William Monk 06 - Cain His Brother Read Online Free PDF Page B

it was feigned.
    “I deeply regret having to admit, Mr. Monk, that that is so. I have no reason to believe there is any other cause which takes Angus to the slums of the dockside. I have long begged him to desist, and leave Caleb to his own devices. It is quite futile to hope to change him. He hates Angus for his success, but he has no wish to be like him, only to have the profits of his labor. Angus’s affection and loyalty towards him is in no way returned.” He drew in his breath and let it out in a slow sigh. “But there is something in Angus which will not let go.”
    It was a painful subject. It must be especially bitter for a man who had watched the two brothers since childhood, but he did not equivocate or make excuses, and Monk admired him for that. It must have taken an iron self-disciplinenot to indulge in anger or a sense of injustice now.
    “Do you believe Mrs. Stonefield is right, and Caleb could have killed Angus, either intentionally or by accident in a struggle?”
    Ravensbrook met his eyes with a long, level stare.
    “Yes,” he said quietly. “I am afraid I believe it is possible.” His lips tightened. “Of course, I should prefer to think it is an accident, but murder is also believable. I am sorry, Mr. Monk. It is a bitter case we have given you, and one which may take you into some personal danger. You will not catch Caleb easily.” There was a harsh twist of his mouth, less than a smile. “Nor will you easily prove what has happened. Whatever help I can be, you have but to call upon me.”
    Monk was about to thank him when there was a light rap on the door.
    “Come!” Ravensbrook said with surprise.
    The door opened and a woman of extraordinary presence entered. She was of little more than average height, though her bearing made her seem taller. But it was her face which commanded Monk’s attention. She had high, wide cheekbones, a short, jutting aquiline nose and a wide, beautifully shaped mouth. She was not traditionally lovely, yet the longer he looked at her, the more she pleased him, because of the balance and honesty in her. She was every bit as candid as Genevieve, and more commanding. It was the face of a woman born to power.
    Ravensbrook lifted his hand very slightly.
    “My dear, this is Mr. Monk, whom Genevieve has engaged to help us find out—what has happened to poor Angus.” From the way he touched her and his expression as he regarded her, it was unnecessary to announce her identity.
    “How do you do, Lady Ravensbrook.” Monk bowed very slightly. It was not something he normally did, but it came to him without thought when he spoke to her.
    “I am very glad.” She regarded Monk with interest. “It is time something was done. I should like to think otherwise, but I know Caleb may be at the root of it. I am sorry, Mr. Monk, we have asked of you a most unpleasant task. Caleb is a violent man, and will not welcome any attention from the police, or any other authority. And as you may already be aware, there is also a serious outbreak of typhoid fever in the south area of Limehouse at the moment. We are most grateful that you should have accepted the case.”
    She turned to her husband. “Milo, I think we should offer to meet Mr. Monk’s expenses, rather than allow Genevieve to do it. She is hardly in a position … The estate will be frozen, she will have only whatever funds—”
    “Of course.” He stopped her with a gesture. To speak of such things was indelicate in front of a hired person. He returned his attention to Monk. “Naturally we shall do so. If you submit whatever accounts you give, we shall see that they are met. Is there anything else we can do?”
    “Do you have a likeness of Mr. Stonefield?”
    Lady Ravensbrook frowned, thinking on the subject.
    “No,” Ravensbrook replied immediately. “Unfortunately not. Childhood likenesses would be of little use, and we have not seen Caleb in fifteen years or more. Angus did not care to have pictures made of