Motive had foiled him. Alexandra had a motive, even if it was a self-defeating and short-sighted one. She had not looked like a woman torn by a murderously jealous rage. But that might be because it had been satisfied by his death, and now she could see the folly, and the price of it.
Sabella had motive, but it was equally self-defeating, and she had not confessed. Indeed she seemed genuinely concerned for her mother. Could it be she had committed the crime, in a fit of madness, and did not even remember it? From her husband's anxiety, it seemed not impossible he thought so.
Maxim Furnival? Not out of jealousy over Louisa, unless the affair were a great deal deeper than anyone had so far discovered. Or was Louisa so in love with the general she would have caused a public scandal and left her husband for him? On the evidence so far that was absurd.
Louisa herself? Because the general had flirted with her and then rejected her? There was no evidence whatsoever to suggest he had rejected her at all. On the contrary, there was every indication he was still quite definitely interested - although to what degree it was impossible to say.
Means. They all had the means. All it required was a simple push when the general was standing at the turn of the stairs with his back to the banister, as he might if he had stopped to speak to someone. He would naturally face them. And the halberd was there for anyone to use. It did not require strength or skill. Any person of adult height could have used his or her body's weight to force that blade through a man's chest, although it might take an overtowering passion to sink it to the floor.
Opportunity. That was his only course left. If the events of the dinner party had been retold accurately (and to imagine them all lying was too remote and forced an idea to entertain), then there were four people who could have done it, the four he had already considered: Alexandra, Sabella, Louisa and Maxim.
Who else was in the house and not at the party? All the servants - and young Valentine Furnival. But Valentine was little more than a child, and by all accounts very fond of the general. That left the servants. He must make one last effort to account for their whereabouts that evening. If nothing else, it might establish beyond question whether Sabella Pole could have come downstairs and killed her father.
He took a hansom - after all, Rathbone was paying for it - and presented himself at the Furnivals' front door. Although he wanted to speak to the servants, he must obtain permission first.
Maxim, home early, was startled to see him, and even more to hear his request, but with a smile that conveyed both surprise and pity he granted it without argument. Apparently Louisa was out taking tea with someone or other, and Monk was glad of it. She was far more acute in her suspicion, and might well have hindered him.
He began with the butler, a very composed individual well into his late sixties, with a broad nose and a tight, satisfied mouth.
"Dinner was served at nine o'clock." He was uncertain whether to add the "sir" or not. Precisely who was this person making enquiries? His master had been unclear.
"Which staff were on duty?" Monk asked.
The butler's eyes opened wide to convey his surprise at such an ignorant question.
"The kitchen and dining room staff, sir." His voice implied "of course."
"How many?" Monk kept his patience with difficulty.
"Myself and the two footmen," the butler replied levelly. "The parlormaid and the downstairs maid who serves sometimes if we have company. In the kitchen there were the cook, two kitchen maids and a scullery maid - and the boot-boy. He carries things if he's needed and does the occasional errand."
"In all parts of the house?" Monk asked quickly.
"That is not usually required," the butler replied somberly.
"And on this occasion?"
"He was in disgrace, sent to the scullery."
"What time in the evening was that?" Monk persisted.
"Long before die general's death - about nine o'clock, I gather."
"That would be after the guests arrived," Monk observed.
"It would," the butler agreed grimly.
It was only idle curiosity which made him ask, "What happened?"
"Stupid boy was carrying a pile of clean linen upstairs for one of the maids, who was busy, and he bumped into the general coming out