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By Root 704 0

—no, I don’t think I do. Sir Herbert is essentially a very careful man, very ambitious, jealous for his reputation and his status in the medical community, both in Britain and abroad.” He put the tips of his fingers together. He had beautiful hands, strong, broad palmed, smaller than Sir Herbert’s. “To become involved in such a way with a nurse, however interesting or attractive,” he went on, “would be foolish in the extreme. Sir Herbert is not an impulsive man, nor a man of physical or emotional appetite.” He said it without expression, as if he neither admired nor despised such an absence. Looking at his face, Monk knew Dr. Beck was as different from Sir Herbert as it was possible for another clever and dedicated man to be, but he had no indication of Kristian’s feelings.

“You used the words intelligent and attractive about Nurse Barrymore,” he said curiously. “Did you find her so? I gathered from Lady Ross Gilbert that she was a trifle priggish, naive as to matters of love, and altogether not the sort of woman a man might find appealing.”

Kristian laughed. “Yes—Berenice would see her in that light. Two such different women it would be hard to imagine. I doubt they could ever have understood each other.”

“That is not an answer, Dr. Beck.”

“No, it isn’t.” He seemed quite unoffended. “Yes, I thought Nurse Barrymore was most attractive, both as a person and, were I free to think so, as a woman. But then my taste is not usual, I confess. I like courage and humor, and I find intelligence stimulating.” He crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, regarding Monk with a smile. “It is, for me, extremely unprofitable to spend my time with a woman who has nothing to talk about but trivia. I dislike simpering and flirting, and I find agreement and obedience essentially very lonely things. If a woman says she agreed with you, whatever her own thoughts, in what sense do you have her true companionship at all? You may as well have a charming picture, because all you are receiving from her are your own ideas back again.”

Monk thought of Hermione—charming, docile, pliable—and of Hester—opinionated, obstructive, passionate in her beliefs, full of courage, uncomfortable to be with (at times he disliked her more that anyone else he knew)—but real.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “I take your point. Do you think it is likely that Sir Herbert also found her attractive?”

“Prudence Barrymore?” Kristian bit his lip thoughtfully. “I doubt it. I know he respected her professional abilities. We all did. But she occasionally challenged his opinions, and that incensed him. He did not accept that from his peers, let alone from a nurse—and a woman.”

Monk frowned. “Might that have angered him enough to lash out at her for it?”

Kristian laughed. “Hardly. He was chief surgeon here. She was only a nurse. He had it eminently in his power to crush her without resort to anything so out of character, so dangerous to himself.”

“Even if he had been wrong and she was right?” Monk pressed. “It would have become known to others.”

Kristian’s face suddenly became serious.

“Well, that would put a different complexion upon it, of course. He would not take that well at all. No man would.”

“Might her medical knowledge have been sufficient for that to happen?” Monk asked.

Kristian shook his head slightly.

“I don’t know. I suppose it is conceivable. She certainly knew a great deal, far more than any other nurse I have ever met, although the nurse who replaced her is extraordinarily good.”

Monk felt a quick surge of satisfaction and was instantly discomfited by it.

“Enough?” he said a little more sharply than he had intended.

“Possibly,” Kristian conceded. “But have you anything whatever to indicate that that is what happened? I thought he was arrested because of the letters?” He shook his head slightly. “And a woman in love does not show up a man’s mistakes to the world. Just the opposite. Every woman I ever met defended a man to the end if she loved him, even if perhaps she should not have. No, Mr. Monk, that is not a viable theory. Anyway, from your initial