'I won't die of a broken heart,' I told him. 'But I will have a hard time forgetting.'
'You still must remember one thing, Bess. He may be guilty. There's always that chance.'
'No,' I said resolutely. 'He wouldn't have killed Marjorie for the reason given. He loved her enough to let her live her life as she chose, even if it included marrying Meriwether Evanson and having an affair with a married man.'
He was silent for a time, his mind a long way away from me. And then he came back and said, 'Well. It's late. I've bespoken a bed at my club. Time to return you to the dragon.'
'Mrs. Hennessey isn't a dragon, and you know it.'
He laughed and gave me a hand to rise. It was warm and comforting. Then we walked in companionable silence to where we'd left the motorcar.
I slept that night, mainly because I was very tired, emotionally drained, and had taught myself to snatch sleep where I could and when I could. That training stood me in good stead once more.
Mary was up making tea before I dragged myself out of bed and walked into the kitchen, drawing the sash of my robe around me.
'Anything new?' she asked casually. And when I didn't say anything right away, she added, 'I did glimpse Simon waiting for you last night.'
Nodding, I told her about seeing Inspector Herbert and then speaking to Helen Calder.
'It's such a pity that she can't remember anything really useful about her attack. It would make a difference.'
'We can't count on it.'
'No. On the other hand, if you want my vote, I'll plump for Victoria. She's a nasty piece of work, anyway you look at her.'
'If Jack was Marjorie's lover, he's no better. He knew she was married, he knew whom she'd married. It was a malicious thing to do to his wife, never mind Marjorie.'
'I know Jack Melton,' Mary said. 'I don't know Victoria.'
'Be glad. I must go and speak to a Mr. Forbes today. He was Michael's counsel.'
'Forbes?' She frowned. 'I think I went out with his son a time or two. I don't envy you. He has a reputation for eating prosecution witnesses alive.'
I laughed. 'Know where I can find him?'
'Not a clue. I never met him.'
'I'll try the Inns first.'
'Wear your uniform. It might get you in to see him.'
'Clever thinking.'
I went off to dress, wondering if Mr. Forbes might be in court today. I prayed he wasn't.
As it happened, when I reached his chambers, not far from the Inns of Court, he was preparing to leave to interview a witness. I was taken down a narrow passage to a room nearly overflowing with briefs and law books, a ladder leaning against the tall shelves, an empty hearth surrounded by a Victorian mantelpiece that would have done justice to a French chateau, it was so massive, and a desk with nothing more on it than an inkwell, a tray of pens, a blotter, and a small statue of blind justice sitting on a Purbeck marble base.
Mr. Forbes regarded me with impatience, which was rather more daunting than lack of interest. He was a spare man with graying hair that would have suited an Oxford don, overly long and quite thick. The spectacles he wore hid sharp blue eyes that were unpleasantly piercing.
A feeling of unspecified guilt materialized from out of nowhere and swept over me.
When I told him my reason for coming, he said shortly, 'Lieutenant Hart made his decision. He took the case in the direction he chose, not the one I was prepared to follow. He refused any appeal. Young Mr. Hart is a fool. I washed my hands of him.'
'Give me five minutes of your time, Mr. Forbes, and then tell me what advice you would give him now.'
'Young woman, I don't know what reason you have to involve yourself in the affairs of a man condemned by his own words and sentenced to hang, but I suspect that if your parents knew you were here today, they would be appalled.'
'Colonel Crawford is well aware of what I am doing.' Well, not completely, but he knew how I felt about getting to the bottom of things. And I knew he'd back me up, then lecture me privately. 'The question is a very simple one, Mr. Forbes. Do you believe that Lieutenant Hart is guilty, despite his chances of acquittal on all charges?' When he didn't answer, I added, 'Do you believe that Michael Hart deliberately set out to damage your reputation by changing his plea at the last minute? Or did he act out of despair and a misguided attempt to protect Marjorie Evanson's good name?'
He stood up, looming over me, his mouth a long, thin line. And then he said, 'I suggest you leave while I remember that you are young and in love.'
'I am not in love,' I told him, taking my courage in both hands and remembering that an attack is often the best line of defense. 'I have certain facts to present to you. And you may well discover that they have some merit to them. But you won't know if you don't listen to them. It could be that Michael Hart hangs on the day allotted. I'll be back in France by that time. But I should like to see his name cleared in the end. That's probably all I can do for him. I believe he deserves that final redemption.'
I wasn't sure where the words had come from. They were suddenly there on the tip of my tongue, and my emotions were already running high.
Mr. Forbes sat down again. 'Very well.' He took out his pocket watch and set it on the table before him. 'You have your five minutes, Miss Crawford. Proceed.'
I was certain he'd agreed because he thought that I would make a fool of myself, stumbling over emotional attempts to be clever. Then he could put me in my place and show me the door.
He had overlooked the fact that I was a nurse and accustomed to thinking clearly in a crisis.
I collected myself, as I had done in Inspector Herbert's small office, and outlined, as I had done there, the case against Jack Melton. And then with equal brevity, I outlined the case against Victoria Garrison.
Mr. Forbes sat there listening with his eyes on the watch before him, nothing in his face indicating whether he was actually heeding me or simply marking time.
I finished and rose to go. I could see his watch-I still had thirty seconds of my five minutes.
'You would do better,' he said before I was out of my chair, 'to have taken your facts to Scotland Yard.'
'I did present my arguments regarding Commander Melton to Inspector Herbert. Sadly, I didn't know about Mr. Garrison's will, or I would have told him about Victoria Garrison as well. Did you know that Mrs. Evanson's solicitor couldn't find her will? The staff told us that she was considering changing it. She had a child to protect, and she must not have been certain her husband would accept it. Perhaps she wanted something from its father too-a promise to recognize it, as the price of his own sins. After all, the Meltons have no children.'
Mr. Forbes said, 'Miss Crawford. Casting doubt on the facts of the case will not help Lieutenant Hart. I remind you. He confessed. Of his own free will, in open court.'
'Then what would stop this execution?'
'If Mrs. Calder remembers the night she was stabbed and can tell the police who attacked her. Assuming, naturally, that it wasn't Hart.'
It was so unfair.
'I've spoken to her. She's been made ill by trying to remember. It's a medical problem, not a parlor game. Is there no other recourse?'
'Of course. Give the police the murderer himself. Or herself.'
I thought he was playing with me now. That made me angry.
After a moment, he added, 'I know Mr. Melton. I refuse to believe he'd kill someone, even in anger.'
'Then you should never have taken Michael Hart's brief,' I retorted.
I'd failed. But Mr. Forbes's remark most certainly reinforced the fact that Jack Melton, fearing damage to his own reputation, had sent his brother to meet Marjorie Evanson.
Mr. Forbes picked up his watch, restored it to his pocket, and made a fuss of settling the chain across his vest. I thought my words had stung, a little.
