a long time alone, but circumstances made that impossible; however, there was a certain alonencss in the crowd of a courtroom, and in centering his mind and all his feelings he could on the tragedy being played out in front of him.
Rathbone began very gently, with the softly cautious voice Monk knew he adopted when he was about to deliver a mortal blow and loathed doing it, but had weighed all the facts, and the decision was irrevocable.
"Mrs. Erskine, you were present at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Furnival on the night your brother was killed, and you have already told us of the order of events as you recall them."
"Yes," she said almost inaudibly.
"But I think you have omitted what most undoubtedly was for you the most devastating part of the evening, that is until Dr. Hargrave said that your brother had not died by accident, but been murdered."
Lovat-Smith leaned forward, frowning, but he did not interrupt.
"Several people have testified," Rathbone went on, "that when you came down the stairs from seeing young Valentine Furnival, you were in a state of distress bordering on hysteria. Would you please tell us what happened up there to cause this change in you?"
Damaris studiously avoided looking towards Felicia and Randolph, nor did she look at Alexandra, sitting pale-faced and rigid in the dock. She took one or two moments to steel herself, and Rathbone waited without prompting her.
"I recognized - Valentine ..." she said at last, her voice husky.
"Recognized him?" Rathbone repeated the word. "What a curious expression, Mrs. Erskine. Was there ever any doubt in your mind as to who he was? I accept that you did not see him often, indeed had not seen him for some years while he was away at boarding school, since you infrequently visited the house. But surely there was only one boy present?"
She swallowed convulsively and shot him a look of pleading so profound there was a murmur of anger around the room and Felicia jerked forward, then sat up again as Randolph's hand closed over her arm.
Almost imperceptibly Peverell nodded.
Damaris raised her chin.
"He is not the Furnivals' natural child: he is adopted. Before my marriage fourteen years ago, I had a child. Now that he is - is of nearly adult height - a young man, not a boy, he. . ." For a moment more she had to fight to keep control.
Opposite her in the gallery, Chaiies Hargrave leaned forward a little, his face tense, sandy brows drawn down. Beside him, Sarah Hargrave looked puzzled and a flicker of anxiety touched her face.
"He resembles his father," Damaris said huskily. "So much, I knew he was my son. You see, at the time the only person I could trust to help me was my brother, Thaddeus. He took me away from London, and he saw to the child's being adopted. Suddenly, when I saw Valentine, it all made sense. I knew what Thaddeus had done with my child."
"Were you angry with your brother, Mrs. Erskine? Did you resent it that he had given your son to the Furnivals to raise?"
"No! No - not at all. They had . . ."She shook her head, the tears running down her cheeks, and her voice cracking at last.
The judge leaned forward earnestly, his face full of concern.
Lovat-Smith rose, all the brilliant confidence drained away from him, only horror left.
"I hope my learned friend is not going to try to cloud the issue and cause this poor woman quite pointless distress?" He turned from Rathbone to Damaris. "The physical facts of the case place it beyond question that only Alexandra Carlyon had the opportunity to murder the general. Whatever Mrs. Erskine's motive, if indeed there were any, she did not commit the act." He turned around so that half his appeal was to the crowd. "Surely this exposure of a private grief is cruelly unnecessary?"
"I would not do it if it were," Rathbone said between his teeth, his eyes blazing. He swiveled around on his heel, presenting his back to Lovat-Smith. "Mrs. Erskine, you have just said you did not resent your brother's having given your son to the Furnivals. And yet when you came downstairs you were in a state of distress almost beyond your ability to control, and quite suddenly you exhibited a rage towards Maxim Furnival which was close to murderous in nature! You seem to be contradicting yourself!"
"I - I - saw ..." Damaris closed her eyes so tightly it screwed up