.”
Unintentionally Eilish looked again at Hester, then blushed scarlet.
“That won’t work, my sweet,” Quinlan said sourly. “Of course it is still possible. ‘Not proven’ is a vicious verdict, but they cannot try her again, whatever they think. And let us face facts, her reason hardly matches Baud’s. He could have slipped the brooch into her bag… she could hardly have embezzled Mother-in-law’s rents.”
“For God’s sake, Baird, why don’t you say something?” Deirdra burst out after her long silence. She went to Eilish and put her arm around her. “Can’t you see what this is doing to all of us?”
“Deirdra, please control your language,” Alastair reproved almost automatically.
Monk was amused. If Alastair had the faintest idea of his wife’s midnight activities, he would be grateful it was so relatively mild. Monk would swear she knew a great deal that was more colorful than that from her mechanic friend.
“There seems only one way.” Hester spoke for the first time since the charge had been made against Baird. Everyone looked at her with some surprise.
“I don’t know what it can be.” Alastair frowned. “Do you know something that we don’t?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Quinlan said. “Mother-in-law would hardly confide her business to Miss Latterly on one day’s acquaintance, and not tell at least Oonagh, if not all of us.”
“Miss Latterly?” Alastair turned to her.
“One of us must go to the croft in Ross-shire and learn what has happened to the rents,” she replied. “I have no idea how far it is, but it hardly matters. It must be done.”
“And which of us will you trust?” Deirdra asked dryly. “I can think of no one.”
“Monk, of course,” Hester replied. “He has no interest whatever in the answer one way or the other.”
“As long as it is not you,” Quinlan added. “I think his interest in the case is now quite obvious to all. He came here originally talking what, at the kindest, was much less than the truth, what less kindly but more accurately was a complete lie.”
“Would you have helped him for the truth?” she asked.
Quinlan smiled. “Of course not. I am not accusing, merely pointing out that Mr. Monk is not the paragon of honesty you seem to imagine.”
“I don’t imagine it,” she said crossly. “I simply said he has no interest in which of you is lying or what happened to the rents.”
“What a charming turn of phrase you have.”
Hester blushed hotly.
“Please!” Deirdra interrupted them, turning to Monk. “All this is beside the point now. Mr. Monk, would you learn the particulars from Quinlan and travel north to Easter Ross, find the person who leases the croft and what they have done with the rents, to whom they were paid. I imagine it will be necessary to bring with you some burden of proof, documents, or whatever it may be. Probably- a sworn testimony…”
“An affidavit,” Alastair supplied. “I presume there will be notaries public, or justices of the peace, even up there.”
“Yes,” Monk said immediately, although he was irritated he had not suggested it himself, before Hester had. Then as quickly he wondered how he was going to find the fare. He lived precariously as it was. Callandra provided for him in lean times, when his clients were few, or poor, in return for his sharing the interesting cases with her. It was her form of both friendship and philanthropy, and her occasional excitement and touch of danger. But she had gone home, and he could not ask her for a contribution towards this. She had already paid him for his part in Hester’s defense, sufficient to take him to Scotland and to secure his lodgings, both here and in London during his absence. She had not known such a prolonged trip would be necessary.
“How far is it?” he said aloud. It galled him intensely to have to ask.
Alastair’s eyes widened. “I have no idea. Two hundred miles? Three hundred?”
“It isn’t so far,” Deirdra contradicted him. ‘Two hundred at most. But we will provide your fare, Mr. Monk. After all, it is our business which takes you there, not your own.” She disregarded Alastair’s frown and Oonagh’s look of faint surprise and a flicker of black humor. She at least understood that it was to remove the final question from
