more readily accepted."
"There was no need, if he was going to die anyway," she responded. "And to begin with we all thought he would."
"Why does the Queen hate her so much?" he probed. He could not imagine a passion so virulent it would overshadow even this crisis. He wondered whether it was the character of the Queen which nurtured it or something in Gisela which fired such a fierce emotion in Friedrich and the Queen - and seemingly in this extraordinary woman in front of him in her vivid, idiosyncratic room with its burnished shawl and unlit candles.
"I don't know." There was a slight lift of surprise in her voice, and her eyes seemed to stare far away to some vision of the mind. "I have often wondered, but I have never heard."
"Have you any idea of the poison you believe Gisela used?"
"No. He died quite suddenly. He became giddy and cold, then went into a coma, so Gisela said. The servants who were in and out said the same. And, of course, the doctor."
'That could be dozens of things," he said grimly. "It could perfectly well be bleeding to death from internal injuries."
"Naturally!" Zorah replied with some asperity. "What would you expect? Something that looked like poison? Gisela is selfish, greedy, vain and cruel, but she is not a fool." Her face was filled with deep anger and a terrible sense of loss, as if something precious had slipped away through her fingers, even as she watched it and strove desperately to cling on. Her features, which had seemed so beautiful to him when he first came in, were now too strong, her eyes too clever, her mouth pinched hard with pain.
He rose to his feet.
"Thank you for your frank answers, Countess Rostova. I will go back to Mr. Rathbone and consider the next steps to be taken."
It was only after taking his leave, when he was outside in the sun, that he remembered he had omitted Rathbone's new title.
"I can't imagine why you took the case!" he said abruptly to Rathbone when he reported to him in his office an hour later. The clerks had all gone home, and the dying light was golden in the windows. Outside in the street the traffic was teeming, carriage wheels missing each other by inches, drivers impatient, horses hot and tired and the air sharp with droppings.
Rathbone was already on edge, aware of his own mis-judgment.
"Is that your way of saying you feel it is beyond your ability to investigate?" he said coldly.
"If I had meant that, I would have said it," Monk replied, sitting down unasked. "When did you ever know me to be indirect?"
"You mean tactful?" Rathbone's eyebrows shot up. "Never. I apologize. It was an unnecessary question. Will you investigate her claim?"
That was more bluntly put than Monk had expected. It caught him a little off guard.
"How? Unless, of course, you have formed some opinion that the original fall was contrived?"
Monk went on, "Even she is quite certain it was exactly what it seemed. She thinks Gisela poisoned him, although she doesn't know how, or with what, and has only a very general idea why."
Rathbone smiled, showing his teeth only slightly. "She has you rattled, Monk, or you would not be misquoting her so badly. She knows very precisely why. Because there was a strong possibility Friedrich might return home without her, divorcing her for his country's sake. She would cease to be one of the world's most glamorous lovers, titled, rich and envied, and would instead become an abandoned ex-wife, dependent, her erstwhile friends pitying her. It doesn't take a great leap of the imagination to understand her emotions faced with those alternatives."
"You think she killed him?" Monk was surprised, not that Rathbone should believe it, that was easy enough, but that he should be prepared to defend that belief in court. At the very kindest, it was foolish; at the unkindest, he had taken leave of his wits.
"I think it is highly probable that someone did," Rathbone corrected coldly, leaning back in his chair, his face hard. "I would like you to go to Lord and Lady Wellborough's country home, where you will be introduced by Baron Stephan von Emden, a friend of the Countess who will know who you are." He pursed his lips. "You will be able to learn all that is now possible of the events after the accident. You will have to make the opportunity to question the servants and observe the