The Sins Of The Wolf Part 35

"I was not going to protest," he said tersely. "As I see it, there are at least two avenues to explore on the grounds of evidence, either old or new."

"Mother's property in Ross-shire," Oonagh said. "What else?"

"The diamond brooch which apparently you never found."

She looked a little surprised. "You think it matters?"

"I have no idea, but I shall find out. Who is your jeweler?"

"Arnott and Dunbar, of Frederick Street."

"Thank you." He hesitated only an instant. "Will it be possible to know a little more about the property in ..."

"Ross-shire," she finished for him, her eyes wide. "If you wish to. Quinlan has naturally given the papers to the police. They took them yesterday evening. But the fact is irrefutable. Mother inherited a small croft in Easter Ross. She gave the leasing of it into Baird's hands, and there are, it would seem, no receipts of money whatever...."

"There will be some explanation for it!" Eilish said desperately. "Baird would never simply steal it!"

"Whatever it is, I doubt it is simple," Oonagh said dryly. "But of course, dear, we all wish to think it is not as it seems, no one more than I!"

Eilish blushed, and then went white.

"Where is Easter Ross?" Monk could not recall the county, if he had ever known anything of it. Presumably it was in the east, but to the east of where?

"Oh, beyond Inverness, I think," Oonagh replied absently. "It is really very far north indeed. Saint Colmac, Port of Saint Colmac, or something like that. Really, it is all rather absurd; the amount cannot be more than a few pounds a year. Hardly worth anyone's life!"

"People have been killed over a hand of cards," Monk said bitterly, then as Hester glanced towards him, suddenly wondered how he knew that. He was not conscious of knowing, and yet he had spoken with certainty. It was another of those little jolts of knowledge that returned every so often, utterly without warning and with no surrounding recollection.

"I suppose so." Oonagh's voice was little more than a whisper. She looked towards the window. "I shall find the precise address for you, if that is what you wish. Perhaps you would dine with us this evening, and I shall have it for you then?"

"Thank you," Monk replied, then suddenly was uncertain whether Hester had been included or not.

"Thank you," Hester accepted, before the question could be answered by anyone else. "That would be most generous of you, especially in the circ.u.mstances."

Oonagh drew in her breath, then decided against arguing, and smiled instead.

It was dismissal, and Monk and Hester were in the hall, waiting for the sepulchral McTeer to let them out, when Eilish came hurrying after them, grasping Monk by the arm, hardly seeming to see Hester.

"Mr. Monk! It wasn't Baird. He would never have hurt Mother, whatever anyone thinks. He doesn't even care all that much about money. There has to be another explanation for all this."

Monk felt acutely sorry for her. He knew only too well the bitterness of disillusion, the moment when one realizes that the man or the woman that one has loved intensely is after all not merely imperfect but flawed, and in a way that is ugly, shallow and alien. It is not that he or she has supped, and needs forgiving, but never was the person one thought. The whole relationship was a mirage, a lie, unwitting perhaps, but still a lie.

"Have you asked him?" he said gently.

She looked very white. "Yes. He simply says that he did not steal anything but it is a subject he cannot speak of. I...I believe him, of course, but I don't know what to make of it. Why would he not speak of it, when Quinlan accuses him of something so terrible? What is worth pursuing now, when his"-she gulped-"his life may be at stake?"

The only answer that came to Monk's mind was that it could be some secret even uglier than the accusation, or one that substantiated it. He did not say so to her.

"I don't know, but I promise you I shall do all I can to find out. And if Baird is innocent then he will be proved so."

"Kenneth?" she whispered. "I can't bear to believe that either."

Hester said nothing, although Monk knew she was aching to speak. Perhaps for once she also could think of no words that would not make it worse.

McTeer appeared, his face set in lines of imminent disaster, and immediately Eilish stepped back and began a formal good-bye.

Monk responded appropriately, and turned to leave, only to find Hester speaking to Eilish with total disregard for McTeer. He could not hear what she was saying, her voice was so low, but Eilish gave her a look of intense grat.i.tude, and then a moment later they were out in the street.

"What did you say to her?" he demanded. "There is no point giving her any hope. It may very well have been McIvor."

"Why?" she said crisply, her chin coming up. "What on earth would he do such a thing for? He liked Mary, and the rent of one croft is hardly worth killing anyone for."

He gave up in exasperation and began walking briskly back towards Princes Street and the route to the jeweler's. She was too naive to understand, and too willful to be told.

That night at dinner, Monk arrived in his usual immaculate dress, and Hester came looking, in his opinion, a complete fright, having nothing with her other than the gray-blue dress in which she had stood trial. They were armed with information which altered everything with respect to Baird McIvor and Kenneth. The jeweler had informed them that it was not Mary Farraline who had commissioned the diamond pin at all, in spite of the fact that it was on her account. It was Kenneth. He had at the time a.s.sumed it was an errand, and had not questioned it, much to his chagrin when he had learned later, from Mary herself, that she had not requested it, and had indeed never seen it. Of course the matter was settled now, as far as he was concerned. What had pa.s.sed between Kenneth Farraline and his mother he had no idea.

As usual McTeer met them at the door and ushered them into the withdrawing room, where this time the entire family was a.s.sembled, almost as if they might have known a revelation awaited them-although perhaps, in the circ.u.mstances, that was not surprising. Hester had been released, if not cleared of the charge, and Quinlan had openly accused Baird McIvor. It was inconceivable that the case could rest as it was. Even if the police pressed it no further, it was beyond imagination that the Farralines themselves could leave matters as they stood.

