Страница 60 из 89
But it was only a drawing, probably made after the incident, and perhaps the artist had allowed his sense of pity to influence his hand.
Monk put them in his pocket, thanked Evan, and set out through a light drizzle towards St. Giles again.
In Fisher's Walk he began asking street traders, pedlars, beggars, anyone who would answer him, if they recognised either of the two men.
It did not take long to find someone who identified Rhys.
"Yeah," he said, scratching his finger at the side of his head and knocking his cap askew. "Yeah, I seen 'im 'angin' around once or twice, mebbe more. Tall, eh? Nice-lookin' gent. Spoke proper, like them up west. Dressed rough, though. Down on 'is luck, I reckon.”
"Dressed rough?" Monk said quickly. "What do you mean, exactly?" Was it Rhys, or only someone who looked a little like him?
"Well, not like a gent," the man replied, looking at Monk earnestly as if he doubted his intelligence. "I know wot gents look like. Overcoat, 'e 'ad, but nuthink special, no fur on the collar, no 'igh 'at, no stick. In fact no 'at at all, co meter think on it.”
"But it was this man? You are sure?”
"Course I'm sure! Yer fink I du
"I think it's important you are sure," Monk said carefully. "Someone's life might hang on it.”
The man laughed uproariously, his breath coming in gasps between rich, rolling gurgles of merriment.
"Yer a caution, you are! I never 'card yer was a wit afore. On'y 'card yer was clever, an' never ter cross yer. Mean bastard, but fair, most o' the time, but one ter give a bloke enough rope ter 'ang is self an' then watch wile 'e does it. Pull the trap fer 'im, if 'e'd done yer wrong.”
Monk felt the cold close in on him, penetrating his skin. "I wasn't being fu
"Well, if you ain't go
"Well, that's something, I suppose. I'm not going to hang them because I can't. I'd be perfectly happy to." He was not sure of that being true. "Happy' might not be the right word, but he could certainly accede to it. He knew Hester would not, but that was irrelevant…
well, almost.
"It were 'im," the man said, shivering a little as he grew colder standing still on the street corner. "I seen 'im 'ere three, mebbe four times. Always at night.”
"Alone, or with others?”
"Wif others, twice. Once by is self "Who were the others? Describe them! Did you ever see him with women, and what were they like?”
"Ang on! "Ang on! Once 'e were wif an older man, 'cavy set, dressed very smart, like a gent. "E were real angry, shouting at 'im…”
"Who was shouting at whom?" Monk interrupted.
"They was shouting at each other, o' course.”
Monk produced the picture of Leighton Duff. "Was this him, or could it have been?”
The man studied it for several moments, then shook his head. "I du
I don' fink so. W'y? "Oo is 'e?”
"That doesn't matter. Have you ever seen him, the older man?”
"Not as I knows of. Looks like a few as I seen.”
"And the other time? Who was the young man with then?”
"Woman. Young, mebbe sixteen or so. They went together inter an alley. Du
"Thank you. I don't suppose you know the name of the woman, or where I can find her?”
"Looked like Fa
Monk could scarcely believe his good fortune. He tried not to let his sense of victory show too much in his voice.
"Where can I find her?”
"Black "Orse Yard.”
Monk knew better than to try for a number. He would have to go there and simply start asking. He paid the man half a crown, a magnificent reward he feared he would regret later, and then set out for Black Horse Yard.
It took him two hours to find Fa
"Yeah. So wot?”
"When?”
"I du
"He didn't hurt you?”
"Urt me? Wo's matter wiv yer? Course 'e din't 'urt me! W'y'd 'e 'urt me?”
"Did he pay you?”
"W'y yer wa
"No, I don't," he said tartly. "A lot of women have been raped and beaten, mostly in Seven Dials, but some here. I'm after whoever did it.”
"Geez!" she said in awe. "Well, nobody 'urt me. "E paid proper an' willin'.”
"When was that? Please try to recall.”
She thought for a moment.
"Was it before or after Christmas?" he prompted. "New Year?”
"It were between," she said with sudden enlightenment. "Then 'e came again arter New Year. W'y? Can't yer tell me wy? Ye don' think as it were 'im, do yer?”
"What do you think?”
"Never!" She tilted her head to one side. "Were it? "Onest?”
"When was the last time you saw him?”
"Du
He took out the picture of Leighton Duff. "Did you ever see this man?”
She studied it. "No.”
"Are you sure?”
"Yeah. I never seen 'im. "Oo is 'e? Is 'e the bloke wot got beat ter death?”
"Yes.”
"Well, I see'd Rhys, that's 'is name, wi' other gents, but this geezer weren't one of 'em. They was young, like 'im. One were real and some Called is self "King", or "Prince" or sum mink like that. The other were Arfur.”
"Duke, perhaps?" Monk felt his pulse beating like a hammer. This was it, this was the three of them seen together, and named.
"Yeah… that's right! Were he a duke, for real?”
"No. It's just short for Marmaduke!”
"Oh… Shame. Like ter fink as I'd 'ad a duke. Still, never mind, eh? All the same wif their pants orff." She laughed with genuine humour at the absurdity of pretension.
"And they all paid you?" he pressed one more time.
"Nah… that Duke were a nasty piece o' work. "E'd a 'it me if I'd 'a pushed, so I din't. Jus' took wot I could.”
"Did he hit you?”
"Nah. I knows well ter push me luck, an' well not ter.”
"Did you see him the night of the murder?”
"Nah.”
"None of them?”
"Nah.”
"I see. Thank you." He produced a shilling, all the change he had left, and gave it to her.
He continued in his search. As he was already aware, the word had spread whom he was seeking and why. For once co-operation was less grudgingly given. Once or twice it was even volunteered. He wanted one more piece, if possible. Had there been a victim that night? Had Leighton Duff caught them before they had attacked, or after? Was there any room at all for denial?
If they had been exultant, intoxicated with the excitement of their victory, dishevelled, perhaps marked with blood, then there was nothing else left to seek. Once Evan knew where to look, whom to question, and had the force of law behind him and the crime of murder, no more rape of women society chose to forget, but a man who was at the heart and core of their own, and the rest could be concerned, proof enough for any court.