fire in Hester's sitting room enjoying the heat inside and out, and the savory taste in his mouth of chicken and herbs.
Hester was watching him, her eyes narrowed, her brows drawn together.
'Did you really mean it that you believe Delphine Lambert is the same person as Dolly Jackson?'
He had no doubt. 'Yes. If you look at those girls, especially Leda, the resemblance is startling. It is almost a mirror image, only distorted by the mouth. But you can see what she was meant to be. No one could look at them both and not think of it. She had not only one deformed child, Hester, she had two! No wonder she had to leave them behind her if she was going to make her way. She could never admit that to anyone. It's like having madness in the blood. What chance would Zillah have of marrying well?'
'But she's not related!' Hester protested, though her voice was hollow. She knew, as Monk did, that even if they knew Zillah was adopted people would not make that distinction. She was looking at him steadily, searching his face, waiting for him to go on.
'She knew I was looking into the family past, anything I could find that could have put Melville off marrying Zillah. She must have known that if I went on long enough I should find that Zillah was adopted. Perhaps if Melville had gone on fighting the case, I would even have traced her back as far as Putney… and Samuel Jackson.'
'If Keelin had lived?' She repeated the words in a voice little more than a whisper. 'Are you saying that Delphine Lambert could have killed her?'
'I don't know… perhaps I am.' He watched her face, seeing her eyes widen and slowly belief follow incredulity.
'But how?' she breathed softly. 'How did she do it? She was never alone with her… you said so. In fact, you said there was no way anyone could have poisoned her. She didn't eat or drink anything in the court all afternoon.' She shook her head. 'You couldn't even work out how she could have taken it herself.'
'So obviously we missed something.' He poked his finger at the table in which his empty soup bowl rested. 'She did take it. That is the one thing we can be certain of. It was done… whomever by. We missed it.'
She thought for a few moments in silence, her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her hands.
'Tell me about the day in court,' she asked at length. 'Describe it for me as if you wanted me to draw it for you, knowing I wasn't there. Treat it as if I had never been in a court before. Don't leave out anything you saw.'
There was no point in it, but he obliged. He told her what the room was like, where everyone sat, how they were dressed and what function they filled. She listened intently, even though most of it was already familiar to her.
'And the adjournment?' she asked. 'What happened then?'
He laughed abruptly. 'Keelin came out of the courtroom and stood a little to the left of the doorway talking to Rathbone for a few minutes. Then Rathbone left with Sacheverall to go and argue again. I don't know where they went, only that it was entirely fruitless.'
'How long were they gone?' she interrupted, looking hopeful.
He shook his head. 'About ten minutes, maybe fifteen. But Keelin didn't eat or drink anything, nor did she go to the cloakroom. She was there in the hall all the time, in full public view.'
'Alone?' she persisted, refusing to give up.
'Yes…' He pictured it vividly, it seemed so unnecessarily, publicly hurtful. 'Except that Delphine went over to her with a packet, spoke to her for a moment, then when Keelin held up her hands, Delphine opened the packet and tipped it out into her cupped palms. It was jewelry she had given Zillah. They were dusty…'
'Dust?' Hester said slowly.
'Possibly powder… I don't know.'
'But something?'
'Yes… why? It wasn't anything edible. Delphine did not pass her anything she could eat or drink-just the jewelry. She tipped it out so she could itemize each piece and make Keelin acknowledge that she had received it all back-count out each item.'
'What did Melville do then?' Hester was leaning forward now.
'She put the jewelry in her inside pocket,' he continued. 'She looked… wretched… as if she had been kicked.'
Hester winced. 'And then what?'
'Then Rathbone came back, spoke to Keelin for a few moments, and they returned to court.'
Hester sat for a while thinking silently. It did not seem to make any sense. Monk thought of the afternoon session, the tension and despair. He could picture Keelin Melville safely next to Rathbone, her face tense, the light reflecting in her clear eyes, which were almost the color of aquamarine. Her skin was very fair, spattered with freckles, her features fine but with a remarkable inner power. It was the face of a visionary. And her hands were beautiful too, strong and slender, perfectly proportioned… except that she bit her nails-not badly, but enough to make them too short. It seemed to be in moments of greatest anxiety. He could recall her hands in her mouth when… Hands in her mouth!
'She bit her nails!' he almost shouted, leaning towards Hester and clasping her hand where it lay on the table, turning it over. 'She bit her nails!'
'What?' She looked startled.
He rubbed his fingertips along the tabletop, then put them to his lips.
'The powder…' she breathed out the words. 'If that was the belladonna, then she put it to her lips… into her mouth. Her hands were covered in it from the jewelry!'
'Would it be enough?' He barely dared ask.
'It could be…' she said slowly, staring back at him. 'If it were pure… to act within a few hours. Especially if she ate nothing.' Her voice rose a little, getting more urgent. 'She didn't wash her hands after touching the jewelry?'
'No. She went straight back into court. I don't imagine at that point she would think of such a thing… still less of a taste.'
'I don't think it tastes unpleasant,' she answered. 'Children sometimes eat the fruit by mistake.'
'Does it kill them?' he asked.
'Yes, it does, usually. And this would be concentrated.'
'Where would she have got it?' He tried to keep the sense of victory out of his voice, but it was there in spite of him.
'An herbalist, or even distill it herself,' she replied, not taking her eyes from his.
'There won't be berries this time of the year.'
'You don't need the berries. Any part of it is poisonous… berries, flowers, roots, leaves, anything at all!'
Monk clenched his fist. 'That's it! That's how she did it! By God, she's clever! Now, how can we prove it?' He sat back on the chair. He was warm at last, and very comfortable in Gabriel's shirt and trousers. He felt elated. He knew the truth! And Keelin Melville had not killed herself. She had not died in drowning despair, surrendering. It had not even been directly his, or Rathbone's, failure which had been responsible.
'Is she buried yet?' Hester asked. 'Perhaps if they haven't washed her hands… under the nails…'
'Yes,' he answered before she finished. 'They buried her.' The words hurt. 'As a suicide… in unhallowed ground. Even Wolff was not permitted to be there.'
'God won't care,' she said with unwavering conviction. 'But without her hands to look at… what about the suit she wore? Do you think we could see that? Or did they bury her in it?' There was finality in her voice, as if she expected the answer even before he gave it.
'I don't know, but I expect they did bury her in it. Why would they be bothered to change it? And Delphine took the packet back. She was careful enough for that.'
'What about the jewelry itself?' she asked, but without hope.
'It wouldn't prove anything much, except to us,' he replied. 'Only that she had belladonna in the same pocket… not that anyone else put it there. Delphine would simply say that Melville had a packet of belladonna powder in her pocket and it burst or came undone. We couldn't prove otherwise- even if we knew it!'
'Then I don't think we can prove it,' Hester said slowly.
'Not-not prove it? We've got to!' He was outraged. It was monstrous! Unbearable! Delphine Lambert had abandoned two tiny children to the cruelty of strangers-two vulnerable, damaged children who needed her even
