As soon as she was relieved, Hester also left. She was barely halfway along the corridor in the direction of the nurses' dormitory when she encountered the imposing figure of Berenice Ross Gilbert. Although in any social circumstance she would have considered herself Lady Ross Gilbert's equal, even if perhaps that opinion had not been shared, in her gray stuff nursing dress, and with her occupation known, she was at every kind of disadvantage, and she was uncomfortably aware of it.
Berenice was dressed splendidly, as usual, her gown a mixture of rusts and golds with a touch of fuchsia pink, and cut to the minute of fashion. She smiled with casual charm, looking straight through Hester, and continued on her way. However, she had only gone a few steps when Sir Herbert came out of one of the doorways.
'Ah!' he said quickly, his face lighting up. 'I was just hoping to…'
'Good morning, Sir Herbert,' Berenice cut across him, her voice brittle and a trifle loud. 'Another very pleasant day. How is Mr. Prendergast? I hear you performed a brilliant operation. It is an excellent thing for the reputation of the hospital, and of course for English medicine in general. How did he pass the night? Well?'
Sir Herbert looked a little taken aback. He was facing Berenice with his profile to Hester, whom he had not noticed standing in the shadows a dozen yards away. She was a nurse, so to some extent invisible, like a good domestic servant.
Sir Herbert's eyebrows rose in obvious surprise.
'Yes, he is doing very well so far,' he replied. 'But it is too early yet for that to mean a great deal. I didn't know you were acquainted with Mr. Prendergast.'
'Ah no, my interest is not personal.'
'I was going to say that I-' he began again.
'And of course,' she cut across him again, 'I am concerned with the hospital's reputation and your enhancement of it, Sir Herbert.' She smiled fixedly. 'Of course this whole wretched business of poor Nurse- whatever her name was.'
'Barrymore? Really, Berenice…'
'Yes, of course, Barrymore. And we have another Crimean nurse, so I hear-Miss-er…' She half turned toward Hester and indicated her.
'Ah-yes.' Sir Herbert looked startled and slightly out of composure. 'Yes-it seems like a fortunate acquisition- so far. A very competent young woman. Thank you for your kind words, Lady Ross Gilbert.' Unconsciously he pulled down the front of his jacket, straightening it a little. 'Most generous of you. Now if you would excuse me, I have other patients I must attend. Charming to see you.'
Berenice smiled bleakly. 'Naturally. Good morning, Sir Herbert.'
Hester moved at last toward the dormitory and the opportunity for an hour or two's rest. She was tired enough to sleep even through the constant comings and goings, the chatter, the movement of others, even though she longed for privacy. The peace of her own small lodging room seemed a haven it never had previously, when she had compared it with her father's home with its spaciousness, warmth, and familiar elegance.
She did not sleep long and woke with a start, her mind frantically trying to recall some impression she had gained. It was important, it meant something, and she could not grasp it.
An elderly nurse with a bald patch on one side of her head was standing a few feet away, staring at her.
'That there rozzer wants yer,' she said flatly. 'The one wi' the eyes like a ferret. You'd better look sharp. 'E ain't one to cross.' And having delivered her message she took herself off without glancing backwards to see whether Hester obeyed or not.
Blinking, her eyes sore, her head heavy, Hester climbed out of the cot (she did not think of it as hers), pulled on her dress, and straightened her hair. Then she set off to find Jeavis; from the woman's description it could only be Jeavis who wanted her, not Evan.
She saw him standing outside Sir Herbert Stanhope's room, looking along the corridor toward her. Presumably he knew where the dormitory was, and thus expected her the way she came.
'Morning, miss,' he said when she was within a few feet of him. He looked her up and down with curiosity. 'You'd be Miss Latterly?'
'Yes, Inspector. What may I do for you?' She said it more coolly than she had intended, but something in his manner irritated her.
'Oh yes. You were not here when Miss Barrymore met her death,' he began unnecessarily. 'But I understand you served in the Crimea? Perhaps you were acquainted with her there?'
'Yes, slightly.' She was about to add that she knew nothing of relevance, or she would have told him without his asking, then she realized that it was just possible she might learn something from him if she prolonged the conversation. 'We served side by side on at least one occasion.' She looked into his dark, almost browless eyes, and unwittingly thought of the bald nurse's mention of a ferret. It was cruel, but not entirely inappropriate-a dark brown, highly intelligent ferret. Perhaps it was not such a good idea to try misleading him after all.
'Difficult to tell what a woman looked like,' he said thoughtfully, 'when you haven't seen her alive. They tell me she was quite handsome. Would you agree with that, Miss Latterly?'
'Yes.' She was surprised. It seemed so irrelevant. 'Yes, she had a very-very individual face, most appealing. But she was rather tall.'
Jeavis unconsciously squared his shoulders. 'Indeed. I assume she must have had admirers?'
Hester avoided his eyes deliberately. 'Oh yes. Are you thinking such a person killed her?'
'Never mind what we're thinking,' he replied smugly. 'You just answer my questions the best you can.'
Hester seethed with annoyance, and hid it with difficulty. Pompous little man!
'I never knew her to encourage anyone,' she said between stiff lips. 'She didn't flirt. I don't think she knew how to.'
'Hmm…' He bit his lip. 'Be that as it may, did she ever mention a Mr. Geoffrey Taunton to you? Think carefully now. I need an exact, honest answer.'
Hester controlled herself with an intense effort. She wanted to slap him. But this conversation would be worth it if she learned something, however small. She gazed back at him with wide eyes.
'What does he look like, Inspector?'
'It doesn't matter what he looks like, miss,' he said irritably. 'What I want to know is, did she mention him?'
'She had a photograph,' Hester lied without compunction. At least it was a lie in essence. Prudence had had a photograph, certainly, but it was one of her father, and Hester knew that.
Jeavis's interest was quickened. 'Did she, now. What was he like, the man in this photograph?'
This was no use. 'Well-er…' She screwed up her face as if in a concentrated effort to find the right words.
'Come on, miss. You must have some idea!' Jeavis said urgently. 'Was he coarse or refined? Handsome or homely? Was he clean-shaven, a mustache, whiskers, a beard? What was he like?'
'Oh he was fine-looking,' she prevaricated, hoping he would forget his caution. 'Sort of-well-it's hard to say…'
'Oh yes.'
She was afraid if she did not give him a satisfactory answer soon he would lose interest. 'She had it with her all the time.'
Jeavis abandoned patience. 'Was he tall, straight hair, regular features, smallish sort of mouth, light eyes, very level?'
'Yes! Yes, that's who he was, exactly,' she said, affecting relief. 'Is that him?'
'Never you mind. So she carried that with her, did she?
Sounds like she knew him pretty close. I suppose she got letters?'
'Oh yes, whenever the post came from England. But I didn't think Mr. Taunton lived in London.'
'He didn't,' he agreed. 'But there are trains, and it's easy enough to come and go. Trip to Ealing only takes an hour or less. Easy enough to get in and out of the hospital. I'll have to have a good deal closer talk with Mr. Taunton.' He shook his head darkly. 'Nice-looking gentleman like that might have other ladies to set their caps at. Funny he chose to go on with her, even when she worked in a place like this and seemed set to continue with it.'
'Love is funny, Inspector,' Hester said tartly. 'And while a great many people marry for other reasons, there are a few who insist on marrying for love. Perhaps Mr. Taunton was one of them?'
'You've got a very sharp tongue in your head, Miss Latterly,' Jeavis said with a perceptive look at her. 'Was