As always it was Oonagh who acknowledged them first, but Alastair, looking pale and grim-faced, was only a moment behind.

"Good evening, Miss Latterly," he said with studied politeness. "It is good of you to come with such generosity. A lesser woman might have borne a grudge."

It crossed Monk's mind that that remark might have been a question as much as a statement. Alastair had a haunted look in the depths of his eyes, as well he might, knowing either his brother or his dearest sister's husband was guilty of murder, and the murder of his mother at that. Monk did not envy him. As he stood in the gracious withdrawing room with its tall windows and sweeping curtains, the fire blazing in the hearth and the generations of family mementos and embroideries, he felt a sharp touch of pity for Alastair. What if it were Baird McIvor? Alastair and Oonagh had grown up together, sharing their dreams and their fears in a way the other siblings had not. If it were Oonagh's husband, Alastair would feel it almost as deeply deeply as she. And he would be the one person from whom she might not hide her grief, her disillusionment, her intolerable sense of shame. No wonder he stood close to her now, as if he would touch her, were it not so obvious, and so intrusive of a wound not yet delivered. as she. And he would be the one person from whom she might not hide her grief, her disillusionment, her intolerable sense of shame. No wonder he stood close to her now, as if he would touch her, were it not so obvious, and so intrusive of a wound not yet delivered.

Hester had already deflected the remark generously, turning it into a mere exchange. They were invited in, offered wine. Eilish caught Monk's eye. She looked painfully embarra.s.sed, knowing that at least some people would a.s.sociate her with her husband's accusations. And galling as it was, Hester probably owed him her freedom, even though it was brought about by Argyll's questions.

Quinlan was standing at the farther end of the room, his lean face, with its long nose and chiseled lips, deep in thought. He was watching Hester, amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes. Perhaps he was wondering how she would approach him, what she would find to say. Monk felt a rush of loathing towards the man, not for Hester's sake-she was well able to take care of herself, or if she were not it was her own fault for being here-but for Eilish, who could not escape.

Baird stood by the fireplace, as far as possible from Quinlan. He looked pale, as if he had not eaten or slept, and there was a haunted air about him, as though he were preparing to fight but had no hope of winning.

Kenneth sat on the arm of one of the easy chairs, regarding Hester with undisguised interest.

They had been indulging in polite conversation about nothing that mattered, but the room seemed to crackle with the underlying silence, the waiting for someone to broach the only subject that mattered. Finally it was Alastair who did it.

"Oonagh says you went to find out about the other brooch which no one has seen. I can't imagine why." A curious look came into his eyes, doubt, incredulity, hope. "Surely you don't think one of the servants took it...do you? Isn't it merely lost? Mother does seem to have been somewhat careless ..." He left the remark hanging in unfinished silence. No one had yet explained the gray pearl brooch, and somehow it seemed cra.s.s to mention the subject at all now, in front of Hester.

"No I don't," Monk said grimly. "I am sorry, Mr. Farraline, but the explanation for that is quite simple. Your mother never had it. It was commissioned in the first place by your brother, Kenneth, I a.s.sume in order to give to his lady friend, who is so determined never to be poor again. A very understandable resolve, not perhaps to you, but certainly to anyone who has lain awake all night because he or she was too hungry or too cold to sleep."

Alastair pulled a face of distaste, then turned slowly to look at Kenneth.

Kenneth flushed a dull red, and his face tightened defiantly.

Monk glanced at Eilish. Her expression was a painful mixture of anguish and hope, as though she had not expected to be hurt by Kenneth's guilt, and now that it was on the brink of reality, it caught her unaware, both wounded and abashed. She looked across at Baird, but he was sunk in gloom of his own.

Oonagh turned a questioning gaze at her younger brother.

"Well?" Alastair demanded. "Don't just stand there glowering, Kenneth. This requires very considerable explanation. Do you admit buying this piece of jewelry and charging it to Mother? Not that there seems any point in denying it; the proof is there."

"I admit it," Kenneth said in a strangled voice, although there seemed as much anger in it as fear. "If you paid us decently I wouldn't have to-"

"You are paid what you are worth!" Alastair said, the color mounting in his cheeks. "But if you were paid nothing at all beyond your keep, that would not excuse you from buying presents for your mistress on Mother's account. Dear G.o.d, what else have you done? Is Uncle Hector right? Have you embezzled from the company accounts?"

The blood fled from Kenneth's cheeks, but he seemed defiant as much as frightened, and there was still no remorse in him that the eye could see.

Oddly, it was Quinlan who stepped forward to speak, not Kenneth himself.

"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 that-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 G.o.d, 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." Baird'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."

"n.o.body 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 Baird's. He could have slipped the brooch into her bag...she could hardly have embezzled Mother-in-law's rents."

"For G.o.d'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, doc.u.ments, 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 Hester's innocence, not because Monk wished to a.s.sist Baird McIvor or any of the Farralines. "I expect there is a train as far as Inverness," Deirdra continued. "After that you may have to ride, I don't know."

"Then as soon as I have the information, and a note of authority from you," Monk said, for the first time looking at Quinlan, not Oonagh, for agreement, "I shall collect my belongings and take the first train north."