Dark Assassin - Anne Perry [39]
“Thank you,” Hester said warmly. “I will call on you the moment I have a clearer idea of what to do.” She turned to Applegate. “What information was Mary Havilland going to bring you? What do you need to know before you can act?”
“Proof that the safety rules are not being kept,” he replied. “And I am afraid that proof will be very hard to find. Engineers will say that they have surveyed the ground and the old rivers and streams as well as is possible. Men who work with the machines are accustomed to danger and know that a degree of it is part of life. Just as men who go to sea or down into the mines live with danger and loss, without complaining, so do navvies. They would consider it cowardly to refuse or to show self-pity, and would despise any man who did. More than that, they know they would lose their jobs, because for every man who says he will not, there are a dozen others to take his place.”
“And lose arms or legs, or be crushed to death?” Rose demanded.
“Surely…” She stopped, looking to Hester for support.
Hester remained silent. What Applegate said was true. There were tens of thousands like the Collards: proud, angry, stubborn, desperate.
She stood up. “Thank you, Mr. Applegate. I will do all I can to find the proof Mary Havilland was looking for. As soon as I have something I shall return.”
“Or if we can help,” Rose added. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Monk.”
“No!” Monk said firmly when she told him that evening. “I’ll pursue it until I find what happened to both Mary Havilland and her father.”
“There’s going to be a disaster if nothing is done, William,” she argued urgently. “Do you expect me to sit by and let that happen?” She made no reference to giving up Portpool Lane, but it hung unsaid between them.
They were standing in the kitchen, the dishes cleared away and the kettle pouring steam into the air as Hester prepared to make the tea.
“Hester, Mary Havilland may have been murdered to prevent her doing precisely that!” Monk said angrily. “For the love of heaven, isn’t that what you’ve just been telling me?”
“Of course I can see it!” she retorted as she yanked the kettle off the hob. “Are you going to stop your investigation?”
“Am I…? No, of course not! What’s that got to do with it?”
“It has everything to do with it!” she answered, raising her voice to match his. “You can risk your life every day, but if I want to do something I believe in, suddenly I’m not allowed to?”
“That is completely different. You are a woman. I know how to protect myself,” he said, as if it were a fact beyond dispute. “You don’t.”
She drew in a deep breath. “You pompous—” she began, then stopped, afraid she would say too much and let all her frustration and loss pour through. She would never be able to retract it because he would know it was true. She forced herself to smile at him instead. “Thank you for being afraid for me. It’s really very kind of you, but quite unnecessary. I shall be discreet.”
For a moment she thought he was going to lose his temper entirely. Instead he started to laugh, and then laughed harder and harder until he was gasping for breath.
“It is not all that funny!” she said waspishly.
“Yes, it is,” he replied, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“You’ve never been discreet a day in your life.” He took her by the shoulders, quite gently but with thorough strength that she could not escape.
“And you are not going to pursue Mary Havilland’s path