Execution Dock Page 0,35

proof of identity."

"It is a beginning," Monk contradicted him. "An undernourished child who has been tortured, and has begun to change from a boy into a man, and no one has complained of his disappearance? That narrows down the places to look very much indeed, thank God. Durban made several drawings of what the boy probably looked like. He was good at it. He showed them up and down the riverbank, particularly to people who might have seen a beggar, a petty thief, or a mudlark."

"He assumed he was one of such a group?"

"I don't know, but it was the obvious place to begin, and as it turned out, the right place."

"Ah, yes," Rathbone nodded. "Somebody recognized one of these drawings that Durban did from what was left of the boy. You mentioned hair, skin coloring to some extent, shape of skull, and so on. Correct me if I am mistaken, Mr. Monk, but could not such bare characteristics produce at least a thousand different sets of features?"

Monk kept his temper, knowing that Rathbone was trying to bait him. "Of course. But desperate as the state of many children is, there are not a thousand boys of that age missing at one time along the bank of the river, and unreported."

"So you fitted this tragic corpse to the face of one boy that a mudlark said was missing, and you identified the body as that of Walter Figgis?" Rathbone's eyes were wide, a very slight smile on his lips.

Monk swallowed his sarcasm. He knew he was playing to an audience who was watching the shadows on his face, hearing the slightest inflection of his voice. "No, Sir Oliver, Commander Durban thought it very likely that the corpse was that of Figgis. When we found obscene photographs of Figgis, taken when he was alive, they were identified by those who knew him, and Commander Durban then matched them to the corpse. He had unusual ears, and one of them had not been destroyed by the water, and the creatures in it who feed on the dead."

Rathbone was forced to accept it.

Tremayne smiled, his body relaxing a little in relief.

Sullivan sat forward a little at his high bench, turning first to Rathbone, then to Tremayne, then back again.

Rathbone moved on. "Did you see these-obscene-photo graphs?"

"Yes. They were in Durban 's papers." Monk could not prevent the violence of his disgust from showing. He tried to; he knew he should keep control. This was evidence. Only facts should matter, but still his body was shaking, and he felt sweat break out on his skin. "The faces were perfectly clear, even three of the burns. We found two of them on the same places."

"And the third?" Rathbone asked very gently.

"That part of him had been eaten away." Monk's voice trembled, thick with the horror and misery of Durban 's words on the page in jagged writing, creating a picture of disintegration and loss.

"The vision of tragedy, of bestiality, that you call up, is almost beyond bearing," Rathbone acknowledged. "I do not wonder that you find it hard to speak of, or that Mr. Durban put in endless hours of his own time, and indeed also his own money, to bring to justice whoever did this. Would it be true to say that you felt just as deeply as he did?" He shrugged very slightly. "Or perhaps you did not?"

There was only one answer possible. Rathbone had chosen his words with an artist's precision. Every eye in the court was on Monk.

"Of course I felt as deeply," he said.

"Commander Durban had given his life to save others," Rathbone went on with some reverence. "And he had recommended you to take over his position. That is perhaps the highest mark of trust one man can offer another. Would it be true to say that you owe him a debt of both honor and gratitude?"

Again, there was only one possible reply.

"Yes, I do."

There was a sigh and a rustle of agreement around the room.

"And you will do everything you can to honor it, and bring pride to the men of the River Police who are now in your command, and earn their loyalty, as Durban did?" Rathbone asked, although it was barely a question. The answer spoke for itself.

"Of course."

"Especially completing this task of Durban 's, in the way he would have wished. Perhaps you would even give him the credit for its solution?"

"Yes," Monk said without hesitation.

Rathbone was satisfied. He thanked Monk and returned to his