The Shifting Tide - Anne Perry [53]
Hester lost her own temper. “Stop it!” she shouted, exhaustion draining her voice until it was sharp and high-pitched. “Stop it this moment! This is a hospital, not a bawdy house!”
“Of course it’s a bawdy house!” Ruth snapped back. “It’s a house full of whores—and thieves!”
“I’m no thief!” Flo said furiously, her body shaking with emotion. “I never stole nothin’ in me life! An’ yer in’t got no right ter say I did!”
There was a slight noise in the doorway, and Hester swiveled around to see Mercy Louvain standing behind her.
Flo started forward to attack Ruth just as Mercy Louvain stepped past Hester to stand between the two women—only it was Ruth she was facing. Flo nearly fell over her, instead veering sideways and bumping into Hester, who gripped hold of her arms.
“Hold your tongue!” Mercy said in a hard, quiet voice. “You’re sick and in need. These women have taken you in to look after you. They owe you nothing. They have no need to sit up all night caring for you, and you’d best remember that. You can be put back out on the street to be alone, and there’s no reason except kindness why they shouldn’t do exactly that. So unless you want to exchange this bed for the street corner, you’d better mind your tongue.”
Ruth stared at her in disbelief. It seemed she could hardly comprehend what had happened.
“Do you hear me?” Mercy said sharply.
“Yes . . . of course I hear you,” Ruth replied. “I haven’t—”
“Good,” Mercy cut her off. “Then behave as if you do.” She turned away, apparently amazed, and now self-conscious, at her own words. She looked at Hester in some embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Perhaps . . .”
Hester smiled at her. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “That was most effective. Flo, you had better go and see to the rest of the women—and keep out of here.”
Flo glared at her. She took it as a reproach, a granting of Ruth’s wishes. “I in’t no thief!” she said hotly. “I in’t!”
“I know that,” Hester answered her. “Do you think you would be welcome here if I thought you were?” She could not afford to have Flo walk out.
Somewhat mollified, Flo stared once more at Ruth, then swept out, whisking her skirts behind her. Hester and Mercy set about changing the linen on Ruth’s bed and making her as comfortable as possible. She was still an extremely ill woman, and running a high temperature.
SIX
Monk was becoming accustomed to the dampness in the air and the smell of the tide, the movement and the constant sound of water. There was something vaguely comfortable about it, like the beating of a heart. The light was different from that in the streets; it was sharper, cleaner, full of angles and reflections. At dusk and dawn it shone back off the polished surfaces of the water in flashes of pink and primrose. It took far longer to fade than it did over the dense rooftops of the city.
Now he had something urgent to do. He knew enough to realize that seeking the thief directly would be pointless. He must anticipate his movements and be a step before him when he sold the ivory. If it was not already too late.
But failure was not something he could afford to think about; such thoughts would prove crippling, robbing him of the strength even to try. If the ivory had been taken by someone who knew of it and already had a buyer, then there had never been any chance of getting it back. On the other hand, if it had been a crime of opportunity then the ivory would be far harder to sell, and it was likely that it had not yet been moved more than to keep it safe.
And today Little Lil should send for him. What would she have to say? The thought was not entirely a pleasant one.
The first lift of hope came in the middle of the morning, when he was sharing a sheltered spot out of the damp wind off the outgoing tide with one of the men he had seen in the scuffle-hunting gang. He had just mentioned Louvain’s name.
The man jerked his head around, anger and fear in his face. “Yer workin’ fer ’im?” he snarled.
Monk was uncertain whether to admit or deny it. “Why?” he asked.
“In’t nothin’ ter do wi’ me,