him from earlier witnesses. Now they stared in sharp interest as the questions began.
"I did not call you earlier, Commander Monk," Rathbone began, "because you are familiar with only part of this case, and Mr. Orme was involved from the beginning, when Mr. Durban was first called to the discovery of the boy's body." He walked elegantly across the open space, as if he were very much at ease. Only someone who knew him as well as Monk did would see that his shoulders were stiff, and he did not carry his hands quite naturally. "However," he continued, turning to face the witness stand, "certain facts have come to our attention that suggest unusual elements with which you could help us." He waited, for dramatic effect, not because there was any question in his words.
Tremayne shifted in his seat as though he could not find a comfortable position.
"This case had been dropped, Mr. Monk." Rathbone's voice was suddenly challenging. "Why did you choose to reopen it?"
Monk had expected exactly this question. "Because I came across a record of it in Mr. Durban's papers, and the fact that it was still unsolved bothered me," he replied.
Rathbone's eyebrows rose. "Indeed? Then I assume you pursued all of Mr. Durban's other unsolved cases with equal zeal?"
"I would like to solve them all," Monk replied. "There were not many: a few minor thefts, one to do with the smuggling of half a dozen kegs of brandy; the fencing of stolen china and ornaments; a couple of incidents of public drunkenness that ended in fights; a few broken windows. The murder of children comes before all those." He too paused for effect, and smiled very slightly. "I'll attend to the rest, if I have time."
Rathbone's face changed slightly, acknowledging that he had an adversary not to be trifled with. "Of course that takes priority," he agreed, changing his angle of attack with barely a trace of awkwardness. "It seems from what we have heard that it comes before a great many things in your estimation. You appear to have read Mr. Durban's notes with great attention. Why is that?"
Monk had not foreseen the question phrased quite that way. "I have held Mr. Durban's position since shortly after his death. I thought I had a great deal to learn from his experience, and what he had written about."
"How modest of you," Rathbone observed. "So you admired Mr. Durban a great deal?"
There was only one possible answer. "I did."
"Why?" Rathbone asked innocently.
Monk had opened the way to such a question; now he had to answer it. He had no time to concoct a reply that was careful or measured to safeguard the case. "Because he held command without abuse of his authority," he said. "His men both liked and respected him. For the short time that I knew him, before he gave his life in the call of duty, I found him to have humor, kindness, and integrity." He nearly said something about hating injustice, and stopped himself just in time.
"A fine eulogy for a man who is not here to speak for himself," Rathbone said. "He certainly has a loyal friend in you, Mr. Monk."
"You say that as if loyalty to a friend were an offense," Monk retaliated, just a shade too quickly, betraying his anger.
Rathbone stopped, turned slowly towards Monk up in the witness stand, and smiled. "It is, Mr. Monk, when it places itself before loyalty to truth, and to the law. It is an understandable quality, perhaps even likable-except of course, to the man who is accused of a hideous crime so that one friend may pay a debt to another."
There was a rustle of sharpened interest around the room. One or two of the jurors looked anxious. Lord Justice Sullivan's face was carefully expressionless.
Tremayne rose to his feet, but with anger rather than confidence.
"Profound as Sir Oliver's philosophy may be, my lord, it does not appear to contain a question."
"You are quite correct," Sullivan agreed, but with reluctance. "Such observations more properly belong in your club, Sir Oliver. You called Mr. Monk to the stand; therefore, I assume you have something to ask him. Please proceed with it."
"My lord," Rathbone said, masking only the slightest irritation. He looked back up at Monk. "What was your own occupation when you first met Mr. Durban?"
"I was a private agent of inquiry," Monk answered. He could guess where Rathbone was leading, but he could not avoid going with him.
"Did that fit you for taking over