Slaves of Obsession - Anne Perry [110]
He followed her into the kitchen, pleasantly cool with the back windows open and full of the delicious aromas of expertly seasoned food. In other circumstances it would have been a perfect meal. It took all the skill he possessed, all the self-mastery, to pretend it was.
Hester was unaware of the turmoil within Monk. She believed it was no more than the frustration of a case he could not understand which made him shrink away, and she resolved to play her own part in the detecting as soon as possible.
By the time he left the following morning, still in search of more knowledge of Shearer, she had determined what to do. Dressed in her best morning gown of pale blue-gray muslin, she set out to visit Robert Casbolt. She had no doubt he would see her, because of the depth of his regard for Judith Alberton, and for Merrit. He could not fail to know how desperate the situation was, and regardless of his other commitments, he would make time to help.
She knew where he lived because he had mentioned it that first evening at dinner. She arrived shortly after nine o’clock in the morning and gave her card to the butler, with a respectful note written across the back saying simply that she felt it most urgent to speak with him at his earliest convenience, in Merrit Alberton’s interest.
She was kept waiting only fifteen minutes, then shown into a beautiful sitting room full of warm colors. The walls were paneled with mellow oak, and a red Persian rug covered the floor in front of the huge, stone-manteled fireplace, which at this time of the year was half hidden by a tapestry screen. The sofa and chairs were all odd, some covered in velvet, some in brocade and one in honey-colored leather, but the whole effect was one of the greatest comfort. There were two tall lamps, of different sizes, but both with brass columns and large hexagonal shades fringed in deep gold.
Casbolt himself was dressed casually, but obviously with care. His linen was immaculate, his soft indoor boots polished and shining.
“How good of you to come, Mrs. Monk,” he said earnestly. “After you have already done so much. Judith told me that your husband is still working almost night and day to find some way of proving Merrit’s innocence. What can I do to help? If I knew of anything at all, believe me, I would have done it.”
She had already planned carefully what she intended to say.
“I have been giving a great deal of thought to the matter for which Mrs. Alberton first engaged my husband’s services,” she said, accepting the seat he offered her but declining any refreshment. She did not need the excuse of a social amenity to keep his interest. No pretense was necessary between them.
He looked startled, almost as if he were not sure of her meaning. He sat down opposite her, on the edge of the chair rather than leaning back. There was no relaxing in him at all.
“Whoever was willing to resort to blackmail to obtain the guns may have taken it a step further, do you not think?” she explained.
His face cleared, then he frowned again. “Has Mr. Monk found some evidence which suggests Breeland is not guilty after all? Surely the fact that he has the guns precludes that possibility?”
“Of course he is involved,” she agreed. “And perhaps we are seeing something more than is there because we all so badly wish Merrit to be innocent. We are trying to think of any solution that excludes her.…”
“Of course!” he agreed. His face had a crumpled, hurt look, as if the optimism in his voice were at odds with his belief. Hester wondered if he knew a side to Merrit they did not, and it was that which now caused him to hesitate. Then he smiled. “I think Merrit may have been completely duped by Breeland. She is young, and in love. One does not always see clearly. And all the experience she has had is with honorable people.” He looked down