her.
He went on to take apart all the evidence she had gathered through the witnesses learned of in her dealings with Portpool Lane. For every one of them he could show that they had benefited from her care. He worded it so it seemed that their indebtedness would cause them to say whatever she wished them to, not in deliberate deceit but in the desire to please a woman whose help they depended upon. In spite of the praise he had given her, she still appeared worthy but driven more by feelings than by reason, passionately tireless for justice towards those she saw as needy, and furious for vengeance against those who preyed upon them. She was feminine; he had harped on about her womanliness. She was vulnerable; he had subtly reminded them that she was childless. And she had poor judgment; he gave no example of that, but by then he was believed without it.
She stood helpless on the stand, surrounded by strangers who saw her through Rathbone's words, and she wondered if he actually saw her that way. Was this his true opinion, and all the past courtesy was only good manners towards a woman with whom he had once been in love, but had now grown beyond? His arrogance infuriated her.
Then she was touched by the first cold splash of fear that he could be right. Perhaps she was led by emotion rather than a fair and equal rationality. Perhaps Monk was led by his sense of debt to Durban, as Rathbone implied, and she simply went along with it in blind loyalty.
Rathbone sat down, knowing he had succeeded superbly. She looked at his face and had no idea what he felt, or if he felt anything at all. Perhaps his intellect would always dominate his heart. That was why she had not accepted his offer of marriage, turning it aside gently, as if it had not really been made, in order not to hurt him.
Poor Margaret.
Tremayne stood up and attempted to redress the balance, but it was impossible, and he realized it quickly enough to do little damage before he sat down again.
Hester remained in the courtroom afterwards as Rathbone called other witnesses who cast doubt on Durban 's honesty. It was done so subtly that at first she did not realize the impact of it. A revenue man testified as to Durban 's zeal in pursuing Phillips.
"Oh, yes, sir," he said, nodding his head vigorously. "'E was very keen. Like a terrier with a rat 'e were. Wouldn't let go fer love ner money."
"Wouldn't let go," Rathbone repeated. "For the sake of the jury Mr. Simmons, would you describe exactly the kind of thing you are referring to? The gentlemen may have had little to do with police procedure and be unfamiliar with what is usual, and what is not. I assume you are speaking of behavior that was out of the ordinary?"
Simmons nodded again. "Yes, sir. I see what yer mean. Folks might think as all policemen are like that, an' they in't. 'E were very different, Mr. Durban were. 'E'd ask one question, and if yer didn't give 'im the answer 'e wanted, 'e'd go round it a different way, an' then another again. I've seen some o' them bull terriers what didn't 'ave a grip like 'e 'ad. If I'd been less than 'onest, I'd 'ave told 'im what 'e wanted, just to get 'im off me back."
"Indeed. Did he tell you why he was so determined to find out who killed the boy Fig, Mr. Simmons?" Rathbone was very careful not to lead the witness, not to ask him for assumptions or evidence that was hearsay. Tremayne was unhappy with it, but there were no grounds for him to object. Hester could see it as clearly as watching a game of chess. Every move was plain, obvious the moment after it had been made, and yet impossible to forestall.
"No, sir, 'e din't," Simmons answered. "Couldn't say whether 'e 'ated Phillips 'cause 'e killed the boy, or cared about the boy 'cause it was Phillips 'oo killed 'im."
Rathbone responded quickly before Tremayne could object, or Sullivan sustain him.
"You mean his behavior gave you reason to think there was a personal dislike, above the matter of the crime? What behavior was that, Mr. Simmons?"
Tremayne half rose, then changed his mind and sank back again.
Sullivan looked at him inquiringly, a sharp interest in his face, as if he were watching a personal battle beneath