could well have had a kind of charm. She was certainly fluent enough with words, and there was a cockiness in her walk and the attitude of her head. There was nothing of self-pity in her. She seemed as curious about Monk as he was about her. 'W'y dyer wanna know, eh? Wot's 'e done toyer? If 'e broke the law, I in't shoppin' 'im.”
'He didn't hurt you?”
'Urt me? Wo's matter wiv yer? Course 'e din't 'urt me! W'y'd 'e 'urt me?”
'Did he pay you?”
'W'y yer wanna know?' She put her head on one side, looking at him out of wide, dark brown eyes. 'Like lookin' at fellas, do yer?' There was the beginning of contempt in her voice. 'Cost yer!”
'No, I don't,' he said tartly. 'A lot of women have been raped and beaten, mostly in Seven Dials, but some here. I'm after whoever did it.”
'Geez!' she said in awe. 'Well, nobody 'urt me. 'E paid proper an' willin'.”
'When was that? Please try to recall.”
She thought for a moment.
'Was it before or after Christmas?' he prompted. 'New Year?”
'It were between,' she said with sudden enlightenment. 'Then 'e came again arter New Year. W'y? Can't yer tell me wy? Ye don' think as it were 'im, do yer?”
'What do you think?”
'Never!' She tilted her head to one side. 'Were it? 'Onest?”
'When was the last time you saw him?”
'Dunno. I din' see 'im for a couple o' weeks afore them blokes was done in Water Lane. Rozzers all over the place arter that. In't good for business.”
He took out the picture of Leighton Duff. 'Did you ever see this man?”
She studied it. 'No.”
'Are you sure?”
'Yeah. I never seen 'im. 'Oo is 'e? Is 'e the bloke wot got beat ter death?”
'Yes.”
'Well, I see'd Rhys, that's 'is name, wi' other gents, but this geezer weren't one of 'em. They was young, like 'im. One were real and some Called is self 'King', or 'Prince' or sum mink like that. The other were Arfur.”
'Duke, perhaps?' Monk felt his pulse beating like a hammer. This was it, this was the three of them seen together, and named.
'Yeah… that's right! Were he a duke, for real?”
'No. It's just short for Marmaduke!”
'Oh… Shame. Like ter fink as I'd 'ad a duke. Still, never mind, eh? All the same wif their pants orff.' She laughed with genuine humour at the absurdity of pretension.
'And they all paid you?' he pressed one more time.
'Nah… that Duke were a nasty piece o' work. 'E'd a 'it me if I'd 'a pushed, so I din't. Jus' took wot I could.”
'Did he hit you?”
'Nah. I knows well ter push me luck, an' well not ter.”
'Did you see him the night of the murder?”
'Nah.”
'None of them?”
'Nah.”
'I see. Thank you.' He produced a shilling, all the change he had left, and gave it to her.
He continued in his search. As he was already aware, the word had spread whom he was seeking and why. For once co-operation was less grudgingly given. Once or twice it was even volunteered. He wanted one more piece, if possible. Had there been a victim that night? Had Leighton Duff caught them before they had attacked, or after? Was there any room at all for denial?
If they had been exultant, intoxicated with the excitement of their victory, dishevelled, perhaps marked with blood, then there was nothing else left to seek. Once Evan knew where to look, whom to question, and had the force of law behind him and the crime of murder, no more rape of women society chose to forget, but a man who was at the heart and core of their own, and the rest could be concerned, proof enough for any court.
It took him another complete day, but at last he found her, a woman in her forties, still pretty in spite of her tiredness and persistent cough. Her cheekbone was broken and she limped badly. She was severely bruised. Yes, they had raped her, but she had not had the strength to fight, and that in itself had seemed to anger them. She was lucky. They had been interrupted.
'Don' tell anyone!' she begged. 'I'll lose me job!”
He wished he could promise her that. He said what he could.
'They went on to commit murder, within a few minutes of leaving you,” he said grimly. 'You won't need to say you were raped. You can swear you were walking along the street and they fell on you… that will be good enough.”
'Yeah?' she looked doubtful.
'Yes,' he said firmly. 'Where was it?”
Her voice was husky, her face pale. 'Just orff Water Lane.”
'Thank you. That will be enough… I promise.”
It was sufficient. He would have to take it to Evan. He could not conceal it any longer. It was material evidence on the murder of Leighton Duff. If Rhys and his friends had been using prostitutes in St. Giles, which was now unarguable, and it had escalated in violence over the months, then it seemed more than likely that Leighton Duff had found out and had followed him, going to St. Giles just the once. That was borne out by Monk's lack of ability to find anyone who had recognised him. That was ample motive for the quarrel which had followed, the battle which had gone so far it could only end in the death of the one person who knew the truth of what he had done… his father. Whether Arthur and Marmaduke Kynaston had been present or not, what part they had played, would have to be proved.
But Monk must go to Evan.
First he would tell Hester. She should not learn it when Evan came to arrest Rhys. He hated having to tell her, but it would be worse if he evaded the issue. As the man in the street who had named Fanny had said, not even his worst enemies had accused him of cowardice.
It was late when he arrived at Ebury Street. A pale moon glittered in a frosty sky and over towards the east the clouds obscured the faint light and promised more snow.
The butler opened the door and said he would enquire whether Miss Latterly was able to receive him. Ten minutes later he was in the library beside a very small fire when Hester came in. She looked frightened. She closed the door behind her, her eyes fixed on his face, searching.
'What is it?' she said without preamble. 'What has happened?”
She looked so fierce and vulnerable he ached to be able to shield her from it, but there was no way. He could lie now, but it would open a chasm between them, and in a few hours, a day or two at most, and it would happen anyway. She would be here, and see it. The shock, the sense of betrayal would only be worse.
'I've found someone who saw Rhys, and Arthur and Duke Kynaston together in St. Giles,' he said quietly. He heard the regret in his own voice.
It sounded harsh, as if his throat hurt. 'I'm sorry. I have to take it to Evan.”
She swallowed, her face white. 'It doesn't prove anything!' She was struggling and they both knew it.
'Don't, Hester!' he begged. 'Rhys was there, with two of his friends.
Together they answer to descriptions exactly. If Leighton Duff knew, or suspected, and followed Rhys to argue with him, to try to prevent him from doing it again, then there was plenty of motive to kill him.
He may even have found them immediately after they attacked the women that night. Then they would have no defence.”
'It… it could have been Duke, or… Arthur…' Her words trailed away. There was no belief in them, or in her eyes.
'Are they injured?' he asked gently, although he knew the answer from her face.
She shook her head minutely. There was nothing to say. She stared at him. The facts closed in like an iron
