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“Thank you, Miss Latterly. Yes, that is the opinion of her which I had formed myself. I imagine she also found you to be most worthy of her admiration. That is all I have to ask you. You may return to the dock for the time being.”
The judge adjourned the court. Newspaper reporters knocked each other over in their efforts to be first out of the door. The gallery erupted in noise, and the wardresses on both sides of Hester closed in on her and demanded that the cage be let down into the bowels of the building so that she might safely be locked up again before riot broke loose.
Monk walked the streets. Rathbone and Argyll sat up till long after midnight. Callandra sat with Henry Rathbone, and they talked of everything else they could imagine. And all of their thoughts were of nothing but Hester and what the morrow would bring.
Argyll rose to his feet.
“I call Hector Farraline to the stand.”
There was amazement in the gallery. Alastair rose to protest and was pulled back into his seat. It was useless, and Oonagh at least understood that. Alastair looked on in an agony of embarrassment.
Hector appeared and walked very slowly, his feet uncertain, his eyes wandering. He crossed the floor to the foot of the stairs up to the box.
“Do you need assistance, Mr. Farraline?” the judge inquired.
“Assistance?” Hector said with a frown. “What for?”
“To mount the steps, sir. Are you well?”
“Quite well, sir. And you?”
“Then take your place, sir, to be sworn in.” The judge looked at Argyll with acute disfavor. “I presume this is necessary, sir?”
“It is,” Argyll assured him.
“Very well, get on with it!”
Hector climbed the steps, was sworn in, and waited for Argyll to begin.
Gilfeather was watching intently.
“Major Farraline,” Argyll said courteously. “Were you in the house when Miss Latterly first arrived?”
“What? Oh… yes. Of course I was. I live there.”
“Did you see her arrive?”
Gilfeather rose. “My lord, Miss Latterly’s arrival is not in dispute. Surely this is irrelevant, and wasting the court’s time.”
The judge looked at Argyll, his eyebrows raised.
“I am coming to the point, my lord, if my learned friend will permit me,” Argyll replied.
“Then be a little more rapid, if you please,” the judge ordered.
“My lord. Major Farraline, did you see Miss Latterly moving about the house on that day?”
Hector looked confused. “Moving about? What do you mean… going up and down stairs, that sort of thing?”
Gilfeather rose again. “My lord, this witness is obviously not… not well! He is not competent to tell us anything of value. Of course Miss Latterly moved about the house. She could hardly have remained and not been seen the entire day. My learned friend is wasting time.”
“It is you who are wasting time,” Argyll countered. “I could get to my point a great deal faster if I were not constantly interrupted.”
“Get to it now, sir,” the judge commanded. “Before I also lose my patience. I am inclined to agree that Major Farraline is not in sufficient command of himself to offer anything of use.”
Argyll gritted his teeth.
Rathbone was leaning forward again, his hands clenched.
“Major Farraline,” Argyll resumed. “Did you meet with Miss Latterly alone, in the hallway, on that day, and have some conversation with her about the Farraline family business and its wealth?”
“What?”
“Oh really!” Gilfeather exploded.
“Yes,” Hector said with a moment of clarity. “Yes. On the stairs, as I recall. Spoke to her for several moments. Nice girl. Liked her. Pity.”
“Did you tell her that there had been money embezzled from the company books?”
Hector stared at him as if he had been bitten.
“No-no, of course not.” Then his eyes wandered away from Argyll and across to the gallery. He found Oonagh, and looked at her imploringly. She was pale-faced, her eyes wide.
“Major Farraline,” Argyll said firmly.
“My lord, this is inexcusable,” Gilfeather protested.
Argyll ignored him.
“Major Farraline, you are an officer of one of Her Majesty’s most renowned and battle-honored regiments. Remember yourself, sir! You are under oath! Did you not tell Miss Latterly that someone had been embezzling from the Farraline printing company?”
“This is monstrous,” Gilfeather cried, waving his arms furiously. “And completely irrelevant. Miss Latterly is on trial for the murder of Mary Farraline. This can have nothing to do with the case at issue.”
Alastair made as if to rise to his feet, then subsided again, his expression anguished.
“No I didn’t,” Hector said with another sudden rush of clarity. “I can remember it now. That was Mr. Monk I told. He went off to find Mclvor about it, but he didn’t learn anything. Poor fool. I could have told him that. That’s all covered up now.”
There was a moment’s utter silence.
Rathbone sank onto the table in devastated relief.
Argyll’s dark face split into a grin.
The judge looked furious.
Monk punched his clenched fist into his open palm again and again till the flesh was bruised.
“Thank you, Major Farraline,” Argyll said quietly. “I am sure that you are right. It must have been Mr. Monk, and not Miss Latterly. That is my error, and I apologize.”
“Is that all?” Hector said curiously.
“Yes, thank you.”
Gilfeather swung around in a complete circle, staring at the gallery, the jurors, then at Hector.
Hector gave a discreet hiccup.
“Major Farraline, how many glasses of whiskey have you drunk this morning?” Gilfeather asked.
“I have no idea,” Hector said politely. “I don’t think I used a glass. Have one of those flasks, you know. Why?”
“No matter, sir. That is all, thank you.”
Hector began to fumble his way down the steps.
“Oh…” Gilfeather said quickly.
Hector stopped three steps from the bottom, clinging on to the rail.
“Do you keep the company books, Major Farraline?”
“Me? No, of course not. Young Ke
“Have you seen them lately, Major? Say, within the last two weeks?”
“No. Don’t think so.”
“Can you read company accounts, sir?”
“Never tried. Not interested.”
“Quite so. Do you need assistance down the steps, sir?”
“No I don’t, sir. Make my own way.” And with that he missed his footing and slid the last three steps, landing inelegantly at the bottom. He straightened himself and walked unaided and quite steadily back to the gallery and was given a seat.
“My lord”-Argyll turned to the judge-”in view of Major Farraline’s evidence, I would like to call Ke
Gilfeather was on his feet. He hesitated, a protest on his lips.
The judge sighed. “Do you object, Mr. Gilfeather? It seems there is some question of embezzlement, real or imagined.”
Argyll smiled. If Gilfeather gained the impression he was perfectly happy to be denied Ke
“No objection, my lord,” Gilfeather conceded. “It would be advisable to clear up all doubts.” He shot a tight smile at Argyll.
Argyll inclined his head in thanks.
Ke
“Mr. Farraline, your uncle, Major Hector Farraline, has told us that you keep the company books. Is that correct?”
“Irrelevant, my lord,” Gilfeather objected.
The judge hesitated.
“My lord, if there is embezzlement from the company books, and the head of that family has been murdered, it can hardly be irrelevant,” Argyll reasoned. “It provides an excellent motive, unco